#casual yet extremely sexy

[sotc]

as fun as it is to talk about the sillay crow family dynamics, i'm soo interested in what this means for the crow familia going forward in a darker lens.

im mostly speaking from the perspective of a rook de riva who romanced lucanis btw <3

illario brought the axe down on his own head after failing to take first talon. he's imprisoned except to play house whenever caterina wants to see him around for family dinners before tensions inevitably shove him back into the cage he's been left to like some house pet lmfao. it's actually kinda fucked up and as a certified sicko i love it. especially considering the casualness in which lucanis describes all of this. crows gotta be a little unhinged<3

But!!! while lucanis was right that illario's reputation is ruined forever as a traitor crow beaten to his knees before every house that doesn't exactly free house dellamorte either. Talon houses will want their pound of flesh of illario for nearly trying to put antiva under venatori control. and yet lucanis refused. house dellamorte showed mercy. they are breaking the rules, making exceptions. this is not how the crows operate and there should--WILL be retaliations for it. illario left this house bleeding in his attempt to claim first talon and their blood is in the water now with house dellamorte having a sole heir who blatantly exposed a weakness and seemingly has no lineage to take after him.

and nevermind that we know murmurs amongst the crows will linger about a first talon being an abomination. i know lucanis kind of handwaves it off as at the coffee date like 'there could be worst first talons' but baby boy, you have avoidance and denial issues this WILL become worse of a problem the longer it goes on. <3

more under the cut bc i didn't realize this was getting so long lol

but in comes fifth talon viago de riva. a bastard to the king of antiva who wants to strengthen the crown. a man who has been ruthlessly exacting and meticulous to get where he is now. and the scariest part is that he has ambition, always has, and knows he has more power than the king himself to make plays if he needs to. this makes for a dangerous (and sexy) combination. in comes his protege rook. casting silly family dynamics aside, viago knows this union between house dellamorte and de riva is extremely beneficial for both houses but also very dangerous. even he knows his ties to teia show a weakness in him that other crows may seek to exploit. and while i do think he may be sincere about wanting rook to find their happiness with lucanis as he has with teia - i truly think he will not shy from showing the importance of a 'political alliance/union' especially with first talon house dellamorte struggling from the blow after all is said and done.

and of course, by extension to de riva, house cantori and the beautiful lovely miss teia, will be extending her support to strengthen their houses but also herself from any opposition. as much as i love that she's kind of the heart that brings this fucked up lil familia together, i know she is just as cunning and clever to recognize what this alliance does for her too.

and caterina.. well, without going into a whole thought piece on her, she has built her (and her grandson's reputation) entirely to instill fear in others, even command enough respect to know she's the one running things while lucanis is just a stand-in as first talon. but what happens when caterina is gone? another dellamorte dead just like all the others. all lucanis has left is himself and his traitor brother. how does he handle illario? how does he fair being a leader to the crows when he didn't want any of this in the first place and no longer has caterina to guide him? how does he wish to pursue carrying the dellamorte legacy (if at all)? does he seek a protege of his own to take on after him? i can't remember who says it (viago or lucanis) but there's a line about how saving thedas will make their houses immortal (hot and very sexy) but also how far can that reputation protect house dellamorte, really?

i don't really have a point to all of this, this is all just stuff im simply chewing on and letting out into the ether because the ripple effect of repercussions with what illario did and what lucanis now has to deal with fascinates me SO MUCH.

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 | Cillian Murphy

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Are y'all sick of my "ushy gushy" smut yet? LOL. Also ya'll fw this new layout? I fear it's kinda cute and slay...

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Cillian's wife and kids are out of town, and your parents are in Italy for the next month, leaving you home alone. What's the harm in getting close and spending some time with your slightly awkward, DILF neighbour?

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 3.3k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY smut, age gap (unspecified but reader is in college, Cillian is late 40's), cheating on both ends lol, Cillian is married with kids but reader dont give a fuck like ok baddie

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Cillian watched you in your window from his window, in his home, across from yours. Curiosity gets the best of everyone; sometimes you just wonder what your neighbours get up to. 

That’s what Cillian was doing — he was just curious about what the young, beautiful, sweet college student next door was up to. His house faced yours, which meant if you left your curtains open, he could see into your home…but in the year you’ve lived across from him, it’s not like he’d ever seen you do anything except the most mundane things. 

Flipping through the pages of your textbook and taking notes, calling your friends on the phone and giggling at something they said, posing adorably for some selfies in your kitchen to send to god knows who or post to god knows where. He didn’t understand it, but it was cute, reminding him of the years so far behind him now. 

It was innocent…until it wasn’t. 

You moved from your hometown with your parents to Dublin, Ireland a year ago, leaving your life behind and attending college here instead. Cillian talked quite a bit with your parents, hence the whole “neighbours” thing, but he always found you to be sweet…and his wife and kids seemed to think so too.

Last week, you’d mentioned to his wife that your parents were going to Italy for the next month to travel, and he couldn’t help but find himself wondering what you’d do when you were home alone. Probably studying, she seems pretty invested in school, he thought. 

It was almost time for his kids to go to sleep, and he could hear his wife talking to them as she got them ready for bed, but he stood in his living room and watched you through your bedroom window. You were giggling on the phone with who he assumed were your friends, and he sighed to himself as he saw your youthful smile. He was reminiscent of his younger years as he watched you.

He observed as you threw your phone down for a second on your bed, before getting up and— 

His jaw went slack as he did a double take. You casually started to take your clothes off and tossed them onto the floor of your bedroom, but that’s not what caused him to lose his composure. 

His eyes widened and his heart rate accelerated as his blue eyes wandered all over your figure, watching you from the window and unable to look away as he took in the lacy, intricate and extremely sexy lingerie you were wearing under that baggy sweater you had on not even a minute ago. 

The see-through lace hugged your body beautifully, and the material allowed him to see your perky breasts through the sheerness of it. He almost choked when you bent over to grab your phone from your bed again, as the lingerie left pretty much nothing to the imagination. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled aloud to himself, feeling his cock starting to strain against his pants. This was wrong. Oh, it was so wrong — but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He watched with a clear hard-on now as you held your phone up, giggling to yourself as you started to pose and take pictures in the lingerie, presumably sending them to some very lucky guy. Who were you sending them to? Who was getting to see your body up close like that? Who—

“Honey?” His wife’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned around as she came into the kitchen. He leaned against the island in the middle of his kitchen to hide how hard he was. God bless this kitchen counter, he thought. “What are you looking at? I kept calling you upstairs.” 

“Right, erm,” he coughed, clearing his throat and turning around to your window to see you were no longer in your room. It was just an empty, dimly lit bedroom in his view now. “Nothing. Thought I saw a deer or somethin’ in the yard.” 

His wife hummed in acknowledgment, clearly unaware that he was just basically participating in some form of voyeurism with the girl next door who was young enough to be his daughter.

“Don’t forget to drop the dog off next door tomorrow at noon,” his wife reminded him, and Cillian’s breath hitched at the reminder.

Fuck. He forgot that his wife and kids were going to visit his wife’s side of the family for the week. He couldn’t go due to a conflict in his work schedule, but he was going to drive them there and pick them up the following week. He also forgot that his wife asked you to watch Scout, the dog, for the day while he drove them up there. 

“Cillian?” His wife asked as she looked at him with a raised brow. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” he said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll bring Scout over at noon tomorrow.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d just tossed on your most cozy oversized sweater and some short-shorts as you headed downstairs, hearing knocking at your front door. As you swung the front door open, you saw Cillian standing there with Scout, who started to wag his tail happily. 

“Hey,” you smiled at him before you started petting Scout. “And hello to you too, Scout!” 

As you took the leash from Cillian, he looked flustered as he swallowed, giving you a small smile. “Thank you again for watching him.” 

“Oh, it’s really no issue!” You assured him with a friendly smile. “I’m home all day studying anyways, and my parents are out of town for the next month. I could use the company — plus, me and Scout are best buds anyways.”

Scout barked happily, and you continued to give him a few more pats. Cillian couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to last night; the image of you in your sexy, lace lingerie was still fresh in his mind. He cleared his throat, “Well, I’ll come and swing by around 6 to pick him up. Not too late, is it?”

“Gosh, not at all,” you giggled, letting Scout roam through your home as you started to close the door slightly. “I’ll be up late studying so…” 

“Thanks again,” Cillian said, waving goodbye to you as you shut the door softly.

Later on that day, once Cillian returned home after dropping his wife and kids off at his mother-in-law's house, he knocked on your front door once more to pick Scout up. 

You opened the door and smiled sweetly as soon as you saw him, “Hi, Cillian! How was the drive?” Your voice gave him butterflies, and he knew it was wrong, but after seeing you and what you got up to after dark, he couldn’t help it. 

“Ah, it was good — boring,” he joked, his smooth, Irish accent making you blush a bit as you handed him Scout’s leash, to which he handed you something as well. 

He handed you an iced coffee with a warm smile, “Here — just a little thank you for watching Scout. I remember you saying iced coffee was your favourite a while back, plus you mentioned you’d be studying all night…” 

“You didn’t have to do that!” You said sweetly, returning his warm smile, and taking the coffee from him. “But thank you, I could definitely use the caffeine.” 

You waved him off as he left with Scout and closed the front door behind you. As you got back to your kitchen, you felt yourself getting giddy for some reason after your interaction with him, though you tried to push it aside. He was just your much older, super attractive, neighbour — oh, and he was married with kids. 

You shook the thoughts out of your head as you placed the coffee down on your kitchen counter, suddenly noticing some scribbled letters on the side of the clear, plastic coffee cup. When you spun it around, you saw a handwritten message on it, and your heart stopped for a split second. 

Thank you, pretty girl :) 

You blinked a few times as you stared at it. Your eyes lingered on the handwriting, momentarily caught off guard. Was he just being friendly or was there an ulterior motive behind it? 

The following day, you returned home from your classes, and as you got out of your car, you noticed Cillian coincidentally unlocking the front door to his house with some grocery bags in hand. He glanced up as he pushed open his front door and saw you, a friendly smile crossed his expression. 

“Following me home?” He teased, and you giggled whilst you shook your head, textbooks in hand. 

“I mean, if I was following you, I’d definitely be trying to sneak a peek at what you’re cooking for dinner.”

Seizing the moment, he decided to just be bold with it. “Yeah? Why don’t you come over then?” 

“…What, like right now?” 

“You can tell me all about your classes while I cook dinner,” he replied innocently as you walked over to his front door. His words made you feel awfully juvenile…and excruciatingly hot and bothered. 

As you got comfortable in his kitchen, he unpacked the groceries and you sat on a barstool against his counter, watching the way his t-shirt was ever so slightly too tight against his arms and chest, showing his muscles off. 

“Make yourself comfortable. How does pasta sound?” 

“My favourite,” you giggled. “...So, do you always invite your neighbours over to help with dinner or am I just special?” 

Cillian glanced over his shoulder as he prepped the ingredients. “You’re definitely special. I’m not usually this straightforward, but something about you…” He trailed off and the unspoken tension lingered in the air. 

“Speaking of being ‘straightforward’ — I have to ask about that coffee from yesterday.” 

“Oh? What about it?” He feigned innocence. 

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the cute note on the cup. ‘Thank you, pretty girl’? It definitely caught my attention...” 

“I’m glad it did,” he chuckled before pausing for a moment. “…I meant it, though. You’re very pretty.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, and he turned back to look at you again, his blue eyes making your breath hitch. “I– well, thanks,” you laughed thinly with a blush. “Sorry–I just didn’t expect you to think…I just…” 

His gaze continued to linger on you as his expression softened. “I hardly think you find this surprising considering you must get guys chasing after you all the time,” he said as he took a step closer to you. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve…noticed you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you sensed some weight behind his words. “Oh? Noticed me how?” 

Cillian hesitated for a beat before he decided to push the boundaries, seeing how far this could go. How far you would allow him to take it. “I saw you the other night, through your window. Taking those pictures…”

You went wide-eyed as you let his words sink in. “You were watching me through my window?!” Your voice came out in a shocked whisper, and he bit his lip shamelessly.

“I didn’t mean to at first–” he choked out in an attempt to defend his behaviour. “But once I saw you I couldn’t look away…”

You paused, and the silence hung heavy in the air before you spoke up.

“Well, if you’re that curious, I could always show you the pictures. Or…” You swallowed as you looked at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I could just show what’s underneath my clothes right now...”

His eyes went wide and he got closer to you, hesitantly reaching his arm around your waist as he pulled you into him. His eyes darkened, breath catching on your words. He hesitated, clearly torn morally. “You know I’m married…” he whispered, but it seemed like he was attempting to remind himself that rather than telling you.

“Right…and I was sending those pictures to my boyfriend,” you casually replied. 

Cillian’s eyes flashed with something dark, a mixture of surprise and unspoken jealousy. His resolve broke completely, unable to hold back anymore. There was no point in pretending to resist now, and he let out a sigh as he cupped your face.

“So, we’re both breaking a few rules then?”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you looked up at him far too innocently for what was happening right now. “You know what they say about rules,” you whispered. “They’re meant to be broken.” 

Cillian suddenly closed the gap between you two, kissing you with a hunger that felt insatiable. His hands came to pull you right up against him, and you gasped into the kiss when you could feel how hard he was already. He’d barely even touched you. 

You kissed him back with a hunger that surprised you both, and your hands came to clutch onto his shirt. He backed you into the countertop, which started to dig into your back, but that was the last thing on your mind — him fucking you being the first. You continued to kiss each other feverishly until neither of you could stand the build-up anymore. 

Between sloppy, dirty, messy kisses and wandering hands all over one another’s bodies, he started to undress you right in the middle of his kitchen. You only hoped your other neighbours weren’t as “curious” as he was and god forbid they looked through his kitchen windows as he ran his warm hands all over you at this very moment.

“Shit,” he choked out when your clothes hit the floor, revealing some rather racy lingerie underneath. “Are you tryna’ kill me?” 

“Am I getting you all worked up?” You teased, as you ran your hands against his chest. “You know I’m young enough to be your daughter, right?” 

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you cupped his cock through his jeans. “That shouldn’t turn me on but, fuck, you keep talkin’ like that and I’m not gonna last…”

“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “Do me a favour — try not to give yourself a heart attack when you put it in, okay old man?” 

“Shut up,” he scoffed a laugh before kissing you passionately again. His hands snaked behind you, unclasping your sheer, lacy bra before it fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your matching panties. In retaliation, you got him out of his shirt before he turned you around and pressed you against the cold marble of his kitchen counter.  

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled as he gave your ass a light slap, causing you to moan. He slowly pulled your panties down from behind you, letting out a groan as he took in the sight of your drooling cunt, all soaked and ready for him to fuck.

He hoisted one of your legs up onto the kitchen counter and placed one of his hands on your hips. You heard his belt being unbuckled and his jeans being unzipped as he pulled his throbbing cock out, the tip flushed and leaking. He inhaled sharply as he pumped his cock a few times with his hand, before running his fingers through your dripping folds. 

“Look at that,” he cooed by your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “All soaked and ready for this cock, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you sighed, feeling him poke your entrance with the tip of his cock. “Need you inside of me, please.”

“Yeah, I bet, baby,” he said softly before pushing himself into you fully with one swift, long thrust. You let out a strangled noise at how he stretched the walls of your cunt and he moaned as his hands found purchase on your hips. Cillian wasted no time as he started to rock his hips back and forth, his thick cock going in and out of your wet, warm hole with ease.

He watched in awe as he looked down at his cock disappearing into your pussy, all warm, tight, and wet for him. “You’re so– fuck, baby. God, you’re so much tighter than my wife.”

“Oh my god,” you whined, his words only making you wetter as you heard your pussy making those squelching sounds. “A-am I?”

“Fuck, yeah you are,” he agreed, ramming into you faster now. You let out choked moans as you felt him pound his thick cock into your cunt, the tip of him reaching the deepest places inside of you. “Takin’ my cock like a good little girl, aren’t ya honey?”

“M–hmmm,” you mindlessly babbled, cock-drunk on his thickness. “Your good little girl…” 

“That’s right,” he purred, slamming himself as hard as he possibly could into you. “You’re my fuckin’ girl.” 

“Yeah…” You sighed, your body going slack as you tightened up around him. You hadn’t realized how close you were, and his arms came to wrap around your chest, pulling you against him as he rammed himself up into you deeper. Your head went slack too as you let it fall back against his shoulders. 

“Gonna come?” He cooed softly as he noticed how fucked out you were starting to get. “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock for me?” 

“Mmm,” you groaned as you saw stars, creaming his thick cock as you shut your eyes and continued to let him pound you senseless through your orgasm. “I’m…I–”

“And what was that earlier about me being old?” He joked as you failed to formulate a proper sentence, feeling himself about to come with you as he watched your mind go blank from his cock in your dripping, slick cunt. “Yeah, fuck — tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” 

Cillian felt himself pour his warm cum into your worn-out cunt, and he rested his head on your shoulder as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts from behind, still holding onto you tightly. The two of you were silent as you caught your breath in his kitchen, your body continuously being pressed up against his as he stayed buried deep inside of your hole. 

After a solid few minutes, he finally pulled out gently, making you whine. “Hang on, honey,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss behind your ear. “Let me get a cloth.” He grabbed a towel from a kitchen drawer as his cum ran down your leg and dripped out of your cunt, before wiping it up gently. 

As he cleaned you up, he turned you around and you got lost in his hypnotizing blue eyes again. He laughed under his breath, cupping your face with his hands. “You’re so pretty,” he breathed, taking in your youth, your beauty and…you. All of you. “Just…beautiful.”

You blushed, smiling up at him dopily with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. For a moment, the silence between you was comfortable, but there was an undeniable weight to it. His eyes said something…unspoken. 

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ll…I’ll figure something out,” he murmured, voice steady with emotion. “About my marriage. About us. About everything”

“Cillian,” you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “You don’t have to–”

He shook his head, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “I do because we’re already too close,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Too close to go back, too close to pretend this doesn’t matter.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at his words, your heart beating much faster now. He softly bumped his nose against yours as he left a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “We’ve already crossed the line, crossed every boundary,” he whispered. 

“But your family—” You started, the weight of reality pressing in. You could easily break things off with your boyfriend, but he had much more at stake than you did.

He cut you off gently, his gaze soft but unwavering. “I know what I’m risking, but I can’t pretend this doesn’t matter. You matter to me,” he paused in thought before he pulled you in again, tangling his hands in your tussled hair. “Like you said; rules are meant to be broken. If we’ve already broken every rule, then what else do we have to lose?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

@kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer

@abprill @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii 

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

@hfidnnf @strangeions @randomcreator-09

[hanniebaeee]

Code Love

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!!

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff

Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.

a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭

It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.

He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.

“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”

“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.

God, why was he like this?

That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?

“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.

“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”

Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”

You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.

Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.

Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.

---

“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.

Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.

Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”

“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”

“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.

“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”

“You’re hopeless.”

---

The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.

“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”

“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.

You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.

When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.

“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.

You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.

Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.

But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.

“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”

“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”

“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.

“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”

---

The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.

But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.

Great. Now you were cold and flustered.

“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.

“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.

He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.

“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.

“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”

“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”

You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?

“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”

“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”

Before he could answer, the door swung open.

“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”

You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.

Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”

“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.

“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.

“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”

“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”

It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.

Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.

You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.

“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”

Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.

You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.

You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.

“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.

You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.

You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.

Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.

He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.

---

You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”

He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”

“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.

“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.

He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.

Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.

You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.

You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.

So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.

---

The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.

“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”

You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.

“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.

What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.

Your Jinnie?

Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”

You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.

“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.

You shook your head, refusing to face him.

“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.

“Please don't say that, of course I care-”

“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”

You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.

And then you felt it.

Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”

“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”

“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”

“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”

Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.

He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.

“You... you love me?”

“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.

You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”

His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)

You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.

You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.

His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.

You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".

“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”

The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.

“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.

Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.

“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”

Well, you couldn't agree more.

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[changbunnies]

Revelation (18+)

♡ Pairing: Vampire Priest!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by midnight mass (tv), horror themes, vampire / human relationship, smut, possibly dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :')

♡ Word Count: 4k

♡ Summary: The suspiciously young and extremely handsome priest of your small-town church has a very big secret– and it's not until he's sinking his fangs into your neck that you discover what exactly that secret is.

♡ General Warnings: usage of typical vampire abilities (increased senses, strength, etc), descriptions of blood, religious themes (specifically catholicism focused), references to religious guilt + shame, reader does not trust jeongin at all (for good reason lol), very blatant manipulation, cult vibes? jeongin basically has the whole town under his thumb so. do with that what you will lol

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon, vampire venom that acts as an aphrodisiac, sexual acts inside a church (specifically in a confessional booth), some gendered language (dirty + good girl), dom/sub dynamics, dom!jeongin, biting + blood drinking, thigh riding, fingering (f rec), a lil bit of praise kink, corruption kink?

♡ Notes: this is possibly niche but well. the vampire priest concept lives rent free in my head thanks to midnight mass, and innie said he wanted to be a priest + he'd definitely be a sexy vampire so here we are lmao. and sorry i'm suddenly posting out of age order for my late kinktober fics but i ended up finishing this before the other members i still have left :')

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There's something that isn't right about your local church's head priest. Firstly, his age doesn't make sense; who on God's green earth becomes a priest in their 20s?

At least, you assume that's around how old Father Yang, who notably prefers to be called Jeongin, is– you've never been told, and you've never asked, but he certainly doesn't look any older than that.

Secondly, why are his sermons always at night? In all the towns you've ever lived in, in all the churches you've ever frequented, this is the first time you've ever experienced your standard, weekly Sunday service routinely happening at 9 p.m.

And thirdly, why is it that everyone who meets with him for confession comes back looking delirious and.. euphoric, almost? You don't get it– sure, confessing your sins is freeing; asking for and receiving God's forgiveness is among the best feelings that can be experienced if you're a devout believer, but still.

Something about all of it just doesn't sit right with you– and to make matters worse, you seem to be the only person in town suspicious of him. You're new to town, have only been here a handful of months, so you get it– you're the outsider, you don't know him like they do, et cetera, et cetera.

But how can not a single other person in town be bothered by how strange it all is? There has to be an explanation– you don't know what it is, and you don't know why you're the only one who seems to care, but there must be a reason.

It's Sunday again, and you spend the entire sermon watching Jeongin like a hawk, trying to catch any sign as to what it is about him that has all these people so enraptured. And while it's not necessarily wrong for him to be, another thing that strikes you is that he's easily the most casually dressed yet stylish priest you've ever met.

He wears the standard clergy vest and rabat, as he should, but over it is a leather jacket, and he wears denim blue jeans instead of dress pants. His shoes are sleek and polished, he has pretty, ornate rings decorating his fingers, has expertly styled slicked hair and silver earrings dangling from his pierced ears.

Again, it's not necessarily wrong, but it's definitely something you wouldn't think a priest's Sunday best would entail. And maybe that's only because the priests in your life have only ever been old, and didn't put much thought into style, but maybe that's what people like about him?

Maybe it makes him seem more down to earth and approachable; maybe it's easier to confess your sins when, outstanding devotion to God aside, he seems like as ordinary a person as any other. Of course, that's logically always the case, but some priests have an intimidating "holier-than-thou" attitude about them, and it certainly helps Jeongin's case that he seemingly makes an effort to not give off that vibe.

And admittedly, he's charming– there's something so uniquely handsome about the way he smiles while preaching God's word, how his eyes twinkle while he recites a scripture and relates it back to a point he made several minutes prior; you can't deny that it's enthralling.

But when he looks over the attendees lined in the pews, it always feels like he's looking straight through you, seeing to the depths of your soul and laying it bare. It gives you chills, honestly; makes you feel exposed in a way that's indescribable; like with a glance alone, he knows all your secrets, your every sin, down to their most minute details.

It's near midnight when his sermon ends; you stay seated in the backmost pew to the left, brows furrowed as everyone shakes his hand or hugs him, thanking him for another "terrific service." It's so bizarre– and it's not until the last of the congregation exits the small, wooden church that you begin to rise from your seat.

Though you're sure the church carries electricity and that the lights can be flicked on, the priest never does so– he always uses candles, casting a warm yellow glow on the dingy, white wood of the walls. It casts more shadows, gives the place an almost unsettling air– and when he turns to you, just as he's closing the Bible in his hand and setting it down, it sends a shiver through you.

"You're still here," Jeongin smiles at you from where he stands before the altar, centralized at the head of the church. It's a kind enough one, but you don't trust it; you can't shake the feeling that something lies beneath it– something abberant and dark that you can't place, but are certain is there.

"Do you wish to confess?" he asks, motions to the confessional booth with his hand as he tilts his head. "No," you answer, perhaps too quickly– and his smile grows ever so slightly, as if he's amused. At least, that's how you perceive his expression; and it makes you narrow your eyes at him, the distrust that radiates off you certainly palpable.

Your opinion of him is no secret, really; and he can tell you're scrutinizing him, trying to catch him in whatever act you think he's playing– it won't work, but it does humor him that you're trying. He doesn't know what sort of wild conclusions you've come to about him, but if you see anything, it'll be because he himself wanted you to see it– until then, you won't learn a single thing about who he truly is.

"Is there a reason you're still here then?" Jeongin questions next, and you swallow, hesitant to answer. Admittedly, you only stuck around in case someone did decide to go confess to him– you intended to eavesdrop, to try to listen in and find out what's really going on behind closed curtains.

It would've been massively immoral, but you would've confessed and asked for forgiveness later– privately, that is. You have no intention of seeking the Father's help in such matters, given how little trust you have towards him.

But still, despite the fact that you were willing to sneak around and listen to private conversations, you aren't entirely willing to lie in the house of God– so after some internal grappling with yourself on what you should and shouldn't do in this position, on what is right and wrong, you end up admitting the truth.

"I don't trust you," you tell Jeongin plainly, and you can swear you see him trying to suppress a smirk.

"I'm aware," he says, so matter of fact that it almost sends you reeling. And it's not that you were so disillusioned into thinking you weren't being obvious; you know very well that you weren't being the most covert in your suspicion of him– it's how unbothered and amused by it he seems to be that really gets you.

Shouldn't he be offended? Question your reasoning? Try immediately to dispel your doubts and clear up any misconceptions you may have? Instead, he seems more than ready to just accept it for what it is– even seems entertained by it.

"Does it not bother you that I don't trust you?" you ask, and he almost laughs as he shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for it to," he answers simply; and before you can ask why, or what he means, he's already answering– you suspect he could already tell you were going to press him on the matter.

"God teaches us to love one another. So even if you do not love me, or trust me, I love you, just as God instructs me to," Jeongin smiles as he speaks, and again, your brows furrow. It's a perfect answer, really– but it feels.. inorganic, almost rehearsed.

And the glimmer in his eye throws you off; it doesn't feel like the pure, honest delight you'd see on a priest putting God's word into practice. It feels mischievous, deceitful– like he doesn't believe an ounce of what he's saying, but he wants you to believe that he does.

"I know what you're thinking," he says, and you swallow, stiffening where you stand as he continues, "And if you really want to know what goes on during confession, want to see for yourself what it is I do to help the people who look to me, I can show you."

If you're being entirely honest, the offer is tempting; and strangely, it also makes you feel.. bad, almost– makes you second guess yourself. Because if he's freely offering like this, surely it can't be whatever you've been making it out to be in your head.

There's no way he'd out himself, and whatever it is he does, just to gain the trust of one person out of hundreds who doesn't believe his pure intentions. And maybe the other townsfolk really do trust him for good reason; maybe you've just been examining the situation and looking at Jeongin and the church in the wrong light.

Maybe you've been blowing everything out of proportion with obscene assumptions, and maybe he really is just a good priest. Maybe he makes you feel so seen, heard, and whole, that all your worldly problems melt away, feel trivial and light in comparison to God's plan for you.

Because after all, you are the outlier here. You're the only one in the whole town that doesn't trust him; and surely that means you're the one in the wrong. Jeongin does things differently than you're used to, but that doesn't mean he's inherently bad. And maybe you should confess– ask God to forgive you for not being receptive to the word of one of His servants.

Jeongin smiles when you concede and start to slowly step your way to the confessional. You pull back the curtain, step inside and prepare to sit in the small, wooden booth seat, but you quickly realize he's followed you inside. You gasp as you turn around, back pressing against the intricately carved hardwood window of the booth as he closes you in.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be on the other side?" you ask, much too meek for your liking. It's a cramped fit given that the booth is only meant to fit a single person on either side at a time; it makes you unconsciously hold your breath as you're effectively caged inside the booth with him– nowhere to go, and nothing you can do but stare at him, bewildered.

"No," he answers as quick and simple as before, his smile once again growing ever so slightly. And maybe you could push him, try to dart past him if you manage to successfully make him topple back, but you feel frozen– because even in the dark, barely lit confessional you're in, you're certain that you see his dull canines become long, pearly white fangs.

"Don't worry, it will only hurt for a second," he assures you as he brings his hands to your arms, gripping them just below your shoulder as he leans towards you. You shudder, his breath fanning your ear as he inches towards your neck, "but after that– it's bliss."

You feel the sharp points of his teeth poke at your skin, and it makes you gasp as your head tilts to the side, making room for him to sink his fangs into your flesh. Instinctively, your hands search for something to grab; you end up reaching for his shoulders, twisting your hands in his leather jacket to ground yourself as his sharp teeth pierce into your neck.

Your legs wobble, and he forces one of his own between your thighs, uses it to keep you upright as he drinks from you. And there is pain, but it really is only for a second, just like he said it’d be– within seconds it melts away, and oh, you instantly understand.

It’s much, much more than bliss– it’s ecstasy, it’s rhapsody, it’s the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Spreading from your neck to every last nerve ending in your body, every atom of your body becomes alight with euphoria as his bite sends tingles throughout you, raising goosebumps along your skin.

You cry out, an embarrassingly loud sound that you barely recognize as your own voice as one of your hands finds its way to his head. Your fingers thread into his hair, hold him to your neck as if you don't want him to ever separate from you– and to be fair, maybe you don't.

It feels so good, so exhilarating, intoxicating, that you almost don't want the sensation to ever end. Jeongin meanwhile lets out delighted hums, eventually slowly retracting his fangs to latch his lips around the sensitive, bruising skin, his tongue lapping away at the blood that pours from the two little marks left behind.

The beating of your heart quickens, breaths quickly growing labored as the inexplicable want continues to seep into your veins. Your thighs tremble as tension builds deep in your gut, and they try to press together to seek relief, but Jeongin's leg stays firmly nestled between yours, preventing it.

And were you not so utterly blissed out, maybe the incessant, desperate throbbing of your pussy would make you feel ashamed– but all you can think about is the deep seated desire overtaking every receptor, every tiny cell, every molecule within you, as if the very chemistry that makes up your being has been altered for Jeongin alone.

Unable to resist, you rut against his thigh, entirely shameless and feverish– because it's all you have access to, all you can do to relieve the growing ache between your legs. It’s sinful, your growing lust is– and the last place you should ever be doing this is inside of a church; but you’re too far gone to care, too gripped by the need for stimulation.

Jeongin lets go of your arms, reaches between your bodies to hike up your church gown, giving you easier access to his lean, muscular thigh. He’s gracious, tugs your soaked panties to the side so your clit can catch on the denim of his jeans– and the delicious friction makes you moan for him, loud and sweet. 

He pulls away from your neck to watch your desperate humping, eyes gleaming with mischievous satisfaction as he watches you pleasure yourself on his thigh. His eyes are perfectly adapted to seeing in the low light, and so he can easily see every little detail of you– from the mess your pussy leaves behind on his jeans, to the sweat beginning to drip down your temple, to the trembling of your bottom lip before you tuck it between your teeth. 

And when he smiles at you now, it’s like the fox that got the rabbit; even in the extremely dim candle light you can see the way your blood coats his lips, messily dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His dark eyes are gleaming– because he has you ensnared, and you both know there’s no going back. 

You untangle your fingers from his hair, and you watch as he reaches for your falling hand, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He holds your gaze as he kisses over the pulsing vein, and it makes your breath hitch, the blood on his mouth smearing over the surface of your skin, staining it crimson. 

“Should I bite you here too?” he asks, placing another kiss over your vein before he shoots you a grin full of fang, “you’re so delicious– I want to taste you even more.” You gasp and squirm as Jeongin presses the tips of his bared fangs against your skin– not quite biting just yet, but it’s enough to spread another wave of tingles over your body. 

“Yes, bite me, please!” you cry, voice almost frantic in its urgency– and you can see the corners of Jeongin’s lips twisting into a devious smile before he’s obliging, burying his fangs deep into your wrist within an instant. You wince, your fingers clenching as he squeezes your wrist in his hand, keeping it tightly pressed to his mouth. 

And just as before, within seconds the sharp sting dulls and ebbs into incomparable pleasure, goosebumps spreading over every inch of your heated skin. Faintly, you can see your blood dribble past his lips, slowly flowing down the length of your forearm before it drips to the floor of the booth. 

You can just barely see his tongue licking over his bite, doing his best to collect all the blood that spills from you, and it's mesmerizing– especially when he brings his fingers to your arm to swipe up what his tongue misses. Your stomach flutters as you watch him separate from your wrist and bring his bloodied fingers to his mouth; they're so long, so pretty and enticing– you want them.

Jeongin can see it in your eyes– how brazenly you stare at his fingers, how your eyes follow every move he makes with them. You're still panting, sweating, chest heaving from the exertion, but the rutting of your hips has faltered; and he grins as he gazes at you. You're once again left with the feeling that he sees through you– that all it takes is a glance for him to know everything you're thinking.

"You want them? Want me to stuff your cunt full with my fingers? Make you cum all over them?" he asks, entirely rhetorical; he already knows the answer. And he likes the way you writhe over the question, how you gasp over the sinful words he so freely spills in such a sacred place, your ears positively burning.

Even if your face didn't obviously show your desires, you don't think you'd be able to deny them; you've never wanted anything as badly as you want this, want him. It should make your gut twist with shame, because deep down you know this is wrong, know that you shouldn't want him to touch you as badly as you do– but the craving for Jeongin to bring you pleasure is almost primal, so deep and innate that your rational mind can't even hope to fight against it.

Slowly, almost playfully, he trails his fingertips over your thigh, and the anticipation is enough to make you unconsciously hold your breath. "You're so fucking messy," Jeongin says as he brushes his fingers over your soaking, sensitive clit, "so wet– you're a dirty girl, huh?"

You want to whine, want to shake your head and vehemently deny that you're dirty, attest to being a good, honest, and God fearing– but you're so overcome with your desire for him to touch you, that you don't. Instead you agree, concede that you are dirty, and messy, and that you want him more explicitly than you feel your own words could ever attest.

How easily you agree to being dirty seems to please him– and with a light chuckle, he slips his hand further down while carefully removing his leg from between your thighs. You wobble a bit when the support of his leg is gone, but he's quick to wrap an arm around you to hold you, effortlessly keeping you upright with the strength innate to who, or rather what, he is.

The cool, silver band that he wears on his pinky makes you jolt when it touches your feverishly hot thigh, and he chuckles again as he spreads your folds with his fingers. You're dripping for him, so slick with arousal that it hardly takes any effort at all for Jeongin's fingers to become coated with your juices.

You rock your hips against his hand, wordlessly begging him to give you what it is you crave most. "Oh look at you, so impatient, so desperate," he laughs as he presses the pads of his fingers to your hole, delighting in the way you look at him with glassy eyes and pinched brows.

It's obscene how badly you want him; you've never felt this needy, never been rendered so desperate for stimulation– and you're in a confessional of all places. This is the very last place on earth you should feel this way, or be doing something like this, and yet the shame you should feel is far from your mind– because all you can think about is your need for his beautiful fingers to fill you up and dull the throbbing ache between your legs.

Jeongin coos when you start to beg for his fingers, a rambling string of "please," and "want it, want you," and "need it so bad." You can tell how much satisfaction it gives him, and if your mind weren't so hazy from desire you'd certainly feel embarrassment build and twist from deep in your gut– but any such feelings are silenced by your body's need for his touch, by your craving for the sensations that only he can grant you.

It takes your breath away when he easily sinks two fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out slowly until he curls and bends them to find the spot that makes you see stars. "That's it, there you go," he grins when he finds it. He watches your eyes roll back, your hands clutching at his jacket as he continues to press the tips of his fingers into your most sensitive spot.

He returns to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin and nipping it with sharp teeth before he kisses and licks over the bruises he leaves behind. He applies pressure to your swollen clit with his thumb while relentlessly targeting your spot, an easy task for him thanks to the length of his fingers, and his hold on you tightens when the shaking in your legs grows more intense.

You're so, so close, and Jeongin can tell too– not just from how your pussy pulses and squeezes around his fingers, but because he can hear the loud, erratic thumping of your heart, as well as the rush of blood pulsing in your veins. "C'mon, let go– cum, you can do it, cum for me," he urges, speaking softly against the shell of your ear while swirling his thumb over your clit.

"There you go, good girl, just like that," he praises as you string out a loud succession of whimpers, your thighs closing tight around his hand as your high finally takes you. Your world feels like it’s spinning, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you ride out your high, your release gushing messily around his fingers.

His hand stays in place until your thighs untense, and he’s careful as he slips his fingers out of you, though you can’t help but shiver and whine from the sensitivity regardless. You're unsteady on your feet following your orgasm, but Jeongin makes sure you don't fall over; he keeps his grip on your firm, carefully helps you turn away from where you were pressed against the carved window to sit in the booth's only seat.

He wipes the sweat from your forehead after you sit, leans down to fix and smooth over the skirt of your church gown as you try your best to collect your breath and calm your racing heart. He's reverted back to his kindly priest persona it seems– you can tell by the warm smile he offers when you look at him, his sharp fangs fully retracted.

Still, bits of your blood remain smeared over his lips– clear evidence that he isn't the saintly man he portrays himself to be. You watch breathlessly as Jeongin licks the last of it from his lips before he pulls back the curtain of the confessional booth.

He offers you his hand after it seems like you've recovered enough to stand again; your own hand trembles as you accept it, and with his assistance, you rise carefully from your seat.

You're a bit dizzy when you stand, equal parts consequence of blood loss and the euphoria still lingering and tingling in your veins, but you're otherwise steady; and he smiles as he squeezes your hand in his, the other coming to rest on the small of your back as you take your first step out of the booth.

"Come back to confession again sometime," Jeongin says with his characteristically deceitful, charming smile, knowing full well that you will. Humans always find the sensation of his venom irresistible, always become addicted to it once they've felt it– and you'll be no different. "I'll be waiting for you."

[justlemmeadoreyou]

the hot-for-teacher fantasy (ta!harry x student!y/n)**

summary: when y/n discovers her charming, handsome college teaching assistant harry styles is also a porn star, it awakens intense lust and longing. one day, harry calls her for a private study session. she wonders what he'll teach her, oblivious that harry knows everything.

words: 4k+

warnings: flirting, fluff, smut. p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, kissing, dirty talk, creampie.

***

Y/N tried hard not to stare at her extremely good-looking teaching assistant during her Friday college lecture. But Harry Styles was just so hot, with his messy brown curls, bright green eyes, and perfect smile. His tight polo shirt clung to his muscular chest and shoulders. Y/N had to look away before she started imagining what he looked like without his shirt on.

"Girl, you're drooling again," her friend Liz teased in a whisper, nudging her.

Y/N blushed. "No, I'm not!"

Lately, she couldn't stop thinking dirty thoughts about the charming TA. His deep voice and confidence made it impossible for her to focus. There was something really familiar about Harry too, but she couldn't figure out what.

During the break, Harry passed back their graded essays. Y/N's breath caught when he got to her row.

"Nice work on this one," he rumbled, handing her the papers with a crooked grin and letting his fingers brush hers.

"T-thanks," she stammered, flustered by his touch and scent.

After class, Y/N rushed out, head spinning. Harry was just too much for her self-control sometimes. His flirty vibe and hints of his ripped body under his clothes made her imagination go wild.

Later that night, Y/N was scrolling online when she saw a weird tweet from her friend.

"'Who knew our former classmate had such an unexpected second career?'" she read out loud. "What does that mean?"

Curious, she clicked the link...and her jaw dropped. Short video clips played of a VERY naked Harry, putting on an X-rated show! He slowly stroked himself while staring intensely at the camera.

Y/N watched with wide eyes, feeling heated. So THAT'S why Harry seemed so familiar - he was a porn star!

For the next few weeks, Y/N tried to act normal around Harry in class while secretly reeling over his shocking second job. Every time he handed back papers or leaned across her desk, new fantasies popped into her mind of him in those porn videos.

Flashes of Harry's chiseled body and sexy pouts made Y/N shift in her seat, growing wet. She started touching herself at night while rewatching his videos, wishing his large hands were on her instead of himself.

"Hey, everything okay?" Harry asked after catching Y/N spacing out for the third time that lecture. "You seem...distracted."

Y/N snapped out of her daze, cheeks burning. 

"What? Y-yeah, I'm fine. Just a little out of it today."

Harry's brow furrowed, but he let it go and continued his notes. Y/N scolded herself - she needed to be more careful or he'd suspect something!

The semester continued torturously, with Y/N longing for the sweet yet filthy TA. She devoured every new porn clip, imagining his deep groans were because of her. Harry remained perfectly charming and professional, driving Y/N crazy.

***

One evening, he asked Y/N to stay after for help studying. Her heart pounded as they were finally alone together. Harry was dressed casually in a soft t-shirt that clung to his biceps and tight jeans that left little to the imagination.

"So, what did you need help with?" Y/N asked, trying not to stare at the bulge in his crotch.

"Actually..." Harry shut the classroom door and turned to face her with a smirk. "I know what you've been up to."

Y/N paled. "W-what do you mean?"

In one swift move, Harry crowded her against the wall, hands braced on either side of her head.

"I mean, I know you've seen my...other job," he breathed, leaning so close she could smell his sandalwood cologne.  "Judging by how distracted you've been, you must be a fan.I know what you've been up to," Harry said, his voice low. "In fact, I have proof."

Y/N felt her face flush. What could he possibly know? She racked her brain but came up empty.

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out Y/N's notebook from class. He flipped through the pages until he landed on one with "H ❤️" scribbled in the margins.

"This looks an awful lot like the little doodles I've seen pop up in the chat during my streams," he said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N's heart pounded. He knew about her watching his porn! She opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut her off by capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"Wanted to do this for ages," Harry growled between heated kisses down her neck. "Could feel you eye-fucking me every class."

"Harry..." she gasped as he palmed her breast. This had to be a dream!

Y/N instantly melted against him, whimpering into his mouth. They kissed hungrily, all the pent-up tension finally unleashing.  

"You taste so fucking sweet," he groaned against her racing pulse in that smoky, ruined timbre that immediately flooded her core with fresh arousal. "Been driving me mad, pretty girl. Had to have you."

She had spent countless nights alone getting herself off to the fantasy of Harry - the casual acquaintance turned porn star she had established an embarrassingly strong fixation on. In those frenzied moments of pleasure chasing, her imagination had run wild with what it might feel like to have his large hands on her, to experience his undivided intensity and passion in the flesh.

But nothing could've prepared her for the reality. For this soft, reverent side of him she never could've pictured behind that dirty-mouthed and cocky boldness of his videos. Harry was watching her with those mossy green eyes, hooded but shining, his warm gaze flickering over her flushed face like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Y/N traced her fingertips over the sharp jut of his cheekbones, down the carved column of his throat, savouring the tickle of his rough stubble. She wanted to bottle the rich, woodsy scent of his cologne and sweat, to keep this moment perfectly preserved somehow. This exact pocket in time when Harry was focused solely on her, that made her heart swell and thighs quiver.

When she nodded mutely in response to his question, Harry leaned in to capture her lips in a slow, searing kiss. One large palm cradled the back of her skull, tilting her head for the perfect angle to lick into her mouth with slow and soft sweeps of his tongue. The other hand splayed over her ribs, fingertips trailing up to graze the underside of her breast, each pass lighting tiny sparks across her sensitive skin.

A soft keen parted Y/N's lips when Harry finally palmed her fully, the rough pads of his fingers finding her peaked nipple. His mouth instantly set to work soothing her desperate whimpers with deeper, more heated sweeps of his tongue. He continued paying homage to her breasts with laving kisses until she was writhing and panting.

"So pretty," murmured that devastatingly deep rumble. "So fucking soft and perfect for me, love."

Harry punctuated the dark praise with a sharp nip to the upper swell of one breast, soothing away the faint sting with rich swirls of his talented tongue. Y/N's back arched involuntarily, a strangled moan shuddering from her chest as the flare of pleasure echoed all the way to her clenching core which was already throbbing with need.

She grabbed at Harry's broad shoulders, tugging to seek out more delicious friction. But he seemed determined to drag this out as long as possible - their position putting her at his command as he mapped every inch of her squirming form in unhurried exploration.

His talented mouth continued blazing an open-mouthed path down her sternum, across the quivering plane of her belly, all while his callused palms held her hips in a firm, grounding hold. When his lips finally met the juncture of her parted thighs, Y/N let out a garbled keen, head thrashing against the hard floor.

Harry shushed her gently, nuzzling against her damp curls as his huge hands anchored her bucking hips in place.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he rumbled, hot breath ghosting over her sensitized flesh and dragging a desperate whine from her chest. "Be a good girl and let me take care of my pretty girl, okay?"

Y/N's chest felt fit to burst from the tangled storm of arousal, tenderness, and pure longing that seemingly came out of nowhere at Harry's husked promise to "take care of her properly."

She couldn't find the brainpower to formulate any response beyond a punched-out mewl, utterly spellbound already by the wicked promise in Harry's voice. She lay pliant and trembling as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, fully exposing her to the hot sweep of his piercing stare and the first scorching lap of his tongue against her aching slit.

What followed was a hazy, blissed-out oblivion of sensation as Harry set to work devouring her with so much focus. Focus she had only seen on him when he was in deep, grading papers. There were no more teasing licks or tantalizing nibbles - he dove in with determination, sucking at her slick folds and swirling his tongue in swirls around her throbbing bundle of nerves until Y/N was writhing and sobbing out his name like a prayer.

Her fingers twisted in those sweat-soaked chestnut curls, tugging and desperate for an anchor as the exquisite wash of sensation threatened to unravel her completely. Every breathless whine and whimper was duly rewarded with another purposeful flick of Harry's talented tongue, coaxing her higher and higher.

He lapped at her clit, one digit opening her quivering entrance to his assault. He pushed them in, while she arched her back, giving him a deeper angle. Wet noises erupted from between her legs, his two fingers perfectly anchoring inside, swiping against her sweet spot that had her whimpering like a muse.

He fucked his fingers in and out of her, the thick nerves on his arms seeming to be erupting to life. The same hands that she had imagined about, were now inside her cunt, wet and warm with how wet she was.

His other hand joined the slick heat of his mouth, cupping and kneading her bucking hips with possessive surety, it finally pushed her over the blissful edge. Y/N's whole body convulsed as her climax detonated with blinding intensity, keening gasps punched from her chest again and again on each bottomless wave of pleasure.

Through the whiteout ecstasy, she felt her hips being released. Then, powerful arms were scooping her up against Harry's solid chest, enveloping her entirely as aftershock tremors kept rippling through her frame. Her cries were instantly muffled as he kissed her, her taste lingering in their mouths as she drank him in.

"That's my girl," Harry praised, his voice almost low and aching with want. "So fucking gorgeous falling apart on my tongue like that, sweetheart."

Y/N could only whimper helplessly in response and manoeuvred herself closer to his sweat-slicked torso, shuddering at the raspiness of his voice. Large palms stroked soothingly up and down her back as she slowly came back to earth and rejoined gravity.

One calloused thumb caught a stray tear she hadn't even realised fell, swiping it away with tenderness. The gentle gesture finally focused Y/N's senses enough to really look up at Harry - and what she saw stole the breath from her lungs all over again.

His green eyes were molten and hooded, swirling with naked want but also something more profound. Harry gazed down at her with such adoration and protectiveness that another sob rose in her tight throat, heart spasming almost painfully.

"You're so beautiful," he rasped out. One large palm cradled the back of her skull as his lips found her swollen and panting mouth in a deep, searching kiss. "So fucking strong and brilliant and incredible. I've wanted you for so damn long, Y/N. Please let me..."

Y/N couldn't formulate a coherent reply. So instead she silently nodded, her assent between kissing him back with every ounce of frenetic passion burning through her and took Harry's full weight as he rolled them until she was cradled in his lap.

Their kiss turned searing and desperate as Harry skillfully discarded their remaining clothes. Y/N's strangled whimpers and whines were swallowed by his bruising mouth, her slick heat dragging against the hardness of his erection in tortuously light strokes.

Y/N instinctively sought out more of that maddening friction - rocking her hips up to meet Harry's in a desperate grind as she tangled her legs around his trim waist. The low, reverent rumble of approval he let out at her shamelessness made her entire body bloom with heat.

"So eager for me, aren't you love?" he husked against the swollen bow of her parted lips. Not waiting for a response, he sealed his mouth over hers in a lush, filthy kiss that left them both panting for air.

He teased her exactly to that tantalising edge of overwhelming bliss and sheer frustration until she was squirming and mewling into their heated embrace, nails scrabbling at the broad expanse of his sweat-dampened shoulders. At last, Harry tore away from her lips with a ragged groan, panting heavily as they pressed their foreheads together.

She was too far gone to feel self-conscious. The last threads of her self-restraint had snapped the second Harry palmed both cheeks of her ass in those huge, calloused hands and used his grip to pull her flush against the insistent jut of his straining cock.

"Wanted this for so long," he growled against her swollen lips before venturing down to scathe his stubbled jaw along the ultra-sensitive slope of her neck, leaving a stinging trail of fresh goosebumps in his wake. "Laid awake so many nights thinking about having you in my lap just like this..."

Y/N had no capacity to formulate a reply beyond a choked-off moan, hips canting of their own accord to chase that scorching friction. She wanted to whimper out, to beg him to stop teasing them both with this exquisite torment. But he didn't give her a chance, lush mouth finding her peaked nipple and suckling hard, stealing what little coherence she had left.

"Ah! ...H-Harry, please..." she panted out as sparks of both pleasure and sweetest pain lanced through her. She fisted those decadent chestnut curls tighter until he finally released her with a final teasing graze of teeth over her swollen, rosy bud.

He peered up at her with hooded, molten eyes, his pupils blown wide and inky with naked want. His mouth glistened obscenely in the low light. The sight alone nearly cleaved what little rational thought remained.

"Since you asked so sweetly..." he husked, gifting her one more searingly deep kiss before making a trail of open-mouthed licks and nibbles down the center line of her body once more. "My gorgeous girl deserves whatever she desires.Now look at me, love," he ordered, "Need to see those gorgeous eyes when I finally get to be inside my girl."

My girl.

Y/N's whole body locked up with need at his command. Their gazes crashed together in the space separating them - Harry peering down at her, mouth hanging open in blissful agony.

Holding that heated stare, he finally guided the slick blunt head of his cock to her entrance with one broad palm on her hip. They both exhaled harsh breaths in unison as he sank past that initial tight clutch, Harry's brows creasing with reverence while Y/N's mouth fell open on a choked off moan.

"You feel so good, baby, taking my cock like this," he groaned against her neck. "Wanted this pretty pussy for months."

The crude words somehow only turned Y/N on more. She matched Harry's thrusts, overwhelmed by how amazing he felt.

"You feel that, love?" he rumbled in that rasping timbre that immediately stoked the banked embers of her core back to feverish heat. "How fucking desperate you still are for me, even after falling apart so gorgeously?"

Y/N let out a helpless, pitchy noise of agreement muffled feverishly against the solid weight of his shoulder – nodding frantically as he kept up that slick, sinfully light rutting rhythm. Her entire body felt suspended in limbo, torn between too-much and not-enough with each deliberate slide of his cock spreading her wanting folds apart.

"Christ, you should see yourself right now," Harry practically purred in a haze of lust-drunk awe, swiping the pad of his thumb in a teasing circle around her revived, aching bud. When she arched into the contact with a strangled whimper, he let out a rumbling chuckle that reverberated through both their shuddering frames. "An absolute picture...and all for me."

On his final seismic stroke, the thick crown of his erection caught against Y/N's swollen, aching entrance - teasing her to the brink of shattering all over again. She let out a garbled noise that might have been Harry's name or just an incoherent plea, fingernails scrabbling at his back.

"Look at me," he ordered in a low rasp, drawing her hooded gaze up from where their damp bodies joined. Green eyes glittered with undisguised possession when their stares finally met - searing straight through her.

Holding that smoldering eye contact, Harry pressed forward with one inch at a time until Y/N thought she might combust from the sweet stretch and burn. Every shallow exhale punched from her lungs came out a choked whimper, matched by the fevered grunts rumbling from Harry's chest as he bottomed out, again and again.

Y/N's world had narrowed entirely to the joined point of their bodies, her fluttering internal walls struggling to accommodate the exquisite impalement even as fresh arousal flooded her with boneless surrender. She could only cling helplessly to Harry's sweat-slicked shoulders and lose herself in the intoxicating visuals before her - his arm muscles bunching with the strain, those ruddy, plump lips hanging open on ragged gasps.

"Fuck...f-feel so good, baby," he gritted out, words fracturing apart as his hips gave a minute involuntary roll. "Taking me so bloody well..."

A strangled cry escaped Y/N as that tiniest motion lit up every nerve-ending with bliss. Her heels dug into the small of Harry's back in a frantic bid for leverage, for friction, for anything to alleviate this keen edge between agony and rapture. He seemed to read her desperation, dropping his sweat-slicked brow to hers as he found her lips in a sloppy, uncoordinated clash of teeth and questing tongues.

Then he was pulling back in one sinuous torso-roll, finally giving Y/N what she craved as his initial retreat turned into a soul-shaking thrust that punched the air from her lungs anew. Somewhere in the spiraling vortex of sensation, she registered the harsh slam of his hips meeting her own, the strangled cry of gratification Harry loosed against her slack mouth as he set a steadily mounting cadence.

Any hope of finesse or coordination was swiftly abandoned as their shared need mounted inexorably higher. Y/N could only cling on and ride out the tide of Harry's sharp, bouncing strokes - bordering on too much even as every shuddering nerve ending begged for more, more, more...

Before long, his forehead had dropped to brace against her shuddering sternum, the rigid line of his body trembling with restrained power and exertion as his hips jackhammered with unchecked fervor. The slick, fiery noises of their joining felt loud enough to haunt Y/N's every thought from now until the end of time.

She could feel the heated pant of his breaths gusting across her neglected nipples with each punishing grind of their movements coming brutally unhinged. Every snap of his hips shoved impossibly deeper until she was seeing stars behind her screwed-shut lids, a high-pitched whine escaping with each narrow thrust mounting her up the cliff's edge.

Heat and tension built upon itself in a dizzying spiral, a thousand tingling points of rapture spiraling from Y/N's core until her entire being felt engulfed in the storm. Harry's large hand found her sweat-dampened nape and tangled in her hair, drawing her into a searing, wild kiss that only stoked things higher.

The groan he leaked into her mouth was utterly guttural and wrecked as she matched his hectic rhythm – nails dragging down the broad expanse of his quivering shoulders until her next orgasm suddenly crested with blinding force.

This time, there was no oblivion or sweet black voids of unknowing as Y/N came apart. Instead, she remained tethered to the blazing intensity coursing through every fiber, Harry's name escaping on a cracked litany as her release seemed to go on and on in pulsing waves. He swallowed each choked syllable, hips drilling her through the roaring tide until she arched clean off the desktop entirely.

Harry's broken cry of her name might have been reverent, might have been full of desperate adulation as he finally let go – thick spurts of wet heat joining the mess between their bodies as his tempo turned erratic and punishing. Y/N could only hang on with what little quavering strength remained,  drifting in the bliss of euphoria.

Eventually, the high tides ebbed and they collapsed in a sweaty, ruined heap upon the desk's surface. Both of their chests heaved like they'd run a marathon, senses struggling to reboot as little aftershocks kept shuddering through their temporarily departed forms.

Incrementally, Y/N floated back into her body and surroundings – the achingly pleasant stretch and ticklish trickle of Harry's slowly softening length, the damp cling of their overheated skin, the stark scent of sweat and sex and desperation sated. She cracked heavy lids, momentarily stunned all over again at the debauched vision of the handsome man draped over and still sheathed inside her.

Harry's summer green gaze was already waiting, twin pools of blown pupils shining through a heavy-lidded swath of mussed chestnut curls. Enraptured affection and lust battled for prominence as he stared down at her, sucking in air like a drowned man breaching the surface. When she met his eyes, he opened his mouth only to release a choked exhalation – clearly as adrift in the tide of their passion as she was.

Y/N lifted one shaky hand to paw clumsily at the damp curls framing his face, caressing his flushed cheek in what she hoped came across as reassurance. Her other arm snaked around Harry's shoulders, anchoring him to her as he nuzzled into the gesture with a shuddering sigh.

This time when he found her mouth, the kiss was slow and deep and almost unbearably tender. Their heartbeats gradually realigned as they savored the languid exchange, prolonging the hazy afterglow for as long as possible.

Harry finally pulled back to mouth a reverent path along the curve of her jaw, words rasping low and ardent against the hammer of her pulse.

"You're so incredible, love," he murmured like a hallowed oath. Full of naked adoration and something deeper that made Y/N's newly reawakened heart clench and squeeze impossibly tighter. "Knew you would be...but god, you fucking ruined me just now."

His raspy chuckle carried an undercurrent of disbelief and familiar self-deprecation. Kiss-swollen lips trailed along the sloped curve of her neck and shoulder as he continued pouring out those hushed, awed confessions.

"Don't think I'll ever look at this bloody classroom the same way again...not after feeling you come apart around me so beautifully..."

After, they lay panting on the classroom floor, limbs tangled together. Y/N traced the bird tattoos on Harry's abdomen, unable to believe this had happened.

"If I had known this is what you wanted, I would've bent you over my desk ages ago," Harry laughed, still looking deliciously rumpled and debauched.

Whatever came next, whatever questions arose about the status of their relationship or the unorthodox circumstances that had brought them here, for now Y/N was content to simply bask in the warmth and connection she felt . Her wondering heart could wait until the morning.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[redfoxwritesstuff]

AN: I don't hate color. There's more than enough color here! I don't know why someone is spreading such hateful rumors!

Summary: You believed in treating yourself and what better time to treat yourself than the holiday season? Unfortunately, thanks to your packed schedule you didn't have a lot of time to do that. And when you do, you don't pay enough attention to which card you use to pay.

Vox is in for a rather exciting surprise in the company charge history

CW: Unconsentual voyogerism, sexy toys, anal plug

Seasons struggled to be much of a thing in hell, though they tried. It was often simply a case of hot versus hotter when it came to weather. Though there were extreme shifts that would linger for a few days to a few weeks, blanketing the city in thick layers of acidic snow. 

It was pretty enough when you were just looking at it from the window, sparkling in the dim red sun of hell. Each snowflake was perfectly shaped. It was so pretty when it fell, flakes dancing through the air. You would indulge in hours, sitting at your window with a book and a hot mug of tea, enjoying the snow falling. 

It was frankly terrible if you had to be out in it. The acidic snow slowly ate at the buildings, sidewalks, and roads. Anything caught up in it suffered from the acid slowly corroding through it. The longer it stuck around, the worse the damage to everything it touched was. 

You, like everyone else who could afford items made of acid resistant fabrics, were decked out in it as you scurried from building to building. No one wanted to be out in this stuff longer than they needed to be, even with the expensive resistant gear and that included you. If you were out in it long enough, the acid would still eat through the resistant fabrics. 

Your boss paid a lot of money to ensure the upper employees of VoxTek could have the ability to move about the city with class and dignity while the lowly sinners would run through the streets, screaming as the acid burned their feet and legs while they got where they were going. 

You didn’t need to be out right now, though, not really. The peace of a rare snowy day had you restless in a way your mug of tea or a good book couldn’t seem to battle. It brought an unusual peace that you were not used to dealing with. 

It was quite the trip across the city to make it to a store not owned by any of the Vees. At least, you were pretty sure this little sex store was outside of Valentino’s control. Stores outside of his control were few and far between, making it hard to ever really be sure. 

It lacked the purple and pink branding Valentino was so fond of. That had to be a good sign, right? It wasn’t like you could ask and expect an honest answer. Lies flowed like water in hell. 

Oh well.

Stepping inside, you took your time looking around after knocking the snow from your boots. The ground just inside the door was already showing the wear from melted acid snow eating into the tiles. It had only been on the ground for two days and yet by the time it was gone, the floors around the entry likely would need to be replaced.

Dildos, vibrators and plugs lined the back wall, all on proud display. The racks of clothing were stuffed full, making it difficult to flip through the options. Either they over ordered their inventory or the shop simply didn’t move product fast enough to keep up with the change in styles. 

It didn’t matter to you, even if Val owned this shop, it fell outside your scope of duties. You ran business reports on tech sales for Vox, not the sales of sex toys and porn for Valentino. 

Moaning filled the air as porn played on the large TV on the wall, advertising the movie choices similar to how your boss would advertise the movies and shows he produced on the large TVs in his electronic stores. It felt weirdly out of place and yet oh so fitting in the store. 

You were growing far too numb to casual pornography exposure. When was the last time you batted an eye when walking into a studio to deliver some message or file to Valentino on behalf of Vox?

You were so tired, worked to the bone as Vox prepared for the holiday season. It surprised you at first that Christmas was a thing in hell, but once you started working for Vox, it all made so much more sense. It was the same as it had been in life, a capitalistic mockery of what the holiday had once been. 

“I’ll just treat myself,” you whispered, being far too used to talking to yourself as you worked alone. 

You flipped through slinky outfits, bra and pantie sets as you waited for something to catch your eye. What you wanted was something bright and blue. Cyan, ideally, but you’d settle for teal. You were picky, but not too picky. 

You didn’t think you’d find anything. Your color preferences were so very bright for the citizens of hell. Finding so much to choose from made you giddy. Eagerly, you snagged a lacy robe and draped it over your arm. It was nearly totally lace, silky threads making the fabric soft rather than itchy. There was no part of your body that the garment would hide, nor would it do anything to keep you warm, but it would put you on display, and that was what you wanted. 

Not that you had anyone to display yourself for other than yourself. Your crush on your boss was disgustingly one sided. You knew he had his thing with Valentino and even if he liked women, and you were not so sure that he did, you couldn’t hold a candle to the towering porn moth. 

You had your fantasies, though, filed away for when you were off the clock, and that was good enough. It had to be good enough. It would be good enough. You would not fuck up your job and the security it provided by outing your little or not so little crush on Vox. 

What you would do was just buy yourself intimate items that would remind him of you from the other side of town. He would never know. It was as close to having your cake and eating it too as you could get. 

A bright blue push-up bra snagged your attention. It delighted you when you grabbed it, finding it to be in your size. It would surely place your tits on a shelf, making them look amazing. Along with it, you added a cheeky pair of panties. Thongs were so in style, but you loved the lace backing of the pair you grabbed, how it would hide none of your ass but draw attention to everything it pretended to cover. Rhinestones dotted the waistband, sure to glitter and catch the light through the robe. 

The lacy continued on the front, dipping down into the silk that would cover your pubic mound and extend between your legs, covering your core in a sharp V. It was like it was made with your employer in mind. 

Maybe it was. Vox was recently voted hell’s sexiest bachelor, though you doubted that if he hadn’t won honestly, he would have had you rig the results. 

With your clothing sorted for the evening, you set about looking at toys. 

You were far from a blushing virgin, but you didn’t have the largest collection either. If you were going to leave here with a whole outfit to remind you of Vox, one of many you had collected over the years but surely the most blatant one so far, you should go all out. 

Dildos of very shape and size lined the walls. Some thrust on their own, some squirted some simulation of jizz for the lonely sinner who couldn’t find someone to actually cum in thier holes. They came in all sorts of shapes too. 

The taboo of dildos outside of the human shape was long gone in hell. It was hard to give a shit about if a dick looked like that of a dog, a cat or something else when most of the citizens were far from humanoid in the rest of their bodies. 

It was just one more thing you simply had to get used to. 

“What would his look like?” Again, you were talking to yourself. 

You picked up different shapes and styles, each heavy in your hand. What caught your eye and stopped your breath was a thick, humanoid cock that would stretch you. Vox was tall and surely he would be gifted in size as well. He would have to be to be proportionate. 

It was meant to be; you decided as you ran your fingers over the veins. The plastic was dark blue and you couldn’t think past the way it reminded you of the color of Vox’s forearms when he’d shed his coat, rolling up his white sleeves and settling into a problem. 

As you made your way down the aisle, you intended to call it a day. The items in your arms would be far more than you had intended to spend, but a bright blue anal plug caught your attention. A pretty blue gem topped shiny silvery metal. It was impulsive as you grabbed it up, adding it to the stack of stuff you piled on the counter. 

“Please, hurry?” You asked the cashier after checking the time on your phone. You had a late meeting to sit in on with Vox. Thankfully, it was remote and you could attend from home, but Vox would know if you didn’t make it home in time. 

The clerk did everything but hurry. Each item was scanned at a relaxed pace as you stood, bouncing on your heels as you waited. It was amazing how long it could take to scan what amounted to a handful of items. 

“It’ll be $425,” the clerk said slowly. “And 37 cents.” 

You rushed, grabbing a card from your purse and shoving it into the hands of the clerk as soon as it was time to pay. The total didn’t really matter to you. Truth be told, you didn’t really hear to number. Everything was expensive in hell, but Vox compensated you well for your work.

You snatched up the receipt and the card, shoving them both into the bag before dashing outside. The slowly melting snow splashed under your boots, shooting burning drops of water up onto your legs. Though the pants you wore were resistant, that didn’t stop the fabric from smoking slightly as you rushed your way across the city. 

Vox leaned back in his chair as an unexpected notification ran across his screen. Someone used the company card at some slinky little sex store across the city. Digital eyes scanned the data, looking for the cardholder’s name so that he knew who it was he needed to kill for being so careless as to misuse company finds, only to find it was your card. 

You were never careless. At least, not typically. 

Vox delved deeper into the data, searching for who owned the unfamiliar store. It wasn’t one of Valentino’s, but that wouldn’t stop Vox from finding out what you had purchased. 

Sure, it was a little stalkery but really; you had spent his money. Technically, those items belonged to him. He purchased them. He deserved to know what it was he had purchased for you. The store’s systems took little effort at all to break into. 

In less than ten minutes, he was searching sales records for the order tied to you. 

“Ah,” His eyes flicked from one screen to another as the search pinged with a result. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” 

Vox had always been rather fond of you, growing more so as each year passed. You seemed to be unaffected by his flirting, attempts seeming to go right over your head. Though he had tried again and again to flag your attention, he never seemed to make any headway with you.

At least, that’s what Vox had thought. 

Now, as he sat as his eyes scanned the sales list, he wasn’t so sure about that. It was hard to deny what he saw. The grin on his screen spread greedily as he imagined you wearing the bra and panty set you had picked out. What a lovely color it would be on you! Would you drape the lacy robe over your shoulders, tie it together and pretend to be covered?

You were taking the meeting from home tonight. Would you be wearing your pretty little getup as you listened to his voice? Surely, you had been thinking of him while you shopped. There was no way you picked the colors out based on a sense of company loyalty. 

Vox hoped so. He had already decided he would take a peek at you through the webcam. What harm could it do? A little confirmation that they were for you and not some lover you had lined up. If you were into chicks only or had someone already, that would explain why you were not taking the bait on any of his advances. 

Before he did that, there was more to the list. Scrolling down, he found a sex toy he had forgotten Val had roped him into making. It was a replica, well nearly, of his own tool. The item was discontinued years ago and Vox hadn’t allowed his name to be used for the marketing directly, but it would seem there are some still on the shelves of the smaller stores. 

Along with the long forgotten replica of his cock, you had purchased a plug for your ass, topped with a pretty blue gem. Would you wear it while you worked? Vox hoped you would. He’d give anything to bend you over his desk and see that pretty little gem peeking out from under your skirt. 

“Fuck,” Vox groaned as he settled into his chair, letting the cables connect to the back of his screen.

On the other side of the internet connection, you walked through your apartment. In your panic, you had mis-recorded the time of the meeting and found yourself with two hours to spare. 

There wasn’t as much time as you wanted, but it was more than enough time. You made a point of rocking your hips as you walked up to the full-length mirror next to your desk. The robe hugged your curves, caressing your legs as you walked. 

The bra and panties were such a contrast with the bright blue robe. It made the items pop out from under the fabric. The dark blue heels you wore clicked against the wooden floors. 

You wished it was Vox you were walking up to. You wished it was Vox that would be taking your news purchases off your body. It wasn’t fair, but you would make do. There was no way you were going to present yourself to Vox, to ask him to notice you. He had Valentino and you would never hope to catch his eye over him. 

You ran your hands over your curves as you rocked your hips this way and that. You couldn’t have Vox, but you could pretend. Long step after long step took you to the bed. There was no audience, but that didn’t stop you from putting on a show as you wiggled out of the lacy panties. 

Crawling up onto the bed, you faced the mirror as you cupped your breast through the lace and cup of the bra. Spreading your legs, you moaned as the cold air washed over your wet folds. You grabbed the plug, small but no less intimidating to your inexperienced self, and ran the cold metal over your folds. 

You gathered slick on it, using it to smear slick down to your virginal asshole as you watched yourself in the mirror. 

On the other side of the internet connection, Vox watched with wide eyes as you gasped, head thrown back and breasts pushed out. The shiny silver point of the plug worked into your tight asshole as Vox’s pants grew painfully tight around his waist. 

“Oh,” you moaned, the laptop speaker just picking up the sound. “Fuck, Vox.” 

“Oh, shit.” Vox scrambled to work his pants open, eyes never leaving the screen as the plug sank deeper into your puckered asshole. “Oh, fuck. Oh, damn.” 

“I’ve never,” you gasped again as your asshole gave up the battle against the intrusion, spreading to swallow the plug and pull it deeper in one quick motion, “Fuck,” you cried out before continuing, “Done this before.” 

“Oh baby,” Vox cooed from his chair as he ripped the fly of his pants open and yanking his cock out. He pumped his fist around his shaft as he watched. “First time having something in that pretty little ass of yours? Let me show you how good it can be.” 

You pushed and pulled on the plug in your ass, letting your body stretch and adjust to the intrusion. Shudders ran through your body as it struggled with the unfamiliar feeling. 

That didn’t stop you from running your fingers over your clit, smearing slick around as you chased pleasure. Once your trembling stilled, you picked up the intimidating dildo. 

It had seemed reasonable in the store, but now that it was out of the package and in your hands, you knew it would be a task. The bubbling sound of air in the viscous liquid filled the room as you squeezed a generous glob onto the head of the artificial cock. 

The silky liquid was smoothe and cold as you used your hand to spread it over the soft plastic. You were determined to spread yourself over him tonight, before your meeting. 

You deserved this. You told yourself that over and over as you worked the large head into your tight opening. The shaft inched deeper and deeper as you pushed it unrelentingly inside. The thin wall separating it from the metal plug in your ass was pinched, not painfully so, but enough that you couldn’t hope to forget how full you were.

“Fuck, Vox.” It was cheesy, lame to moan the name of your crush while you fucked yourself decked out in his colors, using toys that reminded you of him on your body, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was going to ever find out, anyway. 

“Fuck me,” you moaned as the dildo reached as deep inside you as you could push.

“In a heartbeat,” Vox said, fist working along his length greedily. 

He zoomed in on the camera, using every bit of editing software he had to sharpen the image. His eyes ran over your body, taking in the way your cunt was spread over the poor replica of his cock. 

“You’re so big,” you moaned as you wiggled the base of the cock, rocking the length inside you. “Can’t fit it all.” 

“Don’t worry,” Vox’s hips twitched, humping up into his hand as he watched you pull the dark blue cock from your body just to shove it in again. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll make you take it all. You can do it,” 

His rhythm was growing slopping as he chased his orgasm. With what little processing power he could spare, he reached out to Papermint- not his ideal assistant, but fuck, he would not bother you right now. You were doing far more important things for him. 

He generated the email, marking it urgent and sent off his demand for the evening schedule to be cleared. You were lazy in your thrusts as he worked his fist faster and faster. His balls pulled up and as you moaned his name again. 

“Fuck, Doll,” Vox was thrusting into his fist now, hand hitting his pelvis in a bruising pace. “Babydoll keep saying my name, just like that, and I’ll-” 

“Vox,” you moaned as you thrust the dildo into you again and again, pace picking up. “Fuck, Vox.” 

Vox’s legs kicked out as he came, hot ropes of white cream shooting through the air as he twitched. The screens all went blue, except for the one feeding the video from your camera. His hand lazily stroked his cock as he waited for more of his systems to power back on. 

The blue screen that had replaced his face blinked once before Vox had regained his systems. He watched as you moved onto your knees, preparing to ride the dildo. 

“Don’t worry, Dollface.” Vox said, tucking his cock back into his pants. “I’ll be right over.” 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 25

So, I know we were all disgusted by the freak South who dated a lizard who was the same species as him(ewww). So I am happy to tell you all that we are going back to some good ol' freaky furry romance.

Better yet, this chapter is about Haru and Legosi!

The main couple of Beastars now practically live together since their universities are pretty close to each other. Haru is doing her third year in college and Legosi, now with a clean criminal record, is doing his first year in college, studying entomology.

Good for you, Legosi :) It is never too late to get back to school!

So, the wolf and the rabbit has been together for three years now and (for the most part) live together. You know what that means...

Oh yeah! They sleep together!

... In separate beds! There is no sex whatsoever!

Haru asks the same question as the rest of us: HOW?!?!?

Well, the first night Haru spent at Legosi's place, the ussual happened:

Like most wolves, Legosi makes small bites when he gets overly exited. Haru didn't get hurt, she got a scratch behind her ear, it's not the end of the world.

But afterwards, their relationship has been... well, casual.

There is no sexy atmosphere between them since the biting incident. They still spend their free time together, but it is almost like they are a middle-aged married couple where they brush their teeth together and everyday stuff like that. It bothers Haru a great deal since she is a college girl and it makes her feel old, makes the two of them feel old. She would like to get wild while she is still young... But to be fair, don't you think you had plenty of fun already, Haru?

I'm not slut-shaming or anything, just saying.

Anyways, Haru contacts Juno. Yep, everyone's favorite queen wolf is back!

Two things I noticed is that Haru now calls her "chan", implying a bit more friendly relationship between the two of them. Second is that even though Juno is here to give Haru input and advise about wolves, we don't get to learn anything about what her life is like right now.

YOU ARE KILLING ME, PARU!!! YOU ARE TORTURING ME SPECIFICALLY BY NOT LETTING US LEARN WHAT HER LIFE POST-LOUIS IS LIKE!

As I was saying, Haru wants Juno to give her advice to kick Legosi's wolf instincts into high gear. Juno is unsure if that's such a great idea(no duh!) but share what would normally make a male wolf... excited.

There is just one problem... Legosi is... well, Legosi.

He is a terrible mix of extremely polite, concerned and dense.

Nothing Haru does triggers Legosi, he misreads the signals completely and Haru starts to wonder if they have simply lost their spark.

Then, one night as Haru goes to bed disappointed that she haven't unleashed the beast so to say, she sees that Legosi is awake.

It's full moon, and Legosi can't help it but to stay up and watch it. Even if it is bogus that the moon should somehow affect wolves, Legosi and his fellow canines are still emotionally attached to it. Haru says she can relate to this to some degree, probably because rabbits have a religious connection to the moon.

This is possibly the first thing their species have in common. So the two of them goes for a late night/early morning stroll, enjoying the beautiful moon.

The two of them just enjoy each other's company, it's nice and quiet. They are not tired from class or trying to study or doing everyday tasks, meaning they can actually connect on a emotional level.

And then we get the twist:

As stated earlier, Legosi accidentally scratched Haru's ear when he got "excited" and Haru assumed it killed the vibe between them. But this seems to imply that he was waiting for the wound to heal completely.

Or maybe it is because they are both relaxed that Legosi feels less anxious.

Either way, they don't spend this night in separate beds.

I'm gonna be honest, it was not the best Haru x Legosi story I read, I would have liked a bit more of the classic Paru insanity. But I very much enjoyed it, and this specific story shouldn't have that much crazy because it is about the lack of insanity in the wolf and rabbit's life. We get to see that Legosi can finally get a real career and even achieve his dream of working with insects and how much they have evolved as an actual couple, not just furry angst and tension between the rabbit and wolf. It also feels like Paru is ending Beast Complex for real this time to focus more on her other projects, and if that's the case then this was a nice way to end it.

I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

[citrustan]

lovefool [drabble 5] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

summary: where jungkook shows you how much he likes you. ;) ft. taehyung and yuna :p

wc: 2.8k

note: WELL its here... i smutted. this is a part of the 'lovefool' au. you can also find the main story on my pinned post! this drabble contains smut--- it's mostly smut (kissing, boob stuff, cunnilingus, the tiniest slightest bit of voyeurism, its almost nonexistent). + this takes place way after chapter 6 happens. this is a reupload (sort of) bec i rewrote the thing.

You stretch your legs and point your toes, poking your boyfriend's side.

He then casually grabs your feet, places them on his lap and begins to gently press and massage your heel and toes. He purposely avoids your sole because you’re extremely ticklish.

“My feet are too dry.” You complain. Jungkook glances at your expression and back at your feet.

“Want me to suck on them?” He partially lifts your foot, bringing it closer to his open mouth.

While you resist and playfully kick him, you wonder whether he would actually be into it. You just want him to touch you all over, you want to feel his presence on your entire body and soul.

"Come 'ere." Jungkook grunted with his arms outstretched towards you.

He sat back on his end of the sofa.

Somewhat shy, you comply. You fold your legs back and painstakingly kneel-crawl towards his side on the couch.

Jungkook lovingly engulfs you in a tight hug, disabling any movement for you to make.

"Hi." You coyly smile at him when he pulls back, yet holding you close.

You can smell cologne and cigarette smoke on him. It's so sexy. Smoking is terrible, but you find it really hot when he smells of it. But you'd never tell him that.

Somehow, he already knows. He notices the way you get a lot more nervous around him after he's stepped out for a quick smoke; the way you rub up and down your own arms to self-soothe. You start acting cute, give him stupid, big eyes and look away when he catches you.

You think you're being lowkey but you really aren't. It's funny, but sexy funny.

Jungkook's response is instant, "Hey."

"Wanna kiss." You softly speak, still shy.

"I want to love you." Jungkook whispers as he stares directly into your eyes.

You, however, shy away from his gaze and turn your head to the side, opting to look at the laptop screen instead.

Still somewhat in your kneeling position, you lean forward and put your weight on him, indulging him in another hug.

This time, Jungkook sits up before accepting your hug. You bury your head in his chest.

"Why are you acting shy, hm?" Jungkook mocks. "Let me see your face, red delicious."

You know, like the apples? Because you're blushing. Even if it doesn't show, he knows the blood has rushed to your cheeks now.

You keep your face pressed against his chest.

He was a very patient man.

You deeply sigh before finally gathering the courage to actually turn your words into action.

In one swift movement, you get off his couch and stand before him, urging him to get up as well.

When he does as you wish, you hold his hands and lean in to peck his lips.

You kiss on him once. Then again. And again.

Jungkook smiles and keeps his eyes shut as he allows you to find your vibe.

His jeans begin to tighten around a specific region, but he does his best to ignore the animalistic urge to just grab you and start grinding on you. But, you really liked when he did that. You like it when Jungkook takes charge, but it's important for him to know you're truly comfortable and ready, so he lets you lead first. Consent is sooo sexy.

"Babe..." You pout and look at him through your lashes.

You're acting cute again.

"Uh huh?" He teases, acting as if he doesn't know exactly what you're asking for.

At this, you push yourself towards him and sort of, rest your breasts on him. Your breathing starts to get heavier.

Jungkook looks down at the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest. He can feel your nipples harden.

"You should wear more dresses like these..." His voice trails off as you begin rubbing his bicep.

The two of you stare into each other's eyes. You see the lust brewing in his (eyes).

You bring your hands to the collars of his jacket and smoothen them out. Your cold fingertips momentarily graze the naked skin of his neck.

Jungkook lets out a low moan. "Babe."

"Hm." You then run your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook plays with the hem of your white sundress, lightly brushing against your thigh in the act.

Starting to become somewhat riled up, you suddenly grab his hands and place them on the back of your bare thigh, under your dress.

Instantly, he understood what you wanted him to do.

Jungkook dives in.

He tugs you closer by the thighs and kisses you deeply.

Although you saw it coming, you still moan in surprise. Actually, it's more in delight rather than the former.

Slowly, he inches up to your butt, and then your waist and back.

With your hands now making their way to play with his hair, you slightly open your mouth to allow him to suck on your tongue.

Your thighs are tightly pressed together as if that were to plug your pussy up as his hands grab at and caress your body.

Jungkook kissed and sucked on your lips and tongue. Your teeth knocked against each other's once or twice.

Your eagerness was adorable.

You continue kissing and moaning until you start feeling Jungkook get bigger and harder in his pants, rutting against your stomach.

Slowly and steadily, you pull away from him with only a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths.

There you stood before him--- your lipstick and gloss smeared on your face, pupils dilated with love and ecstasy, lips swollen and ready to be kissed once again, and drool running down your chin.

A little out of breath, you softly smiled at him.

"Wanna show you something." You look down at your chest and start to unbutton your dress.

Jungkook palms his cock through his jeans for a little relief, still breathing heavily, unable to take his eyes off your pretty chest.

After unbuttoning the first four buttons, you gently move the pieces of clothing on either side of your breasts.

You flash him your newly bought lace balconette bra. It's white, decorated with a pink strip of satin tucked in on the lining, with a perfect, little bow perched in the centre, and sheer.

With hitched breath, Jungkook places both his hands on your shoulders and runs his thumb along your collarbone. "So pretty, baby. The prettiest girl in the world. _____."

Flattered, you push your chest out a little more.

"Can you... Do you want to touch them?" You embarrassingly reword your question. He playfully smirks at your shyness.

"Yeah. Will you let me touch them? Can I kiss them? Can I suck on them? Your nipples are begging to be touched, doll." Jungkook’s thumbs now inch towards the top of your breasts.

You blush and coyly, yet eagerly nod.

On your affirmation, he roughly pulls your bra below your breasts and they pop out with a slight bounce.

Suddenly, you squeak and involuntarily cover your chest with both hands. Your eyes were instinctually squeezed shut and trained down at your feet. His hands slid down to your sides.

Jungkook chuckled, “Babe?”

“Sorry…” You smile embarrassingly.

“Nuh uh," Jungkook smiles as if he were to say 'do not apologise for having boundaries.' "Do you still want to?” He caressed your cheek.

Once again, you nod.

At that, your boyfriend firmly pries your hands away from your chest and propels them around his own shoulders. You massage the nape of his neck.

He urges you to look into his eyes, and when you do, he swiftly dives in and attaches his wet mouth to your nipple.

You gasp and throw your head back in pleasure.

You shift your weight back and forth on your feet, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the hot, burning sensation in your belly.

Jungkook groans into your skin and begins to lick your nipples. He drags his tongue on the circumference of your areola and then from one nipple to the other, occasionally thumbing and softly pinching them.

He gives equal attention to both your tits, suckling and squeezing them. Never letting either one go neglected.

Jungkook teases your nipples with his fingers as he kisses up your neck, making you whimper and gasp. Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging and soothing his scalp.

His fingers circle and rub on your nubs so rapidly and for so long that it begins to overstimulate you. The discomfort of still being on your feet, in Jungkook's hold, and squirming--- you love it. And you're starting to be more vocal, unable to hold back the little moans that threaten to come out.

"Don't stop... please... it's so... so good-" You whine.

He moans in response, as to say 'okay' and continues the pleasurable abuse on your sensitive nipples and neck.

Jungkook briefly raises his head up to lock you in a sweet kiss which you happily accept.

Before he returns to kissing and inadvertently bruising all over your chest, you stop him with a whisper, "JK..."

You seem of breath. And somehow, still so bashful.

Even when you've bared your chest for him, you're so shy.

"Tell me, doll." As Jungkook waits for you, he pecks you in random places. First, on your forehead, then your throat, then your sternum, your right nipple and so on. You lean into the warm, fuzzy feeling the action brings.

A little distracted, you shake your head. You can't begin to explain what you want.

So you simply resort to a - "Jungkook... I want you."

"You have me, _____." He sincerely smiles and kisses your lips.

"Noo..." You cutely exasperated, furrowing your brows. "Ugh."

"Yes?" Now you had Jungkook's full attention. He stops kissing on you to look you in the eyes.

The expression on your face shows that you're using every, little brain cell to get this out of you. Your boyfriend stares on endeared and almost laughs.

"Wantyoutotouchmethere." You blurt out in a single breath and look down at your bodies, resting your forehead on his chest.

"Oh." Jungkook smirked, "That's all?"

You pull back and roll your eyes at him. "Yeah," You mock, "That's all."

Jungkook snorts and immediately returns to lick your nipples just to rile you up a bit more.

The sudden assault makes you roughly push away from him. "JK! I'm- it's like. So-" You groan, a little frustrated and a lot flustered.

What you really want is for him to eat your pussy. Your girl is like yearning to be savoured.

Now, Jungkook laughs out loud. "I know, baby. I just wanted to cherish you." He pouts towards the end.

Shyly smiling again, you sit back on the sofa.

Like a moth to the flame, Jungkook turns to face you and kneels before you.

Ever ready to give you what you indirectly asked for, he taps your limbs. "Open up."

When you hesitantly part your legs a few inches wide, Jungkook lifts your feet off the floor by your knees and then sort of just... folds you. Your thighs were pressed to your chest.

He smiles up at your flushed visage. You stare at him with big eyes, patiently waiting, yet eager for his next move.

Your core is presented to him on a platter as if he were some kind of king waiting to feast.

He rubs you all over your inner thigh, leading to your lips.

Your mismatched white cotton panties with a black bow in the centre hinder his view of your pussy. The underwear somewhat resembles your bra, he thinks it's from the same line, only a different colour. (pink satin lining bra/ black satin lining panties.)

Jungkook's cock is painfully hard, but he chooses to please you first. Although, eating you out going to get him off too.

You tenderly place your hands atop your knees and nibble on your manicured fingers in anticipation.

Jungkook leans down to kiss you through your panties and takes your scent in. His mouth is already watering. He then places one, harsh lick over it making you shiver.

He smirks up at you, and mouths at your swollen lips over the fabric before slowly pulling them to the side. You whimper and jerk and reach down to hold your panties to the side for him.

Jungkook smiles down at you. He's practically drooling.

Your pussy glistens in the sunlight.

He traces your slit with gentle touch making you quiver and clench around nothing.

You clench your toes in order to contain the rush of excitement taking over you.

Jungkook reaches out to hold your free hand which you gladly accept. And you kiss his fingers.

Then, finally, he places a soft kiss on your cunt. And then another one, not as soft. And another one a little harder. Every touch makes you moan a little louder. And finally, he deeply kisses and tongues your pussy, making you yelp in surprise.

He forces your lips open with only his thumb and index finger and dives in. You throw your head back and whine loudly.

Jungkook purposely avoids your clit but eats all around it, over, under, and on the sides. It drives you up the wall. You're wiggling around and Jungkook releases your hand to hold you down forcefully.

Forcing away your hand that holds your panties to the side, he relies on his own face to keep your underwear out of the way.

His tongue occasionally prods at your tight, wet hole. Jungkook groans in satisfaction, hurriedly licking up every bit of your sweet, and sticky essence.

Jungkook then instructs you to play with your tits, and you do as he wishes, pressing down circles on your sensitive nipples. He wishes he had more than two hands to touch you everywhere at once so you can be his pretty little pillow princess.

Your eyes are tightly screwed shut and you don't know what to do with your head. Your squeals and cries are consistently loud. All you know is that you can't stay still. It's too much!

Your boyfriend grabs your thighs, pulls you closer to him, and spreads your legs wider, "Mmhh, JK... Pleeeaseee..." - Mentally, you joyfully thank your younger self for doing all the yoga that made you susceptible to all the stretching, bending, and manhandling Jungkook is subjecting you to.

Running his hands all over your inner thighs, he jeers.

You feel so hazed, and dazed, and overcome with pleasure- "Oh!" You almost sob as your boyfriend suddenly wraps his mouth around your clit. He moans back in response.

At this point, your train of thought is simply nonsensical. "Yes....aarghh, you're so, so... meaan, JK!"

Jungkook rapidly licks your sensitive, little bundle of nerves. He makes your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes point to the heavens. You're near to tears as you cry, "I wan' marry you, JK... I will make you cakes... and I will kiss you and love you... forever and ever and pleaseee... moreee...!" You feel him smile into your cunt.

When you start to grind against his mouth and harshly grope your own body, Jungkook knows you're close. Wanting to prolong this, Jungkook goes back to licking all over your swollen lips when, all of a sudden, you hear a loud cackle.

Immediately following that comes the most annoying screech you've ever heard.

Ok, you know that noise.

Your eyes snap open and you look around to find the source of those sounds: Taehyung AND Yuna.

A little pussy-drunk, Jungkook takes a while to pull away so you had to force his head away from your sensitive princess parts.

He finally looks behind him.

At his door, stood Taehyung, and Yuna who had now covered her eyes. Taehyung, of course, just gawked shamelessly.

He instantly snaps your legs shut, holding them together, and cusses in anger, "Dude, what the fuck?"

You're confused, still quivering, and very horny. Taehyung's sight falls on you. Your hair's a little wild, your mouth slightly agape, your face red, and you're virtually crying tears (of pleasure that now turn into ones of frustration.) He can't seem to look away.

Forcing himself to snap out of it, he plays it off teasingly, "Dudeeee. Don't let us stop you, we're only here for the oven." Taehyung laughs and struts into the room.

"Nice tits, _____." Taehyung directs at you.

Still hazy, you smile sweetly, "Thanks!"

Jungkook and Yuna's heads snap towards you in shock.

Wow... What had he done to the shy _____?

You only sighed dreamily and slumped even deeper into the couch, your orgasm long forgotten.

Jungkook then took it upon himself to re-robe your naked tits.

Soon, Yuna walks into the room and sits diagonal to you, instantly busying herself with her phone. Neither of you acknowledge each other.

Typically, you'd be humiliated and embarrassed about being caught nude, but right now? You're ecstatic even though you didn't get to cum.

You're childishly enjoying Yuna's forced nonchalance and bitter expression, cheesing so hard on the inside that your lips involuntarily start curving upwards.

And as if Jungkook sees right through you, he leans in and kisses you. "Stop that, you little monster." He reprimanded half-heartedly.

[ckret2]

Chapter 24 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's extremely inconvenient prisoner, featuring: the Pines figuring out a way to chase off Bill's ex-girlfriend... who happens to be a giant eyeball with bat wings.

It kinda goes like this.

(A head's up before we get going: this chapter is a bit more mature than prior ones, so I feel like a warning's in order. There's no sex, and nothing here is erotic or sexy (unless you, too, happen to be attracted to eye-bats), BUT there IS some academic speculation on the logistics of alien sex, and some very filthy-sounding dialogue describing acts that, to humans, aren't sexual at all. Plus some dirty humor and toilet humor. And nothing here is what I'd call billford quite yet, considering Ford still very much hates Bill's guts—but like, he's definitely a little too obsessed with the anatomy of triangles for it to be normal. If any of this is too spicy for you, skip this chapter and come back next one. We'll be starting a new "episode" then.)

####

It was past midnight. In his search for the eye-bat repellant recipe, Ford had flipped through every notebook he'd used during his initial interviews of the residents of Gravity Falls, flipped through them a second time, torn apart half his bookshelves looking for any reporter's notebooks he might have accidentally sorted in with his larger binders, and now he was exhausted, frustrated—and, worst of all, bored out of his mind.

Which made it hard to avoid thinking about more interesting topics.

And for the last hour he'd been unwillingly plagued with the question of how an eyeball and a triangle had a "casual physical thing." 

If that didn't mean sex—and you never knew with aliens—then it was still something close enough to fill the same social/recreational niche. It certainly meant sex on the eye-bat's side, Ford had fully documented the reproductive cycle of eye-bats, that was sorted out—but triangles?

It had to be something that would work in the second dimension. Ford had visited a two-dimensional universe populated by geometric shapes, he knew roughly how their bodies functioned: a shape's perimeter was its external surface—its "skin"—and its internal organs were inside that perimeter. So if Bill was still configured the way he had been in his home dimension, any external reproductive anatomy would have to be somewhere on his perimeter, right? Maybe at one of his corners? Or camouflaged where the seams of his brick pattern reached his edges?

But then if Bill were a normal two-dimensional person, he'd have his eye on the edge of his body, not right in the center of his "internal organs." So he'd been rearranged to some extent. Who knew how the rest of his body worked now? His top hat contained flesh and a skeletal structure; maybe it was a removable reproductive organ that could be passed to a partner, like some cephalopods' detachable tentacles—

Ford flinched as he realized Bill was staring at him.

To aid in his anatomical speculation, Ford had drawn a diagram of Bill in his journal and labeled various points on the triangle that might be concealing reproductive anatomy. He quickly scratched out the drawing's staring eye and slammed his journal shut. 

He'd happily gone thirty years assuming that Bill had no sex life—Bill was an energy being who presented himself as a floating featureless triangle, his hobbies involved cheating at chess and discussing multidimensional transportation, he probably wasn't designed for "physical things," and if he was designed for it then surely he wasn't interested. Ford was not pleased to have his assumptions disputed.

Because the thing was—Ford knew more than any living human about the mating rituals of unicorns, werewolf/mermaid couples, stomach-faced ducks, and tentacled warrior piglets. (Did he ever know about tentacled warrior piglets.) He had the only photos of a gnome mating ball, which he didn't need, because that horrible sight would be forever seared into his long-term memory. He knew the names of twenty obscene acts in siren sign language, and knew how to use his extra fingers to make them extra obscene. This wasn't unfamiliar territory to him. He was curious about how strange, supernatural creatures functioned; and those functions included how the reproductive drive influenced their behaviors; and a living triangle that had escaped from the second dimension was certainly a strange supernatural creature.

But, unfortunately, it was also Bill Cipher. And Ford did not want to think about what Bill did in bed. ... Assuming he used a bed. Really, at this point the only thing Ford knew was that Bill's only admitted partner was capable of flight. Maybe he just hovered while he—

Ford slammed his journal shut again to stop himself from scribbling down more theories, then stuffed the journal in a desk drawer for good measure. Did normal people think like this? He had no idea. He didn't even know who he could ask.

Enough of this. Back to searching for that eye-bat repellant recipe, and this time he wasn't stopping until he found it.

####

Like a vast eye in an upside-down triangle, the circular center of the portal lit up so bright blue it was almost white. The four energy vents glowed in sympathy. A rainbow constellation lit up in twirling patterns around the central light.

Bill watched with bated breath, a second-dimensional shadow waiting for his door to the third dimension to open. The cavern walls shook; the ground quaked and rumbled ominously; Bill didn't care. The portal was stable, the lab was somebody else's problem, and Bill had a party to get to.

The steel beams supporting the cavern rolled like a wave, and Bill's stomach roiled with them. They weren't supposed to be able to move like that. But he knew what he was doing, the portal was stable, he was not here to destroy this world, he'd come here to save it, whether it wanted to be saved or not—

The whole world undulated. Bedrock and steel were not built to undulate. Bill bobbed on the energy wave like a toy boat on a choppy sea; but the steel shattered, rock crumbled, shrapnel and rubble sprayed out. There was a peal of deafening thunder as the world below him cracked apart.

####

Bill woke with a gasp.

Oh. Right. Dreams.

Dream diary. With a groan, he sat up, checked to make sure no humans were coming by in the next few minutes, and pulled his stolen journal out of its hiding place.

The guide on lucid dreaming had recommended writing down his dreams in full, vivid, rich detail—any people or scenes or events, anything he could detect with his five (?) senses, as much as he could recall.

He drew a portal—gray inverted triangle with a center circle, four circles around the triangle, all five circles filled in yellow green—and then a yellow green line trailing out of the portal's side that grew progressively wigglier like a seismogram. He labeled his doodle, "this." He'd remember the rest.

After a moment of thought, he wrote, "Don't remember if I was a human or a shape. My organs were doing things a shape's shouldn't." (He wrote "human" as 人; there was no translation for the word in the language Bill wrote in. The two angled strokes stood out in Bill's rows of Morse-like dots and dashes.) "Being around so many humans who are CONVINCED I'm trying to destroy their world must be getting to me. Sixer pitched another hissy-fit about the portal yesterday. Enduring all that negative talk can't be healthy for me. I know I'm just helping their boring little planet, but maybe their accusations are getting lodged in this stupid brain's subconscious."

Maybe he should meditate a bit—go think positive thoughts, drown out the mortal voices that insisted they knew his plans better than he did. He'd had enough dreaming for one night, anyway.

Beneath the note to himself, Bill added in English: "Everything would have been fine if you'd just let me finish, Fordsy." If the humans ever did find this journal, Bill was determined to get the last word in.

Then he stowed away the stolen journal and shuffled downstairs.

He wondered how much was left of Ford's portal.

####

Old man bladder. Stan dragged himself out of bed. The other guest room bed was empty. Stan hoped Ford was sleeping in his study—he'd mentioned once he kept a cot down there. Better than pulling another all nighter studying alien sorcery or whatever.

He skipped his glasses, groped his way to the downstairs bathroom, and, yawning, lined up with the toilet.

The toilet said, "Pretty forward of you, Stanley."

Stan screamed.

He stumbled backwards out of the bathroom and hit the wall. Bill flipped on the light and leaned out to grin at him. "Careful! You're due for a broken hip any day now."

"BILL! What are DOING!"

"Trying not to get urinated on."

"Jsh—shut up!" It had dawned on Stan that if he could hear Bill without his hearing aids, then half the house probably could too. He hoped no one had overheard that. "Why are you sitting on the toilet in the dark!"

"It's a free country, Stanley Pines."

Stan raised a fist. "GET OUT!"

Bill bolted from the bathroom like a scared rabbit, then caught himself, rolled his eyes, and raised his hands over his head in mock surrender. "You could have asked nicely!"

Pointing at Bill as he retreated, Stan added, "And stop being so darn creepy! Lurking in the dark and sneaking around silently all the time, like a... some kind of—burglar ninja assassin!"

Bill turned to shout back, "What, do you expect me to make a peace cry every time I walk around? Make sure I can't sneak up and stab you in the back?"

Stan had caught about half of that. "YEAH, smart guy! It might help!"

Bill flung his hands out in defeat as he rounded the corner.

Stan finished his business, went back to bed, and glared angrily at the ceiling another ten minutes.

####

It had taken half the night, but at last Ford had disassembled the filing cabinet and found a few notebooks that had gotten stuck behind the bottom drawer, including the one with Old Lady Sprott's eye-bat repellant recipe. Ford copied it down, left a list of ingredients on the gift shop cash register for Soos, and finally dragged himself into the house to sleep.

And paused in the entryway.

Bill was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window; Ford had seen him like this before. Usually, he could make himself walk by.

But he couldn't tonight. Maybe it was yesterday's conversation still weighing on his mind, the loose ends they hadn't tied up tangling around his throat. "What are you doing up?"

Bill's voice was inappropriately calm: "Dying."

Ford's guard went up. "Do you... Literally or metaphorically?"

"Literally," Bill said. "Hey—how many decades do you think this body's got? Probably not even a century, right?"

Ford's guard went down. Just moping. But it was an interesting question, one he'd put some thought into himself—what age had Bill's body been made at? How had his body been made that age? How long would the body last? Ford had wondered whether studying Bill's freshly-made-but-already-adult body might reveal anything medically useful about how aging affected the human body; but the odds of convincing Bill to participate in any medical studies—much less finding someone to conduct the study who believed their story—were nonexistent.

Ford said, "At a loose guess, I'd put you around... fifty, maybe? A very spry fifty." Bill's hair was a shockingly vivid gold, not a hint of gray, and when he was in a good mood Bill bounced about with an enviable lack of joint pain; but Ford had seen faint, delicate creases around his mouth and eyes that spoke to age. And the look in his eyes... Ford hated the phrase "old soul"—he'd been called that by some of his school teachers, and it only made him feel the distance between himself and his age peers all the more strongly—but with Bill, it was uncannily fitting. His eyes aged his whole face.

"You think this thing looks fifty? Wow." Bill took a deep drink from a cider can. "Shooting Star's best guess was half that. Thanks for shoving me twenty-five years closer to the grave."

Half that? When Ford had been a child, he'd had a harder time guessing adults' ages, and he supposed Mabel might be the same; but it was difficult to mistake a 50-year-old for a 25-year-old. Maybe there was something else going on. He'd have to ask her later. "With exercise, a healthy diet, and a little luck, you could still live another fifty." Ford nodded at the two empty cider cans already sitting on the table. "With your current drinking habits, I'll give you five."

Bill cackled—loudly enough to make Ford tense up, afraid someone would catch them talking. "Cheers!" Bill finished off the can and slammed it down with the others. "Ugh. Finite lifespans. Awful."

"Welcome to being human," Ford said dryly.

"'Welcome to death row,'" Bill said. "Ha! What'm I doing, worrying about decades. Let's be real, I don't even need to worry about the next five years. If I haven't found a way out of this body before then..."

Bill left the thought unfinished. An uneasy weight formed low in Ford's stomach.

"Ah, whatever. Like you'd let me live that long. Right, Sixer?" Bill pushed himself up unsteadily, keeping his balance first with a hand on the back of the chair, and then on Ford's (suddenly very tense) shoulder as he passed him. "I'm going back to sleep before that last can kicks in."

The way Bill was walking, Ford wasn't sure he'd make it up the stairs. "Why don't you sleep on the folding bed in the living room?"

"No window," Bill said. "I've g—" (He stumbled on the stairs.) "I've gotta see the stars."

Of course he did. When Bill said it that way, it was so obvious Ford didn't know why he hadn't realized that himself. Where else could Bill sleep but as close to the sky as possible?

Ford listened as Bill stumbled his way upstairs, creaked across the floorboards, and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.

Ford had thirty years left. Exactly thirty years. Don't have a heart attack, you're not ninety-two yet! Ninety-two was a good, old age. Older than his father had been. But thirty years felt too soon. And yet it felt fitting, somehow, for his life to be divided so neatly in thirds.

If Bill lived another fifty years in this body, and Ford lived thirty, who would stand guard over him? Would he and Stan have to pass that burden on to their gniece and gnephew? Or to Soos and Melody?

Why was he wondering—what made him think they wouldn't find a way to kill Bill before then? What made him think he wouldn't kill Bill before the end of this very summer?

What made him so sure Bill hadn't been lying about when Ford would die? Thirty years felt too soon; but ninety-two felt flatteringly optimistic.

Ford sighed, and picked up the cider cans to recycle.

He wondered whether Bill—hiding from his ex, fretting about death, sleeping on his enemies' floor—regretted how he'd spent his life.

####

Bill's second entry in his dream diary started, "Wet dream about Iris."

He filled most of a page with an extremely graphic summary before he sighed in frustration, stowed the journal away, and stared at the ceiling as dawn crept in. Well. Terrific. He was pretty intimately familiar with how humans coupled, but he didn't have much practice with the solo act. Plus the humans would give him heck if they caught him at it. He'd just have to suffer.

So here he was, all riled up and nowhere to go.

Who else could he make miserable?

####

Stan was startled awake by a heavy pounding on his door.

"Heeey Fisherman!" Somehow, Bill's voice was even more grating at dawn. He rattled the door several more times. "Just passing by! Wanted to let you know! Here I am! Right here!"

Did that demon ever sleep? And, follow up question, could Stan knock him out for a few hours?

Ford—who must have come up after Stan went back to bed—groaned and muttered something.

Ford wasn't nearly as loud as Bill. Stan reluctantly sat up and put a hearing aid in. "What?"

"What the devil is he up to now."

"No idea," Stan lied. "Go yell at him about it, he listens to you."

Ford sighed, but got up and left the room.

A minute later, Stan heard Bill exclaim, "I can't win with you people!"

He smirked.

####

The kitchen reeked that morning. When Stan came in for breakfast, the window was open, a fan in the entryway futilely directed fresh air into the kitchen and a fan on the kitchen table directed the noxious fumes outside, there were bags of groceries on the counter—he noticed hot sauce, peppers, cheap perfume, and an entire bag of raw onions—and Ford was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of vile-smelling brown liquid. The moment he saw Stan, Ford put him to work stirring the pot so Ford could start dicing onions.

While they worked, Ford explained the situation with the eye-bat harassing the tourists and the solution he'd hit on to drive it away. Soos had collected the necessary ingredients this morning, but couldn't help cook because he was busy finding a way to block the bottomless pit—

####

Outside, Soos scooted a trampoline up to the pit, carefully lined it up with the edge—the trampoline and the pit had nearly the same diameter—and shoved it in. It plummeted into the dark. After a short wait, Soos chucked a baseball down the pit. It disappeared, then bounced back up.

Soos pumped his fist triumphantly. "Aced it."

####

—so, Ford was working on the repellant, and in the interest of public safety and the greater good he was drafting Stan into helping too.

Which Stan supposed he couldn't argue with, but considering the smell he would've preferred dicing the onions. "Is all this really necessary for one eye-bat? I usually just swat 'em off with a tennis racket."

"This eye-bat happens to be large enough to carry off a first-grader," Ford said. "And Bill claims it's his ex-girlfriend, so I don't want to risk them meeting."

"Huh." Weird thing to date, but then Stan didn't know what he did expect a triangle demon to date. "Somehow I figured he was tangled up in this."

Ford laughed ruefully.

After a moment of chopping and stirring, Ford said, "Speaking of Bill—he claims that you ordered him to announce his presence? And that you tried to pee on him."

"I did not and he's a dirty liar! He made the whole thing up!" Stan didn't expect Ford to believe him. Stan also didn't expect Ford to believe Bill. Ford knew they were both liars. What Stan expected was for Ford to side with the person he liked best.

"Uh huh." Ford didn't question Stan further. Ha. Pines solidarity.

Even though he'd already won, Stan went on: "All I did was mention how quiet he is! I can never tell where he's lurking. Sometimes I almost forget he's here." In Stan's mind, Bill had been rapidly demoted  from "active existential threat" to "annoying houseguest who blends in with the shadows." Watching him help Mabel cut pretty pictures from fashion magazines with plastic safety scissors drained away most of his intimidation factor.

Ford gave Stan a funny look. "Really? I can't forget he's here for a second. Sometimes I swear I can tell where he's been in the house—like a cold spot left by a ghost."

Stan tried to figure out how to ask whether that was a reaction to decades on the run feeling like hunted prey—which Stan knew how to cope with—or a lingering magical side effect of Ford and Bill's alien possession deal—which Stan did not. Then Ford added, "It's probably because I hear him bumping into the furniture all the time."

"Oh. Yeah. That's probably it. You've got better hearing than me." Case closed. Stan turned back to the stove—

A deafening buzz made them both start. Stan splashed boiling brown stink across the stovetop. "What—!"

Standing in the doorway with a kazoo, Bill said, "How's that, Stanley? Do you like that better?!"

"YOU!" Stan flung the stirring spoon to the floor.

Bill bolted from the room with Stan in hot pursuit. "Whoa! Mercy! Truce! You can have the kazoo! It's not even mine, I'm just holding it for a fr— Ow ow OW ow—"

Stan hauled Bill in by the back of the neck and didn't let go until he was in the middle of the kitchen. He pointed at the spoon, then pointed at the pot. "Pick it up. Get stirring." He grabbed another knife and joined Ford chopping onions. Whew, what a relief.

Bill gave Stan a perplexed look, but picked up the spoon, gave the pot an experimental sniff, and got stirring. He didn't even wince at the smell. "Is this the gnome wizz? What is this, punishment for not letting you use me as a urinal?"

"Whatsamatter, I thought you were the one who thinks pee belongs in the kitchen."

"You're both too old for toilet humor," Ford snapped. "Bill, this problem is your fault, the least you can do is help prepare the spray, and you're not getting a knife, so you're on pot stirring duty. Deal with it."

Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. (At the moment, they were both uncovered; but one was already half squinted shut against the morning light.) "Fine, but only because I like hanging out with you."

Ford scoffed.

"And I don't see how this is my fault just because we happened to date. It's not like I invited her over," Bill went on. "If anything, you should be grateful she's my ex, or else I wouldn't be helping you chase her away—"

"Hey, that's what I wanna know about this," Stan said. He gestured toward the window; the ex in question was currently circling above the gift shop entrance, like a vulture waiting for something to die. "Exactly how do you 'date' an eye-bat? Just—how does that work?"

"Well, it depends on the eye-bat, doesn't it," Bill said, a touch patronizing. "They don't all have the same tastes, you know. But she happens to like art films and water parks. Easy date."

"I'm not talking about that! You're telling us you slept with an eyeball with bat wings—right? That's what we're talking about, right?" From the corner of his eye, Stan saw Ford giving him a sharp look, but he didn't tell Stan to stop. Yeah, the nerd was curious, too.

"Yes, Stanley." Bill's condescension was almost more overpowering than the kitchen's stench. "That's what we're talking about. I 'slept' with an eyeball with bat wings." He exaggerated the finger quotes around the euphemism. "Any more prying you want to do into my personal life, or...?"

"You look at that freak out there and think it's appealing?"

Bill stopped stirring and squinted out the window. Flatly, he said, "Yep. She's still drop dead gorgeous. Thanks for asking." 

"How do you even know that's a she! How can you tell a girl eye from a boy eye?"

Ford said, "Technically, Stanley, all eye-bats are female." He held up an onion and used his knife tip to gesture at it like it was a model eyeball, "They're parthenogenetic parasites that reproduce by attacking other species' faces and depositing egg-bearing spores on their eyeballs, which swim to the tear ducts to begin incubating. Over the next few weeks, the infected eyeball grows wings and develops its own nervous system while the host slowly goes blind in one eye, until the new eye-bat is mature enough to emerge from the host's socket and seek out her mother's colony—"

Bill let out a strangled scream. "Enough!"

Stan and Ford stared at him.

"Would you stop talking about eye-bat sex?! I'm already riled up! I don't need help making it worse!"

He slammed the stirring spoon down and started pacing. "I'm losing my mind. Do you know what it's like to be randy for something you don't have the right body for?!" He gave them a pleading, slightly crazed look. "I need to feel her pupil contracting against mine. I'd lick her hot, salty tears off her sclera. I'd bite deep enough to taste her retina. I want to look like I've got pinkeye from all the bat spores coating my face. I'd give my right eye just to have one of her wings fingering my eyelid again—but if I cave and go that far I know I'd lose my head and give her the left one too, and then I've screwed up, because STUPID HUMANS BODIES can't regrow their STUPID EYEBALLS—"

He kicked the wall so hard he lost his balance and stumbled back into the stove. "Ow. I'm going insane. I can't take it. I need to kill somebody. I need to set something on fire."

Stan and Ford were petrified. Stan's jaw had dropped.

Bill was panting from the exertion of his outburst, arms trembling, face flushed. His shoulders slumped. The picture of a broken man, he said, "I'd do anything to rim her optic nerve again."

Ford let out a strangled noise.

Bill took several deep breaths. He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry! Wow. That was... I think the fumes are getting to me." He shook his head. "The fumes and the hormones. Human hormones. You know, your species has very insistent..." He gestured vaguely toward the doorway. "I'm—think I should lay down."

Stan and Ford nodded. Bill trudged from the room. A few seconds later, Stan heard springs creak as Bill flopped his full weight on the living room sofa.

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. Stan said, "I shouldn't have asked about..."

"You shouldn't have asked."

"You should have skipped the science lesson."

"I should have."

They lapsed into silence. After a moment, Ford stood up to take over stirring the pot.

Stan resumed chopping onions. "Say, d'you think he staged all that to get out of stirring?"

Ford didn't reply.

"Sixer?" Stan glanced up.

Ford had turned away from the stove, and was staring at nothing with a faraway, troubled look. It was the look he got when he'd just latched on to some mystery that would haunt him until he solved it.

"Ford—?"

Ford slapped down the spoon and stomped into the living room. "But you hate losing your eyeball! So how did you two— I mean—! The spores—?"

"Incompatible biology." Bill's voice sounded muffled. "It's why we never got serious. She wants kids and my tear ducts can't incubate wings."

"Ah! Of course. That makes perfect sense." Ford returned to the stove with a look of triumph.

Stan didn't know how Ford had recovered from that fast enough to ask follow-up questions. Weird nerd. Stan shook his head but said nothing.

####

In Ford's journal, he scratched out most of his speculation about the anatomy of Bill's species, scribbled over the diagram, and added, "I severely underestimated how much his eye is involved."

####

At one point, during Weirdmageddon, when Bill had been torturing Ford for information, Ford had spat in his eye. Bill had licked it off. He'd seemed eerily undisturbed.

Ford would probably wonder how Bill had interpreted that act for the rest of his life.

####

Outside, dressed in a homemade hazmat suit consisting of painter's coveralls and a scuba mask, Soos faced off against the eye-bat, a spray bottle strapped to each hip like a cowboy's revolvers. Dipper and Mabel stood behind him, armed with a rake and a golf club, wearing a bicycle helmet and a football helmet with tree branches taped on. The eye-bat stared them down warily.

Leaning on his elbows over the kitchen table so he could stare out the window, Bill said, "Bet you a hundred bucks she steals Questiony's hat."

Stan snorted. "I'm not taking that bet. You don't have any money."

Bill grunted and turned back to the window, just in time to see the eye-bat dive for Soos's face. Soos whipped out one of the spray bottles, dropped it, ducked down to retrieve it just as she swooped past where his head used to be, and lifted it in time to spray the eye-bat when she circled back to attack him again. She reeled off screeching, eye watering, pupil contracting. Bill winced in sympathy. Poor gal. And she didn't even have an eyelid for protection. But, hey—better for her to suffer than for Bill to risk getting caught in this body. He'd take someone else's pain over his own embarrassment any day.

"It seems to be working the same as it does on any other eye-bat," Ford said. "Good. Once she's gone, Soos and the kids can spray the rest on the roof. That should drive her off while keeping the worst of the scent away from the tourists."

Streaming tears, the eye-bat dove at the kids. They yelled in alarm. Dipper threw his rake at her and missed. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to squint at the battle with both eyes.

"What, do you see something?" Stan asked.

"Just appreciating her sphericality." Bill sighed wistfully. "That spray's gotta be excruciatingly painful—but, I've never seen her that wet before. Sure, we've fooled around with a little hot sauce a few times, but even then—"

"I'm sorry I asked."

Outside, Soos shouted, "Hey! My hat! Give that back!"

Bill wordlessly held a hand out toward Stan.

Stan smacked it away. "Nyeh."

As the eye-bat retreated toward the forest, Ford sighed in relief. "She's gone. It worked."

"You sound surprised," Bill said.

"Frankly, I can't believe that you gave us accurate information on how to get rid of her."

"What! You wound me! Why would I lie about that?"

"To trick us into doing something that strengthens her? To arrange an opportunity to meet her?" Ford suggested. "After all, as one of your Henchmaniacs, she could have helped you escape."

Bill's blood ran cold.

She could have helped him escape. SHE COULD HAVE HELPED HIM ESCAPE! He'd been so worried about not looking stupid or losing his eyes, when all this time—! He could have signaled Iris from the window, and—and the bottomless pit was right there, she could have carried a message to the gang—at the very least, she could probably open doors for him—and instead he just—when he could have—

He watched in despair as Iris's pretty little optic nerve vanished behind the trees.

No, Bill decided—no, getting her help was a terrible plan. If it was a good plan, he would have done it; so it was terrible. He had a better plan. What was his better plan?

"Come on, you think I need her? I've got all the pals I need right here—whether you're ready to admit it or not." He elbowed Ford. Bill had decided he'd wheedle Ford back over to his side, and he would. His survival depended on it. Now more than ever. "I've got a way out, don't worry about that—it's only a matter of time—and she's not part of the plan."

Ford scoffed. "Really. Last night you were moaning about being on death row."

"Wh—Hey! That was..." Not fair. He scrambled to revise his story.

"You're lying about something," Ford said. "If it wasn't how to get rid of her, then it was why you wanted to get rid of her. For all we know, maybe she wants you dead as much as we do."

"Yeah," Stan said, "the 'girlfriend' story sounds crazy enough to be true, but you seem like the kind of guy who has a string of exes who'd love to kill you." (He did, as it happened, but it wasn't his fault he kept falling for petty jealous psychos who hated seeing him thrive.)

Ford said, "If she hadn't been a danger to the tourists, perhaps I should have invited her in to talk."

Unbelievable. Even when Bill did exactly what he was supposed to, he was still the bad guy. "Fine, she was a notorious black widow and you saved my life, happy? Do you like that story better? I made it up just for you." He jabbed a finger in Ford's shoulder. "You know what your problem is? You're too paranoid. You can't trust anything anybody says. You'll only hurt yourself like that—"

Ford shoved Bill's hand away and stepped out of poking range. "I spent years unlearning the paranoia you gave me. And when I finished, do you know what I figured out, Bill? All along, there was only one person I shouldn't have trusted: you."

It stung, but only in a distant, impersonal way; like a hard slap on a numb cheek. Bill turned to give Ford a sour look. "At the lengths you take it to, I could tell you the sky is blue and you'd have to check."

Ford's gaze automatically flickered toward the window.

"Ha!" Bill angrily shoved the table against the wall as he stood up. "Thanks for taking care of my pest problem, boys." He stormed upstairs, flipping his hood up as he went. Ingrates.

####

The view out the attic window was more interesting than usual, mainly because there were three humans traipsing around on the roof spraying eye-bat repellant. From time to time Mabel came by to make funny faces at Bill through the glass; he did his best to one-up them. Once, Soos nearly fell off the roof and died; Bill hadn't laughed that hard since he was murdered.

Their return indoors was heralded by Mabel shouting, "Dibs on the shower!" and Dipper replying, "I take shorter showers, let me go first!" They pounded up the stairs. Mabel tried to take them two at a time, tripped near the top, and by the time she recovered Dipper was already in the bathroom. She groaned. "Augh! Not fair! I don't want to smell like onions and gnome pee!"

"Neither do I! I need it more, I haven't showered in two weeks!"

Bill wondered why Dipper got to go so long between showers without getting dumped in a cold tub in his sleep. (He knew why.)

Bill whistled to catch Mabel's attention. "Consolation prize." He waved a cheap perfume bottle toward Mabel. "We had leftovers after mixing the repellant. It smells like strawberry candy."

"You're my hero." Mabel took the bottle and sprayed it all over herself, in her hair, and under her sweater. "You need a shower too, you know."

"Sure, but until Dolores fumigates the kitchen I'll just blend into the background stink. I can put it off til tomorrow without anyone complaining."

"You're grossss." Mabel emphasized the hiss by poking Bill's arm. "Once I'm clean, I'm not talking to you until you've showered too."

"I'll be devastated."

"Those are my terms!" She kicked aside Bill's cushion-bed so she could sit under the window without stinking the cushions up, and settled back to wait for the bathroom. After a (very short) companionable silence, Mabel said, "It's too bad we had to chase off your ex. I can see why you like her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Can you?"

"Iris was so graceful!" Mabel said. "And murderous, but mostly graceful. Like an evil swan."

Bill laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, she is. Floats like a dream. If you think she's graceful in the air, you oughta see her in the pool. She's the only person I know who can make a cannonball look elegant."

Mabel gave him a sly grin.

"What?"

"Look at you. Yooou still like heeer." Mabel propped her elbows on the edge of the window seat and balanced her chin in her hands. "How did you meet Iris?"

For the last couple of days, almost everyone in the house had talked about Bill's ex like she was some kind of malevolent creature, rather than a person. He was used to outsiders talking about his friends that way—heck, most of his friends were malevolent creatures—but it grated all the same. (He missed home.) Just hearing Mabel call Iris by her name was a breath of fresh air. No one else had even asked if she had a name.

"I met her at a party," Bill said. "I'd just gotten a piano and was showing off, and she came by to ask about Earth music. She wasn't in my crew then—but the party was open invite, and everyone in that corner of the Nightmare Realm knew that if you wanted info on Earth, you came to Bill Cipher. So, we talked about waltzes and tarantellas, I played a little Beethoven, we hit things off..."

They talked until the bathroom was free and Mabel went to shower. Sweet kid. Hopeless romantic, though.

When Bill got out of this place, he was gonna find the first boy who would break her heart and kill him before they could meet. It was the least he could do for her.

####

The third entry in Bill's dream diary: "Shooting Star's cartoon is getting to me. I dreamed about the wolf and the cat arguing over who had to host someone's birthday party. The wolf refused to let guests into his enormous mansion, but the cat's house was burning down. They asked me how to resolve this. I told them the cat should execute the wolf as punishment for his inhospitality, take over his mansion, and wear his skin as the party host. The animals were so in awe of my wisdom that I was deified as god of the jungle."

That was not what he'd dreamed. The animals were so horrified at his suggestion that they'd tied him to a stake and forced him to watch as they threw the cat into the flames of her own house. He couldn't remember whether he'd dreamed that he was a triangle or a human.

He preferred his version. Once he'd regained control over his dreams, he could replay this one and make it end properly.

He'd get the hang of this in no time.

####

(You're legally required to tell me if you had a reaction to this one. Even if it's horror. Especially if it's horror.)

[lasciviouspoison]

omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!

oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)

i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!

~~~

toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.

not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.

however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.

you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.

toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.

after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.

and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.

and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.

however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.

you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.

meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.

of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.

he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”

toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.

shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.

which brings us to now.

“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.

“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.

toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.

suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.

“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.

he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”

toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”

you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”

he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.

alas, he was wrong.

toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”

you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

~~~

the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.

in every sense of the word, he was pissed.

he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.

you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”

you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.

you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.

toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.

everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”

the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.

when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.

you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.

you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.

suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.

~~~

2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.

toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”

by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.

finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.

you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.

he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”

and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.

he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.

he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.

he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.

“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.

toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.

after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.

he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.

he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.

he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.

the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”

without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.

“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.

“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.

toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”

he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.

he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.

“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”

and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.

he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.

he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.

“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.

he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.

before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.

he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.

you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.

you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.

he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.

he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.

he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.

after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.

those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”

you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.

eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.

his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.

at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.

he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.

he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.

you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”

you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.

you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.

he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.

he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.

he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.

once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.

as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.

[toruro]

love you twice — j. wonwoo — part three

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

warnings/tags: sexual content (18+), oral (f receiving), phone sex, mentions of past toxic relationships, thigh riding, wall sex, use of pet names (mostly angel and good girl)

w/c: 8.3k

a/n: so sorry this took a while to get out! i’ve had lots of work and just finished up traveling soooo writing this got pushed back but! that gave me time to brainstorm since i honestly never expected this story to be more than two parts LOL! but i appreciate all the love and support <3 all your comments and messages have made me so happy, and i hope you like this!

“Hey Kei-Kei!” you call out, walking out to the playground to watch your son play with his friends. It’s Friday, and of course that means fun day. You sit down at a bench crossing your arms over your chest as Kei makes his way from the slide to run up to you.

“Hey Mommy, I can play today, right?” he asks with a hopeful smile. You reach down to ruffle his hair a little, nodding.

“Yeah of course. I’ll wait here, so come to me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, before running back to play with his friends. You smile contently, leaning back into the bench when you see a familiar figure approach from the corner of your vision.

“Hey,” Wonwoo greets cooly, sitting down next to you. It’s been a week since your fourth date, and you haven’t seen him since. Your fingers are aching to reach over and hold his hand, yet you hold your touch, glancing at Kei.

“Hi, how was your day?” you ask casually, turning to him to see him better.

“It’s great. Fridays are always great, aren’t they?”

“I guess you’re right about that. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t happy that it was Friday,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully before turning your attention back to Wonwoo. He’s about to respond, but then you both hear a familiar voice calling for you.

“Hey Mommy,” Kei greets, running up to you from the side without noticing Wonwoo sitting next to you. “‘m getting tired now,” he says admittedly, and you pay on your lap to invite him.

“Is that so…” you murmur, “You gonna say ‘hi’ to Mr. Jeon?” You raise your brow and crook your head toward the man next to you, Kei turning slowly to realize who it is.

“Hi Mr. Jeon!” he exclaims happily, jumping onto your lap and waving brightly at his teacher. “What’cha doing here? Aren’t you on your weekend? My mom hates being at her work when she’s started her weekend, she always complains when her boss calls her on the evenings on Fridays.” Your cheeks burn as Wonwoo laughs, and you turn away.

“Is that so?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you with a teasing glance. “Well, I can’t say I call this work, Kei. I enjoy talking to your m—“ he pauses to glance at you. There’s something thick in the air, as if there’s a line he doesn’t know if he should cross. “—I enjoy this,” he chooses to say.

Kei, in his young innocence, doesn’t pick up on Wonwoo’s hesitance. “Hmm, okay,” he says, placing a finger on his chin as if he’s thinking.

You look down at him, placing a hand on his head. “Do you want to go home now?” you ask him, eyes flickering at Wonwoo and sending a sympathetic gaze his way—you aren’t fond of cutting your time with him so early.

“Aren’t you talking to Mr. Jeon?” Kei asks, and your heart nearly melts at his consideration.

“Yeah, but if you want to go home we will,” you reassure. Kei frowns, and Wonwoo chimes in.

“If you’re tired you should go with your mom, Kei. Playing is nice, but you should always listen to your body,” Wonwoo explains, standing up.

Kei’s frown deepens, and you furrow your brows, peering down at him. It’s not often that Kei is pouty like this, so you aren’t sure what’s going on. He’s motioning his hand for you to come close, and you figure he wants to tell you a secret. Leaning in, Kei brings his face up to your ear.

“I wanna talk to Mr. Jeon,” he whispers, and you have to bite down on your lip to hold back your grin as you pull back, giving him a small nod.

“Why don’t we talk together Wonwoo?” you suggest to the man standing next to you, and you can tell his eyes light up at the idea as he sits down.

“Yeah of course. What do you wanna talk about, Kei?” he asks, leaning an elbow on his knees to lean forward in interest.

“Okay so in class today you were talking about pie but I was wondering why you…” Kei continues to talk on his own tangent as you find yourself being into your own thoughts. Your heart swells at the sight, and it’s a wonderful reminder of just why Wonwoo is a teacher and why he has such a good reputation.

After a few minutes of Kei going back and forth with Wonwoo with his curious questions, you take note of the chilling air around you, and so does Wonwoo. “Anyways Kei, it was so nice talking to you but it’s getting a bit cold. You shouldn’t be out here for too long,” he says, standing up.

Kei pouts once more, and while you did cave once, you aren’t keen on doing it again. “He’s right Kei-Kei, I don’t want you to get sick…” you murmur, voice trailing off as you watch the look of defeat on your son’s face. A thought crosses your mind as you catch the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Hey Kei, we can go to that restaurant tonight,” you tell him, enjoying the way his face lights up. “And…” you mumble, looking up at Wonwoo who stands above you, “maybe Mr. Jeon would like to tag along?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and for a moment you’re scared that you’ve crossed the invisible line—it’s not as if you've made anything official, or talking about bringing things up with Kei, so this is all unknown territory. It’s silent, and you’re about to turn away and retract your idea before Wonwoo speaks.

“I’d like that,” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to hide your excitement. Your body courses with relief, and you look down at Kei for the final confirmation. As expected, there’s a grin adorning his face and you break out a smile of your own.

“Yay!” he squeals, hopping off from his seat on your lap. You purse your lips as you stand up and turn to Wonwoo slightly worriedly.

“Is this okay?” you ask quietly, as Kei runs across the playground to grab his backpack.

Wonwoo gives you a stern look, and you feel like you might go cozy from how intense his gaze is. “Are you okay with this?” he shoots back. “You’re his mom. Don’t do this if you don’t want,” he tells you more softly this time. “Don’t rush for me. I can wait. I will.” Your stomach tumbles at the words and implications—that Wonwoo is here, that he will be here, that he will be patient.

You let the words sink into your mind for a moment. You like Wonwoo—like really like him—and you want to tread carefully. You don’t want to make a stupid mistake by rushing into things, ruining the one good thing that’s come to you after Kei. Yet again, your gut feeling is nearly always right, and right now your gut is telling you that nothing but good can come out of this dinner between the three of you.

So that’s pretty much how you end up at your and Kei’s favorite diner, you and your son sitting side by side at the booth while Wonwoo sits across, his hands neatly folded as Kei continues to talk to him. You aren’t sure what’s possessed him—it’s really cute, honestly—but he’s never this talkative and you wonder just what it is about Wonwoo that has Kei so comfortably chatty.

“What do you like to get from here Kei?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in your son’s direction. Kei bounces up in his seat, pointing down at the menu, you and the man in front of you sharing a fond look before turning back to him.

“I like the chicken sandwich and the macaroni and the vanilla cake is so yummy even my mommy likes it and she doesn’t like vanilla and then I also like the chicken nuggets and—” You place a hand on his shoulder, and Kei stops to look up at you.

“Slow down, Kei-Kei,” you tell him. “One at a time, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Kei replies absentmindedly before turning back to Wonwoo to continue, “so then there’s chicken nuggets and I also like the milkshake and my mommy’s favorite is the fries but I don’t like them that much and I also like…”

Kei’s voice trails off in your head, your mind being pulled into some other world as the scene in front of you sinks in. You feel warm, you feel comfortable, you feel happy.

You’re floating in an off land world, and suddenly all of your worries have disappeared. All you see is bright white and three shadows. It’s a silent promise to yourself, you realize, and as you focus back on the banter between your son and your boyfriend, you become even more determined to follow through with it.

The evening ends with Kei not once halting his immersive conversation with Wonwoo, and if anything, you’re surprised that the latter still has it in him to listen so carefully and attentively. As he walks you two to your car, you’re hit with the slight disappointment that you can’t quite give him the goodbye kiss you would want to, but you both settle on sharing a long and intense few seconds of eye contact that sends you the message you both need to hear.

Arriving home, you wash yourself and Kei up, and after tucking him into bed you’re met with a text from your one and only.

i had fun

You grin.

i did too

It’s the next week, and you are once again in a rush before another date with Wonwoo. This time at least, you prepared your outfit ahead of time, but you spent maybe a little too long trying to find where you kept your favorite set of earrings which set you back about twenty minutes.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to make you guys some food,” you grumble to Jun once you have everything in your home in place, looking at your cousin exhausted.

He chuckles, “It’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll get us takeout or something.”

“I’ll make it up by making your favorite next time,” you promise, leaning against the counter. You spent the last few moments rushing around the house trying to find Kei’s stuffed animal that he insisted on having with him every night, eventually finding it stuck behind the fridge (how it ended up there, you still don’t know).

“I like the sound of that. You got a date tonight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“So,” Jun says with an eyebrow raised. His voice is unusually teasing, and you give him a wary look as you take a sip of water. “Wonwoo, huh?”

You choke on the water, coughing and sputtering liquid everywhere over your counter as you turn to look at Jun with wide eyes. “How the fuck do you—“ you gasp out, before wheezing once more.

“He’s friends with Minghao you know,” Jun explains with a smirk as he leans back onto the fridge. “Me and him have met up a few times for dinner with friends and Kei was just telling me how you had dinner with Kei and his teacher…and so I asked for his teacher’s name and when he did it rang a bell and well…I put two and two together.”

You hardly blink as Jun finishes up his tangent, the words processing in half speed. Jun chuckles at your state, patting your shoulder lightly. “Wonwoo’s a great guy. It’s kind of funny though. How you’re like dating Kei’s teacher.”

“Shut up!” you shriek, punching his shoulder. “Don’t bring that part up, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, you kind of brought this upon yourself. Definitely unexpected, but I guess it’s a funny story.”

“It’s not funny,” you murmur solemnly, burying your face in your hands. “It’s so stressful Jun.”

The humorous look on your cousin’s face is now replaced with one of concern as your voice lowers. “Okay, I’m sorry for making fun of you. I’m happy you’ve found someone you like, and that he’s like, actually someone decent,” he adds, alluding to your previous past failed relationships.

Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Wonwoo is great…it’s just complicated. For Kei, you know? How am I supposed to bring things up with him, if things do end up going further.”

Jun looks up thoughtfully before responding. “I think…you should listen to your instincts. You haven’t really dated since Seojun—hey, don’t give me that look—“

“Do you have to bring him up,” you groan, throwing your head back. Jun shoots you an apologetic look but doesn’t relent.

“Look, I’m just saying that the fact that you’re even with Wonwoo right now is a good sign that you’re ready. You’ve never done anything without putting Kei first, and I know that you’re thinking about him every step of the way, so trust yourself. And Wonwoo is great—dude he’s literally a first grade teacher.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s Kei’s teacher,” you emphasize. “Like imagine how confusing that is for him.”

“I guess, but like if you’re confident about your relationship or whatever with Wonwoo then I think you should trust that.”

“I dunno,” you sigh, walking out of the kitchen.

Jun follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder so you can look at him properly. “Trust me, and trust yourself. It’ll be fine.”

Fuck, you think to yourself, because you sure hope so. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you find Kei in his room, giving him a quick hug and bidding him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay Kei-Kei?”

Focused on his own little drawing, he waves back with a small smile before turning his attention back to his drawing, saying something along the lines of, “Bye-bye Mommy!” Retreating back to the doorway where Jun stands, you check your phone for the time before picking up your purse and heading toward the door.

“Have fun with Wonwoo. I’ll be sure to ask him how it goes,” Jun says with a smirk as you turn the knob, glaring at your cousin.

“Do it and I’ll tell Minghao how you used his toothbrush on your last trip because you forgot your own,” you threaten.

Jun laughs as you walk out into the apartment hallway before worriedly calling out, “Hey you wouldn’t actually do that. Right? Right? RIGHT?!”

Wonwoo’s car is parked out in front of your building, his windows down so he can watch you walking out. When you recognize him and his car, you smile brightly and Wonwoo thinks his heart damn nearly pops out of his chest as you bound toward him.

“About time,” he greets with a smile, unlocking the doors as you approach the passenger seat. You roll your eyes at him as you open the door and slip in. Instead of responding, you choose to lean over the midrest and press a firm kiss onto Wonwoo’s lips, pulling back just as quickly as you dove in.

“Is someone complaining?” you retort, reaching back to put on your seatbelt, grinning at the way the tips of his ears turn pink and he turns back to look at the road.

“Not at all,” he replies quickly, and you’re surprised that he doesn’t sound as flustered as he looks, making it a personal goal to embarrass him just a little more the next time you have the chance.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, save for the radio playing in the background and small conversations about the view as he drives you to the spot he took you on your first date. Pulling up into the field, you grin at the familiar scene. The evening air is warm but the breeze is cool and refreshing on your skin, oranges and pinks painting the sky as you help Wonwoo take out the picnic blanket from the trunk and lay it out on a flat patch of grass.

“So,” you begin, sitting down across from him on the blanket as he pulls out some packed food. Handing you a plate, you grin, watching him settle down himself. “Jun?” you ask curiously, wondering the extent of his friendship with your cousin.

Wonwoo looks up at you with an odd look, one eyebrow raised. “Jun? What about him? You know him?” he asks all at once, causing you to giggle.

“You know him?” you counter, and he scoffs.

“Of course I know him. Him and his best friend are basically joined at the hip—he never shuts up about Jun,” Wonwoo groans as he stands up to walk back to the car to grab something.

“Minghao?” you call out, eyes trailing his figure.

“Who else, babe, who else?” Wonwoo mutters sarcastically, bringing out a bottle of champagne, much to your delight. You chuckle at his response, leaning back on your hands. “So, how do you know Jun?” he asks, sitting back down cross-legged in front of you.

“He’s my cousin,” you say casually, holding up one glass he’s brought down so he can pour you some. Wonwoo seems to falter in shock for a moment, eyes flickering at yours to confirm that you aren’t joking before pouring out the bubbling drink.

“Really? I didn’t expect that.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it,” Wonwoo replies with a shrug, pouring his own glass and holding it up to yours so you can clink them together with a small ‘cheers.’ “I’m not that close with Jun. I guess you can say it’s a pleasant surprise, you know? We’re connected.” Your heart flutters at the words, scooting yourself closer to him. “How’d you know I know Jun?”

“Well,” you trail off, grabbing your fork and popping one of the fritters Wonwoo brought into your mouth, “Jun actually figured it out first. Apparently one day when he was babysitting Kei, Kei let it slip that we had dinner together and Jun asked for your name and…well he isn’t stupid so he got it.”

“Kei told him?” Wonwoo asks, and you can hear the twinge of worry in his voice. Reaching out a hand, you give him a comforting look.

“Yeah, I told him not to tell other kids at his school but obviously that doesn’t include Jun so he just mentioned it,” you explain.

“Oh thank god,” Wonwoo mutters. “Imagine the earful I’d get from the principal if word got around the parents that I was taking my student and his mother out for dinner.”

“I can imagine the earful you’d get from other moms to have their own dinners with you,” you murmur, huffing at the thought. Wonwoo gives you a funny look. “Okay don’t give me that look, you know they think you’re hot.”

“But I am hot,” Wonwoo replies smugly, and you glare at him as you pull your hand away from his to cross them over your chest.

“Whatever,” you grumble, turning your head away. Catching onto your sulky mood, Wonwoo reaches out on his own to grab your forearm to tug you towards him. You stumble over your knees a little, but within seconds his arms are steadying around your waist and pulling you next to him so you can rest your body against him.

“Okay sorry,” he tells you sincerely, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t control how they think, but I can control how I think, and I think that you’re the hottest person alive.”

Your cheeks burn, and you squeeze your eyes shut in his hold. “Shut up, don’t be corny.” Wonwoo laughs, holding up a sandwich to the front of your lips, encouraging you to open up. As you heed his silent requests, Wonwoo responds.

“You know you love it.”

Mouth full, you grumble something about telling him to shut up again, which has Wonwoo laughing more.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks after some time spent finishing your food and bickering, and you can tell from the way his voice is an octave deeper that this conversation is taking a different turn.

“Yeah, of course,” you say as you shift your head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder.

“And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he adds and you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him. His expression is unreadable, but you have an idea of where this is going.

Thinking for a moment, you reply, “It’s about Kei’s father, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo frowns. “Am I that readable?” You smirk slightly at the way his cheeks tint pink, continuing, “Like I said, you don’t have to answer. I’m just curious.”

“No it’s okay, you deserve to know,” you quickly tell him, shyly adding the last part before turning back to look at the meadows in front of you. “Since you’re like, actually my boyfriend now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wonwoo,” you breath out with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, sorry just tell me.”

“Kei’s father and I dated in high school and college, but it was mostly on and off. It was weird. He was kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Wonwoo asks, raising a brow.

“We just didn’t match. Would get into arguments and break up over stupid shit and get back together for god-knows-why,” you explain, reaching for one of Wonwoo’s hands to play with as you recount the story. He lets his hand relax as you run the pads of your fingers over his palm, tracing them over the lines absentmindedly as you recount.

It’s a story that you haven’t often had to tell—you haven’t had anyone to tell—and the words feel odd on your tongue. The story of you and Seojun—no, actually, it’s the story of you and Kei—is one that you’ve mauled over in your mind for the past five years, spending endless tears to the point where even if you wanted to cry right now, you wouldn’t be able to.

“What’s this guy’s name by the way?” Wonwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Why do you wanna know?” you ask teasingly. “Gonna kick his ass or something?”

“I might,” he responds playfully, suddenly holding your hand that’s playing with his, bringing it close to the warmth of his body.

“Seojun. I think me getting pregnant was his kind of reality check that he wasn’t meant to be, as ironic as that sounds. Probably realized that fatherhood wasn’t for him, and so I wasn’t either,” you chuckle to yourself, and for the first time in a while, you laughing at yourself isn’t bitter, it’s light-hearted.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo tells you sincerely, and you can tell when you look up at him that his eyes are searching for the right words to say. “That must have been hard—to go through that alone.”

“I managed. I had Jun helping me anyways.” There’s a silence, and you feel there’s more Wonwoo wants to ask, yet he’s holding his tongue. You realize now that this might be an awkward topic for him to ask about, and you squeeze his hand tightly in reassurance. “Is there anything else you want to know? I told you, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Wonwoo sighs, looking down at you with an expression that is more solemn than anything. “I don’t want to probe.”

“You’re not. I’d want to know too,” you clarify. “I’m not upset about this or anything. I got over it a long, long time ago, so this isn’t really like an uncomfortable topic for me. Honestly, I was never even upset about Seojun in the first place, I was just upset that Kei wouldn’t have a dad.”

“What does Kei know, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing really. I guess he’s kind of aware that most people have two parents,” you murmur. “He doesn’t ask any questions though, I’m not sure why.”

“Kei’s smart,” Wonwoo tells you, letting go of your hand to run it through your hair soothingly. “Both academically and emotionally. Maybe he just knows when and where he should ask certain questions.”

“He’ll have to know sooner or later. I’m guessing later it is,” you say, rubbing your eyes a little from having them open for too long. “I guess this just makes my job easier. I have more time to think about it.” A thought crosses your mind, and you look up at Wonwoo with wide eyes. “Why do you want to know all this? I don’t mind, I’m just curious.”

Wonwoo chews on his lip, and you take a mental image (fuck, he looks hot, but now isn’t the time for that), before he responds, “Well you know I’m serious about you,” he begins to explain, and right off the bat do you feel something bubble up in your stomach—butterflies. “I just wanted to know the situation with Kei, so I have an idea of where that places me, you know?” You can tell he’s trying to be casual about it but the slight waver in his voice gives away his anxiousness.

“Mhm,” you agree. “It’s confusing, for me too. I think we should just go with the flow. If you really want to know more though,” you say, tossing him a playful glance, “Seojun isn’t going to come back any time soon. Or ever, for that matter, so you don’t have much to worry about.”

“Not much…so there’s still stuff to worry about?” Wonwoo chuckles nervously.

“Well you still gotta get through Kei—he’s the toughest judge, you know?”

“Is that so?” Wonwoo murmurs. “I guess I’ll have to start picking favorites in class now.”

“What a biased teacher!” you gasp dramatically, pulling back from his hold to turn and face him. “I’ll have to report you to the principal!” You crawl into the spot in front of him and place your hands on his chest, pushing him lighty.

Wonwoo grins, circling his hands around your wrists in front of him before replying, “Can you seriously blame me? I’m pretty sure every teacher would have favorites if their students had moms as hot as you.”

Your face burns and you drop your head to his shoulder so Wonwoo can wrap his arms around your torso and pull you onto his lap. “Ugh, you got me there,” you murmur, pulling back and placing your hands on his shoulders before swooping down for a kiss.

It hardly takes more than ten seconds before his tongue is sliding into your mouth, your hips pushing down to meet Wonwoo’s pelvis in an erratic mess. He’s pulling back just as quickly as he dove in, and the feeling of his lips leaving yours makes your head go dizzy.

“While I do love this, I don’t like the idea of doing anything in the car again,” he says casually, putting some space between you two. You frown, but nod along.

“So…” your voice trails off and you’re giving him that look and Wonwoo thinks he might just go insane.

He sighs, pursing his lips into a smile. “So…I guess this just means I’ll have to take you to my place. Again,” he adds, referencing the first night you two spent together after the club. You grin at his words, scrambling off of him and quickly trying to grab the picnic blanket to put back into his car.

“What a shame,” you reply sarcastically as Wonwoo hops up too, the tent in his boxers being ever so prominent. You force yourself to tear away your lustful gaze on the sight and turn back to the car.

Wonwoo gives you a warning look. “You don’t want to?”

“N-no! I never said that,” you mumble, shoving the blanket into the back seat before slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo trails slowly behind you, getting into the spot next to you as he starts the engine.

He scoffs, backing into the road. “That’s what I thought.”

As soon as the door shuts behind you when you enter his apartment, Wonwoo is trapping your frame between him and the wall. Your back being pressed up against the wood has the air of your lungs forced out of you and into his mouth as he leans down for a fervent kiss. Whining, you wind your arms around his neck, pressing his lips even harder into yours.

Your tongues meet in a sloppy mess but somehow your uncoordinated movements mesh perfectly in a hot mix of saliva and desperation. This is what you’ve been waiting for, you think.

It’s hard not being able to touch him, kiss him, hold him whenever you want. It’s hard not being able to mark him as yours whenever you please. You know Wonwoo is yours, yes, but it’s hard to hold yourself back when you see him from the corner of your vision when you pick Kei up from school.

Desperate nights in the middle of the week where you stand in the shower, hot water running down your even hotter body, and shove a hand between your thighs as you try to mimic how Wonwoo’s fingers curl into you in all the right ways.

It never feels the same, never, but the mental image of Wonwoo when you’re between his legs, cock stuffed in your mouth, is enough to bring you to the edge. Only barely, of course, and the aftermath of your orgasm always has you leaning against the cool tile in shame and desire.

You couldn’t control yourself one night, calling Wonwoo up at the dangerously horny hour of 11 p.m., not really expecting him to pick up. When he did, you nearly jumped in ecstasy before the breath caught in your throat when he asked if everything’s okay in that sweet tone of his and—fuck—you’re really fucking desperate.

When you bashfully admitted that you were needy, that you were ‘thinkin’ ‘bout him,’ Wonwoo had asked you, ‘thinkin’ about what baby?’ to which you meekly confessed that you were in dire need to feel him, feel the stretch, feel his cock.

He chuckled, and that was your plunge into reality—realization that you fucking called Wonwoo when you were supposed to be asleep, nearly begging him to get you off some way, some how, confessing to him that he’s the only way you can have an orgasm that’s actually worthwhile. Realizing how insane you might have sounded, you almost hung up, but then there was Wonwoo talking and his voice was an octave lower and there were sparks flying through your body.

Wonwoo, all low and hoarse, was murmuring filthy words through the phone, demanded that you stick your pretty fingers in, and rub your clit like the good girl you are until his voice alone was throwing you off the edge. You spasmed around your fingers while Wonwoo worked you through on the other end, whispering praise and sweet nothings until epiphany hit and you started apologizing profusely to him for being needy.

That night, Wonwoo assured you that it was okay. That it was okay you were so needy you needed to beg him for his help to make you cum. That it was okay you couldn’t be patient for him like a good girl. Tonight, you aren’t sure how much of honesty was laced in those words, at least, not with the words he’s spilling into your ear now.

Pinning your hands above your head in a tight hold, Wonwoo mutters, “You’ve been wanting this, huh?”

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you gasp when he latches his mouth to your neck, sucking and biting until there are are deep red and purple marks that are bruising your skin. Swiping his tongue over the tinted skin, you feel every part of your body throbbing, aching under his touch.

“Thinkin’ about me in the night,” he continues, letting go of your hands so you can let them fall to his head, gripping tightly onto his hair. Wonwoo brings his own arms to your waist, hiking them up your shirt and looping them through your belt loops to yank down your shorts. You shuffle your feet out of the loose clothing, managing nothing more than a moan when he wedges a thigh between your legs.

The hard muscle flexes through the denim of his jeans, Wonwoo’s hands on your waist helping you grind your throbbing core down on him. “Wonwoo,” you choke out, grabbing aimlessly at his shirt, tugging, pulling—anything to get it out of the way. It’s the first time you two have done anything since your first date, and it’s been even longer since you’ve seen him shirtless, thinking back to your first fateful night together. You briefly ponder on how things have changed in only a matter of a few months since then, and the rush of it all has you feeling dizzy and your knees growing weak as you lazily rock your hips against Wonwoo’s thigh, watching him peel his shirt off.

You suck in a break when you catch sight of the valleys and mountains of his chest—the curves that hug him so well and the abs that trail below, causing your eyes to be directed at the filthy v-line which disappears under the waistband of his jeans. “Like what you see?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your chin and pushing you into a kiss as he slips one hand under your shirt. You choose to help him out when you pull away, quickly pulling the shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground.

“Of course I like what I see,” you say without a hint of shame, your words coming out in pants as you feel a low pleasure grow as Wonwoo starts to bounce his thigh slightly. You whine when he lets his thigh fall, feet hitting the ground as you swivel your body in hopes to chase the feeling, causing him to chuckle at you.

“Patience angel, you’ll get what you want soon enough,” he eases, pulling away from your body slightly.

You pout. “And how do you know what I want?” you retort, immediately regretting your bratty choice of words as Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you. He doesn’t say anything as he sinks to his knees in front of you, watching you give him a confused look.

Tapping on one of your thighs, you lift it slightly only for Wonwoo to grab it and throw it over his shoulder, the realization that his face is dangerously close to your cunt finally sinking in. “Huh…” he breaths out, bringing his lips close to your soiled panties. “You don’t want this then?” he murmurs, not breaking eye contact with you throughout.

“N-n-no, I do,” you say hurriedly, shifting your position slightly so that you can balance yourself better against the wall. Your other leg has its heel pressed into Wonwoo’s back, and if it’s hurting him, he doesn’t say a thing. All either of you can really focus on right now is the smell of your arousal intoxicating Wonwoo’s system, and the intense gaze of his eyes on yours.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, and you press your eyes tight because you feel you might cum at the sight alone.

“Wonwoo, fuck—ple—”

Wonwoo shuts you up real tight when he licks a hot stripe over your panties, and you cry out his name from the unexpected pleasure. Fingers flying down, you grip on his hair tight, causing him to groan into your clothed cunt.

“Easy, angel,” he warns, but you can tell he doesn’t really care. Not when he only rewards your behavior by sliding the soaked fabric aside, revealing your slick folds to the cool air around you. “Holy shit, you’re dripping,” Wonwoo mutters, and your ears burn at the comment.

“D-don’t stare,” you mutter out, breaking your eyes away from Wonwoo under you, the scene causing your entire body to heat up.

“Can’t help it. So pretty,” he tells you, bringing one hand up to rub against the folds. “Can’t believe this is all it takes to make you a mess…” “Wonwoo—”

He continues, “Just lettin’ you fuck yourself on my thigh for a minute and you’re already so ready for me…”

“Shit—”

Wonwoo looks up at you with dreamy eyes. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“God yes.”

Wonwoo smothers himself in your folds as soon as the words of confirmation leave your lips, and the rush is so strong you’re in awe at how you don’t fall. Tangling your fingers in his hair once more, you let yourself grind down onto his face as his tongue digs through your wetness, tasting—exploring.

He goes back and forth, taking a few moments to let his tongue run through your folds before moving his mouth up and wrapping his lips around your clit. He throws out some flicks of his tongue and then sucks hard, causing you to slam your hand over your mouth to prevent any one of his neighbors from hearing such ungodly sounds.

“Don’t do that,” Wonwoo growls, halting his work on you to glare up at you.

“Sorry,” you squeak out, letting your hand fall to your side as you chew on your lip at the sight of his lips and chin all glossy and wet from your wetness.“Angel,” he mumbles before diving back and bringing his own hand up to rub against your hole. He teases for a few moments before catching the way your voice wavers when you beg for more, deciding to plunge in two fingers at once. He’s knuckles deep from the get-go, giving you hardly a moment to adjust to the overwhelming amount of pleasure before he’s easing them in and out of your tight cunt.

Between the thrusts of his hand, he’s curling his fingers against your walls just as he did a few weeks ago in his car—it's been so long since then that if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure, you’d be amazed at how he still remembers just what gets you to your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

“Wonwoo—fuck,” you moan when he sucks against your clit while finger fucking you mercilessly. “K-keep doing that—’m gonna cum—fuck, gonna cum!” you cry out in shock as you feel your belly tighten up when he’s hitting that one spot inside of you that has your knees buckling.

Wonwoo only hums against your clit but that’s enough—with the vibrations and his warm tongue and his fat fingers, you’re writhing against the wall as he rides you through the orgasm that you’ve been aching for for weeks.

Coming down from your much awaited high, Wonwoo slowly slips out his fingers out of you, and you finally notice the way your arousal not only coats his hand, but drips down into a filthing fucking mess all over his forearms. Slightly appalled with how dirty this all is, you lift your hands from his hair as he starts to stand up, bringing them to cover your face.

“What the fuck,” you murmur with a hoarse voice, only releasing your own cheeks when Wonwoo forcefully grabs your wrists and yanks them down.

“Stop,” he instructs, before cupping your cheeks himself and kissing you deeply so you can taste your wetness on his tongue. “That was hot,” he says casually as your eyes rake over his body, finally landing on the bulge that pressed against your stomach.

“Felt so good…” you praise, hands ghosting over the imprint of his cock over his jeans, drinking in the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “Can I repay the favor?” Wonwoo watches you intently for a few moments and then shakes his head, causing a frown to make its way onto your face.

“Wanna fuck you,” he clarifies, and the crude choice of words has your cunt clenching and gushing once more. “So where do you want it…” Wonwoo asks before listing his offers, “bed, couch, counter…?”

Your vision trails over his apartment that you haven't ever really had the chance to look at properly at his place. You aren't really keen on doing any inspecting now though, especially now that an interesting thought comes to mind. “Can we…can we do it here?”

Wonwoo looks at you like he just fell in love at this moment, and in his head, he thinks he might have just  done exactly that. “You're insane,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and shoving his boxers and jeans down in one go. His cock springs free, and you can’t control the way you instantly grab out for him, fingers scooping out the leaked precum as it swipes over the tip. He curses lowly under his breath, grabbing one of your legs to hook it around his toned torso.

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pull him down for a sweet kiss as he slides his fat cock through your folds as a way to lube himself up in your slick. “You’re insane,” you finally shoot back, lifting yourself on your tippy toes so it’s easier for Wonwoo to line himself up with your entrance.

He’s pausing with his tip barley inside you, reading your face. “You ready?” When you nod up at him with thick lashes, you certainly aren’t expecting him to pull you down onto him, and you’re even further shocked out how he pushes up into you simultaneously, his cock filling you up balls deep in one go.

“Wonwoo!” you cry out, head thrown back as it hits the wall. The pain on the crown of your head is dull, but the stretch you feel from your cunt overtakes anything else you might be able to feel in your body. Your thighs tremble as Wonwoo stills, his rough fingers rubbing gentle circles onto your waist and ass as peers down at you, allowing your pussy to relax around him.

He’s big. He’s big and his cock is fat and the tip is already kissing your cervix yet the pain is addicting and you want—you need more. “Wonwoo,” you repeat, looking up at him with big doe eyes that have his insides churning in fondness. “More…can you give me more…please?”

Wonwoo grips your waist tightly, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Angel—”

“You said you wanted to fuck me, Wonwoo, right?” you plead needily, weakly moving your hips towards his to chase the feeling on your own. He stops you, gripping your hips so tight there’ll probably be bruises the next morning.

“So needy,” he grunts, and you think he might just get irritated with you but then he’s pulling his hips back and before you know it, his cock is ramming back into you. Back arching off the wall, your jaw goes slack and you can’t even find the voice to say a thing.

Each time Wonwoo slams back into you after a painfully slow drag of his cock, he punctuates the slap of skin against skin with a deep, guttural groan and low mutters of your name and angel, whispering broken sentences about how good you feel and how you’re squeezin’ him so good.

Your body throttles against the wall with each snap of his hips, and if you were in your right mind, you honestly would have complained about the faint pain. The thing is though, that you aren’t in you’re right mind.

You aren’t thinking clearly, and it’s because Wonwoo has successfully fucked you dumb. So dumb you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t complain, can’t think anything but Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo.

“God, making a mess on my dick, huh angel?” Wonwoo coos as his thrusts become more sporadic. You’re clenching him so incredibly thigh, warm and gummy walls hugging him so incredibly tight that he thinks it’s a miracle he hasn’t cum yet.

The only noise echoing through his apartment is the squelching of juices that mixes where his cock meets your cunt, skin slapping against skin, and soft pants for hair, until finally you’re tightening your hold around him, moaning, “Wonwoo fuck—I can’t—fuck—feels too good.”

“God, fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking tight—squeezing me like a vise,” Wonwoo moans into your ear. “Finest fucking pussy, I swear,” and the words are so filthy yet so sweet that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into his back.

“Wonwoo,” you intend to cry out, but the syllables fall just short of a whisper when he pulls you down and rams his cock up into you so hard it’s punching the air out of your lungs. Bringing his hand down, Wonwoo roughly rubs at your clit as he stills himself inside of you while rocking yourself against him, twitching at all the stimulation that’s being thrown your way.

You cum, and you just know that this has been the best orgasm of your life. Pleasure hits you like a truck and you’re left almost crying, your entire body shaking against Wonwoo’s who bites down on his bottom lip so hard it nearly draws blood.

Feeling you cum around him, your wetness coating his thighs and pelvis, as you whine out his name in your moment of heightened pleasure, intimacy, vulnerability has Wonwoo’s vision going foggy and heart growing in his chest. The second he senses your orgasm has finally withered away, he’s pulling out and fervently jerking himself off as you stand limply, the only thing holding you up being the force of Wonwoo’s body pinning you to the wall.

But now, you’re both exhausted and your leg around him loosens so you fall to your knees. Your face landing right in front of his pretty tip, and you focus your hazy vision on the full length of his cock. With your position from before, you couldn’t really look at it without craning your neck at an unnatural angel but now…

Now you can see his dick up close and in all its glory while simultaneously watching Wonwoo fall apart in front of you. Bringing up a hand to help him out, you wrap it around the base of his cock and massage his balls with the other hand as you lift yourself on your knees and open your mouth wide, not once breaking eye contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wonwoo grunts one last time with a few sloppy flicks of his wrist and then his eyes are shut tight, eyebrows pinched together as hot white ropes paint your face. Some lands on your tongue, some on your cheek, some on your chin, and you lap up what you can as you watch Wonwoo ride out his own orgasm with a few last pumps of his cock.

When he finally opens his eyes, he’s met with the sight of you running your tongue over your lower lip to scoop up his cum, and he feels he might get hard just again by watching you. Taking a deep breath, he steps back, holding out an arm for you. Reaching up, you’re taken aback by how frail you feel when he pulls you up and you stumble into his arms, an ache beginning to take its spot in your lower body.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo finally speaks when he hears you let out a small gasp of pain. He’s walking slowly, leading you in his arms to a room which you now recall as his bedroom. Wonwoo pushes you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, the tall man flopping on top of you.

“Mhm,” you finally respond, letting him roll over or lay beside you. “A little bit sore,” you add, and you hit his bicep when you hear him trying to muffle a laugh. “Is my pain funny to you,” you grumble.

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning to face you. “Of course not,” he tells you, but the smug smile on his face doesn’t match with his words. You narrow your eyes, and he continues, “Okay. Maybe it makes me a little happy.”

“My pain makes you happy?!”

“It just means my dick game is great!” You huff, turning away, and Wonwoo laughs, spooning you from behind before saying, “Okay I’m joking. Are you in a lot of pain?” He presses kisses into your shoulder, light and feathery as he awaits your response,

“Not a lot…” you murmur, scooting your body closer to his. “Feels kinda good…” you admit, and you damn near feel him smile into your skin at that comment.

“You sure? Anything you want me to do?” Wonwoo asks sincerely. Turning over to face him you purse your lips.

“Buy me cake before dropping me off?” you suggest, before thoughtfully adding, “and extra cuddles?”

Wonwoo grins, kissing you sweetly. “Cake and cuddles it is.”

Which is how you end up getting dropped off at your house two hours later with cupcakes in your hands for Jun and Kai. Helping Kai sit down at the table to serve him the dessert, you catch Jun giving you a funny look.

“Why’re you walking like that?”

Your face burns and you avert your gaze quickly and then Jun is laughing, picking up his phone and texting someone. “Who are you texting?” you demand, walking up to him in an attempt to grab his phone. He pulls it away quickly, dangling it above your head.

“No one,” he says in a sing-song voice.

“Liar.”

“It’s just Hao.”

“What’re you telling him?!” you nearly shriek before lowering your voice, looking back at Kei who is still happily eating his cupcake.

“I’m just telling him Wonwoo’s date went well! He was curious.”

“How’d he know?!”

“I told him, of course,” Jun deadpans. You roll your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Well did I lie?”

You glare at Jun before biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. Because as much as you’d like to strangle Jun right now, he in fact, did not lie, and the way you giddily text Wonwoo, ‘i had fun,’ tonight when you go to bed is testament to that fact.

a/n: im sorry i had to rush the ending idk i am not super happy but .... :/ the next update might take just around the same amount of time because i have a lot going on right now, but i hope you all enjoyed what ive written so far :c please like and comment and reblog, they literally make me so happy! anyways, i hope you enjoyed and please have a nice day &lt;3

[gracie-rosee]

Empyrean Clothing

If I could borrow a minute of your time. I promise it’s worth it :)

I took it upon myself to put this together, since I really enjoy the detailed world Rebecca Yarros has laid out for us. Plus, as an artist it’s good to have solid references. And a lot of these are somewhat book accurate to the descriptions of some clothing and styles I can recall.

It bugs me when people see a fantasy world and immediately think: corsets, tight leather, sexy dresses, ball gowns, billowing capes, and eight million buckles. So here’s how I see the clothing in this series.

Let’s start with the War college and flight leathers:

I don’t think their uniform resembles any kind of prep school/academy uniform whatsoever. Their uniforms are quite literally flight uniforms. So, I take a lot of inspiration from real life flight jumpsuits you would see from pilots and astronauts. Simple enough for daily wearing to classes, yet durable and efficient for flight maneuvers and lessons. Leathers are worn on top of uniforms.

Have any of you ever tried to do a simple cartwheel in a waist-snatching leather corset with cutouts in all the weird places? I doubt there would be much range and ease of mobility. Leather is great for flying, but they’re also fighting, too.

Flying also requires high altitudes and extremely cold weather and wind. I imagine one would wear clothing to cover their neck and face while in flight, in addition to goggles. (Seriously, where did the goggles go in the fanart/fanfics I’m seeing?) Practicality over aesthetics.

Other necessities would be gloves. Being able to grip your dragon and wield weapons is a must.

For more casual, everyday clothing:

Lots of sweaters. Buttons rather than zippers. More casual, yet always always so practical in a way that you could jump into flight or channel a signet that requires physical exertion. Complete and total range of movement would be required. From what we’ve seen, it’s a cooler climate, not just during the winter, and everybody works. There was two instances I can recall where someone wore something other than pants and that was Violet’s skirt for Reunification Day and her dress later on in book 2.

Even Scribe robes are very practical and efficient:

And now for my favorite.

High ranking officials, nobles, and royalty:

I often think of Liam and Xaden’s family. High ranking officials, wealthy families, and powerful signet wielders would have more flaunting style. To show their signet, to show their wealth, status, or position. And yet, and YET! Still practical. You could jump onto the back of a dragon at any time. The extravagance would often lie in the details. Hand crafted embroidery, or Deverelli silk sashes. Almost no jewelry would be worn, but I think expression could be shown in extravagant hair colors and makeup styles.

Again, while I did reference the book for most of this, the rest is my interpretation of what I think fits the series the best. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk!

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃How EXO acts around their crush❃

a/n: This is 10000% just for my own pleasure. I may have had this in my drafts for weeks... I am totally okay with all the Kyungsoo solo content and EXO ladder dropping. Totally. Super functional, delusional who?

ALSO to any EXO-L that are sharing Chen's LEAKED wedding photos. Please be respectful and either delete them or, at the very least, blur out his wife's face. Chen has gone to great lengths to safeguard her privacy, as she is not famous nor wants to be in the spotlight. Not to mention that there could be crazy sasaengs out there with ill intent. Sharing her info is basically doxing, and it is insane to me how many people shared these posts without much thought. Anyway, I needed to share my frustrations.

Xiumin/Minseok:

✾ He is a lot shyer than the other members; where most of EXO probably feels comfortable enough to act on their crushes, he is a bit more reserved. He wants to test the waters first, ascertaining whether the feeling is mutual. Whenever you are around and are talking to other people, he sits back silently, observing your reactions.

✾ Xiumin is smiling so widely around you that the other members worry that his muscles might start cramping up soon. The moment he sees you, his bubbly personality starts to really shine through, and sometimes you can't help but wonder whether this man truly is 33.

✾ That being said, from the moment that anyone offers Xiumin a couple of drinks, his confidence spikes, and he will start flirting with you. His flirting is still extremely sweet and cute; Xiumin can be incredibly charming when he wants to be.

Suho/Junmyeon

✾ He is such a gentleman around you, trying to make you feel at ease with his kind gestures. Whether it is him pulling back a chair or opening a door for you, he will do anything to make you feel like a princess.

✾ Being one of EXO's proud black card owners, he will casually buy you whatever you need. He keeps repeating that he wants to treat his friends when you try to interject. You can't completely refute it; he does spend a lot of money on the members. Yet, you can't help but feel like his gifts are slightly too expensive and excessive for 'just friends'.

✾ So. Many. Soft. Glances. Suho looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars; you catch him staring at you almost every time you look over. Conversations with him can, therefore, be a tad awkward. He doesn't always register what you are saying; he is so absorbed in watching you that he forgets to listen.

✾ The other members relentlessly tease him for it. If you don't catch on based on Suho's actions, you will definitely catch on due to his members' relentless teasing. Whenever he does anything remotely romantic around you, their faces light up like Christmas came early. The members are not subtle about it whatsoever, thoroughly enjoying putting their leader in a slightly uncomfortable position.

Baekhyun:

✾ The members didn't think it was possible, but Baekhyun somehow became louder. It is as if he wants to draw your attention simply by screaming, as he no longer has any volume control when you are around. Everyone can hear your conversation from across the room, and his laughter becomes borderline obnoxious as it overpowers any other sound.

✾ He is such a tease and a suggestive one at that. Considering he has no problem revealing intimate, not suitable to be aired on national TV, details about the members' bodies, he won't have any trouble suggestively flirting with you. Where Xiumin's pick-up lines are cute, Baekhyun's are far from it. Give this man some holy water, Jesus.

✾ He is so intense with his flirting that it sometimes crosses the line of sexy to parody, coming off as a joke. Baekyhyun has a very flirty personality and isn't above flirting with his friends. Even though he isn't subtle about his crush, he can accidentally fall into the "he flirts with everyone" category, making you question whether he genuinely likes you or is just being friendly.

✾ He really enjoys the chase when it comes to relationships. Thus, it will take him quite some time before he asks you out, simply because he likes the push-and-pull game.

Chanyeol

✾ There is nothing subtle about Mr. Park Chanyeol. The moment he sees someone he wants to date, he is going for it full steam ahead. Puppy Chanyeol is momentarily retired as he makes his way over to you; Chanyeol knows that he is handsome and sexy, and he is ready to show it to you. I hope you weren't interested in anyone else because the moment you return any of his interest, he will be flirting with you like there is no tomorrow.

✾ Internally, he is so excited to be talking to you, and sometimes, you will see glimpses of his cute puppy-like persona, especially once he feels like you are just as interested. Still, the words coming out of this man's mouth, Jesus part two. Please go and ask Baekyhun to pass the holy water.

✾ That being said, he will get embarrassed when the other members are around or slightly bashful when you return his flirting at full force. I don't think Chanyeol is used to anyone sharing his level of intensity, so once you do, he gets a bit flustered. He absolutely loves it, though. Your compliments got him grinning from ear to ear.

D.O./Kyungsoo

✾ Don't get me wrong, I adore this man to a delusional extent, but he is absolutely hopeless when it comes to communicating with his crush. He won't go anywhere near you if he can't help it; he prefers looking at you from afar. He is someone who favours being approached first over approaching you himself. It isn't that he doesn't want to talk to you; he simply isn't the type of person to initiate contact with his crush and tends to stay back when he can tell that someone else is interested, too. 

✾ Even if he finds himself near you, don't expect him to have a full-blown conversation with you. He already tends to be a man of little words, but when it comes to you, he is a man of not a single word. Being around you is enough to make him happy; he doesn't really need to have a deep conversation. 

✾ Nevertheless, his actions make more than up for it. He is such a gentleman, being the definition of preferential treatment. You don't have a chair to sit on? He will quietly offer you his. Your sweater got caught on something? He will silently help you get it out. Although he may not say much to you, he communicates his feelings through his actions. 

Kai/Jongin

✾ If you think Xiumin or Kyungsoo are shy, you have not yet met Kai with a crush. He turns into absolute mush the moment he sees you, giggling and blushing whenever you do as much as breathing. You can't even see him because he has resorted to hiding behind the other members, preferably Sehun or Chanyeol, as they are tall enough to obscure him completely.

✾ If he somehow musters up the courage to talk to you, good luck having it go anywhere because he can barely make it through a sentence without giggling. It is obvious to everyone around him that he is smitten with you; his laughs are awkwardly loud, and his eyes are literally shooting hearts.

✾ The moment he manages to ask you to dance, his shy demeanour completely changes. His movement… His expressions… The way he is smirking at you… Maybe you should go and ask Chanyeol whether there is anything left of the holy water he borrowed from Baekyhun.

Sehun

✾ He has one of two ways of acting around his crush: either he acts super bratty or becomes painfully shy. It depends on whether he has met and talked to you before. But, if you are complete strangers, he would be so quiet, hiding in the furthest corner he can find.

✾ He will pester the members to go over and collect as much information as they can about you. They will do it because he will whine the entire night about it if they don't and, repeat with me, what Sehun wants, Sehun gets. The members try to convince Sehun to go talk to you himself, but Sehun stubbornly refuses. Bro will be playing the Maknae card harder than he ever has in his entire life.

✾ In the end, he will drag Suho with him, trying to 'casually' strike up a conversation with you. The small talk is painful, and in all honesty, Suho, with his dad jokes, isn't helping in the slightest. At the very least, it provides the two of you with a new conversational topic: the teasing of Suho.

masterlist

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We are heading into a bit of a quieter period for QL corner, with two shows ending now and another next week. At least we still have a true banger airing to sustain us through the drought. Smells Like Green Spirit is also now airing in Japan but has not yet been picked up for international distribution (pray for it to get to us soon). These shows are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Happy of the End

CWs: Blood and gore, child abandonment, child molestation, childhood sexual slavery, death, family rejection, heavy scarring, human trafficking, rape, sexual coercion and exploitation, suicidal ideation, suicide mention

This week was relatively lighter compared to last week's very rough episodes, but still so laced with sadness even in its happy moments. Haoren mourned his mother, and finally admitted to himself, and to Chihiro, that she was never protecting him. The show dug deeper into how this bond between them is giving them both a reason to shake off their apathy about survival, though that is definitely touch and go for both of them. The way Haoren experienced a few moments of happiness and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he would like to die now because he'll never top this feeling was telling, as was Chihiro casually laying down in the street and not moving until Haoren dragged him away. They don't have any real hope for a better life, but they each seem more invested in the other's survival than their own, and that is giving them something to cling to. It was nice to see them have some moments of trust and connection between them, and for Haoren to finally feel safe enough to strip himself bare, physically and emotionally. I'm bracing for a rough final week, with Haoren's former enslaver coming after Chihiro in a bid to destroy the source of Haoren's new happiness. I don't really know what to hope for in terms of an ending for these characters; I just hope the show can leave us with the sense that their relationship mattered and gave them something they can each hold onto.

Love is Like a Poison

This episode had me screaming with laughter and delight. Haruto can read his Ryo-kun like a book, and Shiba can't seem to figure out which way is up. I don't even want to describe all the hilarious gags and sexy tension and extremely unsubtle metaphors in this episode; I don't want to ruin it for anyone. Go watch!

Chaser Game W 2

Of all the great JQL we've gotten in the last year, why this one got picked up for a second season I could not tell you. I was less than impressed with season 1, and I don't have high hopes this next go round will be any better. Especially after watching the first ep of this new season, in which they unceremoniously undid the ending of the last in a laughably silly way only to introduce a new, more annoying conflict. They could have made something of a story about Fuyu trying to work out a way to manage her family life to be with Itsuki, but they'd rather hand wave that away via gay penguins in favor of a new love triangle. Whatever, show. Here we go again, I guess! I’ll be watching this one mostly to support the ratings.

Tagging @bengiyo to do our last anime update for the next little while, as Twilight Out of Focus has officially ended its run and there is no new animated ql on the horizon.

[beautifulfuckup99]

Girlllllllll I just love yooouuuu

Can we get a Yoongi smut where he is older than the reader and that makes him protective, possessive yet obsessed boyfriend.

i cant get enough of this man 🥵🥵🥵

Yes, ma'am!

Title: Bored.

Warning(s): Age-Gap Relationship, Dom!Yoongi, Sugar Zaddy!Suga (lol), Daddy K!nk, Age-P!ay (Nothing too weird lol)

Author's Note: Age gap is gonna be 10 years, and this is a ;Non-Idol!AU', But it IS a 'Rich!bfYoongi' fic. So enjoy!

********************************

Knock Knock

Yoongi sighs deeply as he looks up from the huge amount of paperwork that he needed to go through before Monday's big meeting. "Yeah?" He calls out and the door opens slowly to reveal his beautiful girlfriend of about a year and a half now. He pauses and leans back in his chair as he eyes his college-aged sweetheart. "Y/N Y/L/N. To what do I owe this visit?" He teases a bit and Y/N smiles shyly.

"Hi, baby!" Y/N sings as she bounces into the room wearing the blue, thinned-strapped, sundress Yoongi had gotten shipped out from Italy for their one-month anniversary. Yoongi lets his eyes wonder her outfit and hair that clearly had just gotten done up.

Looking at Yoongi and Y/N, you'd think this was a simple "sugar baby" situation, but the two were actually extremely content in their relationship. And they had met in probably one of the most random ways ever.

They had the same coffee order.

Yoongi loved to go back on the memory because it was just so random, yet Y/N swore it was something you only read about in a fucking Nicolas Sparks' book.

Story was simple: Yoongi had recently gotten in touch with a client who wanted to meet at the new Starbucks that had opened up a few blocks from some random college campus, the same campus Y/N was attending. Yoongi, being head of the company, knew that they couldn't lose this deal, so he went early to snatch a table and order the coffees for him and the man he was meeting with. The girl in front of him in the line smelled of vanilla, and she was wearing the sexiest outfit Yoongi had ever seen. She caught his eye the second he walked in.

Now, pause.

Because Y/N always laughs when Yoongi makes that part of the story known when telling it to strangers that ask. Mostly because the "sexy" outfit Yoongi spoke so highly of was just a pair of black sweatpants and a dark blue tank top. She'd rolled out of bed and dragged her half-asleep self down to the coffee shop for a wakeup call in a cup. But according to Yoongi, Y/N just wore those sweats and that tank top in such a... "Confident way".

So anyway.

As Yoongi was on the phone with the client he'd be meeting with, he hears the name of the coffee he'd ordered. Only, both he and Y/N walked over to grab the drink at the same time. That is when they actually noticed each other.

Y/N had giggled bashfully and put her hand down, giving Yoongi a shy apology since she hadn't checked the name before going for the cup, but Yoongi only smiled at the girl standing in front of him, assuring her that the coffee was all hers. He knew right then and there; he loved the back and front of this girl. Which doesn't usually happen...

Yoongi introduced himself, and Y/N did the same before walking off to a corner of the coffee shop after assuring again that she could wait for her order. The fact that she'd seen the Rolex, seen the suit, seen the all black American Express card he'd pulled out to offer to pay for a bakery item for her, and she still politely declined and walked away? That held Yoongi's attention more than any girl had in years. After a while of waiting at the counter, a worker put down another cup of coffee and Yoongi noticed the name on it.

This was her order...

That's when he got the idea...

After making sure no one was watching, he grabbed a pen from his suit pocket, and wrote down a small message along with his number before putting it back on the countertop casually. Just as he'd hoped, another worker came by, saw the cup and called out the name of the person to come and take their coffee. He saw Y/N walk over and grab her cup as his client walked in, walking over to greet him.

He noticed from over the man's shoulder how Y/N moved the cup around to look at all of the Christmas designs on it before choking on her sip. She looked around the coffee shop and Yoongi tried to stiffen his laughter as her eyes went to each and every person in the room before they locked with his.

'You?' He remembers Y/N mouthing to him, and Yoongi gave a smirk before turning all attention back to his meeting. The two talked through phone calls and text messages after that, and when Y/N was on Christmas break from college, Yoongi surprised her with tickets to Paris. While out there for those two weeks, Y/N and Yoongi made love every night. When they weren't doing that, he was taking Y/N shopping, always loving her in clothes he'd bought her. Made him feel better about ripping them off later.

"I missed you today..." Y/N says shyly and Yoongi smirks knowingly.

At the beginning of their time together, Yoongi had learned something about Y/N that really turned him on. Y/N was into something that not a lot of people would understand, but Yoongi definitely tried to. See, Y/N was into a sort of age play kink. It didn't go too far, but basically, she loved to be taken care of. She even called Yoongi 'Daddy' out of the bedroom at times because to her, Yoongi was the dominate one in their relationship. And Yoongi wouldn't have it any other way...

Yoongi had done research and realized that people like Y/N actually existed. Now, as stated before, Y/N wasn't too hardcore with the kink. She didn't wear adult diapers or crawl around on the floor, or wear onesie pajamas. She did, however, own a one-piece pajama with Yoongi, but that was a different story. Y/N just seemed to submit very easily to Yoongi though.

"Did you really miss me, baby?" Yoongi asks softly as he watches his girlfriend change her balance from one foot to the other.

"Are you busy?" Y/N asks gently, not really answering Yoongi's question. He takes note of that...

"Depends. What do you want, baby girl?" Yoongi asks as he takes off his reading glasses and rubs his eyes before putting them back on. A blush forms on Y/N's cheeks from the nickname.

"I finished classes earlier today because of some weather alert. I'm all bored..." Y/N says with a sigh as she sits down on the chair that was set on the other side of Yoongi's desk in his home office. Yoongi looks out the floor-to-ceiling window and pauses when he's met with the sight of a grey sky and heavy rain. How long had he been on autopilot?

"Huh. Will you look at that..." He mutters to himself, and Y/N rolls her eyes at his dad behavior. "Well, did you do all of your assignments?" Yoongi asks as he picks up a piece of paper to start reading from again. Y/N eyes her "old man" for a boyfriend with humor in her eyes.

"Yes, daddy." Y/N mutters but pauses when Yoongi doesn't look up at the nickname. It makes her feel slightly sad that he wasn't giving her attention.

"Well, then, make yourself at home, baby. Go watch some TV." Yoongi suggests and Y/N stiffens a groan.

"I don't think there's anything on right now, daddy." Y/N states certainly, causing Yoongi to finally look up at her from the piece of paper in his hands. He sighs and puts the paper down on the desk along with his reading glasses.

"So, you're bored..." Yoongi begins, as if trying to help Y/N out with her problem. Y/N nods her head quickly. "And what do you want me to do about that, baby?" Yoongi asks as he leans back in his chair again.

"Mm..." Y/N hums as she thinks about it. "Let's go on an adventure!" She finally says, tone full of excitement.

Yoongi chuckles at his little fireball, always wanting to travel to different places, see different things. "I can't right now. We're going somewhere Monday baby, after my meeting, remember?" He asks casually.

"Yeah..." Y/N sighs in disappointment. "But... Can't we just go today?" She asks, hope laced in her voice.

Yoongi had promised Y/N a trip to Brazil for her spring break, but then he had to call an important meeting for Monday to discuss some "important business thing", Y/N wasn't really listening when Yoongi was telling her about it...

"No, Y/N. I have to attend this meeting. I don't want to hear any more about it, or we won't go, ok?" Yoongi warns, already stressed with trying to figure out this month's company budget.

"But daddy, I-" Yoongi cuts Y/N off.

"What did I just say?" He asks in a stronger tone, getting annoyed that Y/N wanted to bother him about some trip, but even more annoyed about all of this paperwork showing up on his desk first thing this morning because of his idiot of a secretary who forgot to give it to him last week. Yoongi was just stressed out, and Y/N was not helping.

Y/N sets her jaw tight, knowing not to argue back, but Yoongi was acting so dismissive, and she'd been dealing with a lot too. Finals, big projects, constant studying and she was beginning to feel burned out. "Whatever. Maybe Adam isn't as busy..." Y/N finally mutters as she stands up. This catches Yoongi's attention.

"Who?" He asks. It's not that he had misheard her, he was just giving her a chance to get out of what she just said. Adam was Y/N's ex-boyfriend, but still a 'good friend' of hers, according to what she'd told Yoongi. They'd still hang out whenever Yoongi was too busy for Y/N, much to his dismay.

"I said... Maybe Adam isn't busy. Since it's clear you want me to leave you alone." Y/N says with a bit of an attitude, her eyes looking Yoongi up and down.

"Y/N." Yoongi warns, unamused by her bratty behavior. "You can stay right here." He says.

"Oh? And watch you stare at a piece of paper? I wanna go out!" Y/N huffs as she stomps her foot instinctively.

Yoongi stares at the 22-year-old girl in front of him, stomping her foot due to not getting what she wants. "Are... You have to be fucking with me. You are acting like the most spoiled brat I have ever met!" He growls.

"Please. Like it isn't your fault." Y/N mutters, arms crossed.

"What was that?" Yoongi asks. In a way, Y/N wasn't lying. Yoongi spent their whole first few months together spoiling Y/N. Taking her to different places, buying her only the best, introducing her to different important people. And Y/N would, obviously, throw a fit whenever he'd do these grand gestures for her, or her friends, or even her family a few times, but Yoongi always ignored her rants on how she didn't need that new diamond necklace, or that nice looking car, or that custom made gown for a high-end dinner date.

"I said... It's your fault." Y/N repeats, staring at Yoongi in a challenging way, making him sit back in his chair, eyeing her in the same manner.

"Listen to me, Y/N. And listen closely. You are going to sit your ass down in that seat, and if I hear one more word out of you..." Yoongi trails off in a threatening tone, making Y/N roll her eyes and sit back in her seat with a soft huff.

And it's finally silent.

Y/N stares at her hands in her lap as she replays Yoongi's words over and over again in her head. And who the hell was he to challenge her!? It was her mouth! Her voice! She didn't need to listen to that grouchy old man. A sly smirk comes on to her face at that thought. Yeah. He was a cranky, old, boring man. What would he do? Excitement rushed through Y/N's body at the thought.

"One. More. Word." Y/N finally says slowly, and Yoongi is quick to throw the packet that was in his hand down on to the desk with a glare.

"You think you're so funny, don't you." Yoongi says as he pushes his chair back from the desk. "Over my knee now." He orders, and Y/N smiles brightly.

"Finally! Something to do!" She taunts as she makes her way over to Yoongi, who looks about ready to lose it at this point.

"Something to do, huh?" Yoongi mutters as he reaches out when Y/N is close enough and grabs her arm, yanking her to bend over his lap. Y/N takes note of the nice-looking black slacks Yoongi was wearing with a red wine-colored polo shirt tucked in. His black hair was slicked back, and he just smelled of power and success. Actually, that was Boy Chanel, but still...

"You think getting me all worked up like this is 'something to do'?" Yoongi growls before flipping up her dress and firmly rubbing her ass, feeling the flimsy lace under his palm. Y/N pants softly at the feeling, bracing herself when his hand slips away only to come right back down, slapping just under Y/N's left butt cheek, making her whimper softly. Yoongi rubs that spot he just slapped before doing it again on the other ass cheek, harder this time.

"Oh! D-Daddy..." Y/N whimpers a bit louder, as if trying to draw out some pity from her boyfriend.

"Oh no you don't..." Yoongi smirks. "Don't try and act all innocent now." He says tauntingly, and Y/N can feel herself soaking through her pair of red lacy boy shorts at the tone of voice her daddy was using with her.

Yoongi smacks Y/N's thighs a few more times before hitching the sundress up a little more to look at her ass, groaning at the sight of her underwear snuggled between her plump ass. "Fuck, I'm gonna make your ass the same color as those pretty little undies, baby girl..." Yoongi whispers as he lifts his hand again, but this time, he waits for a response from Y/N.

"Daddy... Daddy... Please." Y/N whins as a response, and that does it for Yoongi. Y/N yelps, and her body basically jerks from how hard the smack to her ass is.

"Beg for more." Yoongi orders, and Y/N moans more at the thought of begging for pain.

"M-More... Please, daddy. More! Give me more! I-I swear I'll be your good girl again..." Y/N pleads, moaning when another slap is delivered to her plump ass cheek. "Oh god, daddy..." Y/N gasps.

"What do you want, baby girl?" Yoongi whispers, wanting to hear his slut of a girlfriend say the words.

"Daddy..." She tries, shyly, but Yoongi knows it's all a show. When Y/N is horny, there's no room for shyness. "Oh, daddy. P-Please make me feel good. It aches." She pouts, and Yoongi smirks.

"Stand up, baby. Bend over my desk." Yoongi says, and Y/N is quick to follow orders. "Now." Yoongi begins when Y/N is bent over his desk, shaking eagerly. He stands up and moves behind her to grip her hips hard. "What do you say to daddy for acting like a brat?" He whispers as he presses against her crutch.

She moans at the pressure on her clit, knowing better than to move her hips though. "I-I'm sorry, daddy..." Y/N pants, the side of her face pressed against the cold wooden desk.

"Sorry for what, baby girl?" Yoongi asks as he lets his hands run up and down the sides of Y/N's body. Staying still against her, and it was torture for him too. Mostly because he could feel her juices leaking through her thin underwear and wetting his pants too.

"I-I'm sorry for being such a bad girl, daddy." Y/N whispers as she moves ever so slightly so the apparent bulge is harder against her clit, making Yoongi smack her ass again. The sting felt so good...

"Keep going." Yoongi orders as he pulls back to really spread her legs and see how wet she really was.

"Daddy..." Y/N says, as if embarrassed. Yoongi swats at her clit through her underwear and it makes her bundle of nerves throb harder. "Oh god! Daddy! I-I'm sorry! I-I'm... I acted like a... A spoiled brat." She whines.

"Mm... That's more like it. There's daddy's little girl." Yoongi teases before reaching a hand down to his secret drawer where he usually kept a few toys just in case he and Y/N ended up having a little bit of fun in his home office. He pulls out some black underwear and then tosses them in front of Y/N, on the desk.

"Take off those boy shorts, and sit on my desk, legs spread." Yoongi instructs, and Y/N was quick to follow orders. With her legs spread, and pussy on full display as she leans back on his desk, Y/N waits for Yoongi to do... Something. Anything. Feeling her desperation, Yoongi moves Y/N's legs, so her feet are planted on the desk, her knees bent, and legs spread wider.

"Mm..." Yoongi smirks, stepping back to admire his girl fully. "See what happens when you shut the hell up? You make daddy happy." Yoongi taunts as he reaches out and lazily rubs Y/N's throbbing clit with two fingers. "Always so wet for me." He mumbles to himself, making Y/N shiver softly. He then leans down, softly licking at her clit, tonguing it like a cat drinks milk.

"Mm... God... Daddy!" Y/N moans, trying to keep her hips down since Yoongi trained her better than that. She wanted to make him proud. Yoongi slowly slides his tongue into Y/N's pussy, loving the way her hole clenched around it as if trying to make it stay. He begins moving his tongue in and out slowly.

"Daddy, please!" Y/N whines and Yoongi can only smirk. What happened to his little brat? Melted away he actually showed her attention. She was just too adorable to ever stay mad at...

Moving his tongue faster, Yoongi also adds two of his fingers to rub at Y/N's clit. Y/N throws her head back as moans spill from her lips effortlessly, uncontrollably. She never had to fake it with this man. He knew her body like it was his. It was his. Yoongi can't help but chuckle at the desperate moans of his lover, and the vibrations of said chuckle shoot through Y/N like a firework.

"Fuck! Daddy! Oh, daddy! Please... Please! I'm so... So close, daddy!" Y/N pleads, and when he feels her body begin to tremble, Yoongi pulls away, making the girl sprawled out on the desk gasp. "Daddy!" Y/N shouts in anger. Yoongi growls slightly, grabbing Y/N by the back of her head and yanking her hair so she was forced to look up at the ceiling.

"Wanna try that again?" Yoongi whispers against Y/N's neck, and Y/N moans before shaking her head as much as she can with him still gripping her hair.

"I... I'm... S-Sorry, daddy." Y/N stumbles over her words as she speaks, and Yoongi wants to laugh at how easily she submits.

"Here." He says, handing the pair of underwear to Y/N who bites back a whine of frustration. She gets off the desk to put on the new underwear. "Now, sit." Yoongi continues, motioning to the chair on the other side of the desk where she'd once sat. Y/N huffs under her breath and walks over to the chair. As soon as she sits down, Yoongi grabs the remote that went with the underwear and presses the green button.

Y/N gasps and shoots up from the seat as her underwear begins to vibrate. "Oh no you don't. You will sit there, and every time you're close to cumming, you will tell me." Yoongi orders. As Y/N trembles where she stands. Her clit was already sensitive, and having a vibrator pressed against it wasn't helping much. Well, actually, it was dulling the ache a bit.

"A-And... I-If I don't?" Y/N asks breathlessly as she slowly sits back down.

"If I see you cum, your punishment will be more than just a few smacks. Do I make myself clear?" Yoongi asks, and Y/N quickly nods. "Good girl." He says as he fixes his hair and wipes the sides of his mouth before sitting back down at his desk, putting his glasses back on as well.

"For... H-How long?" Y/N whimpers out as she begins to move her hips with the vibration before catching herself. With a deep gulp she gives in to making her daddy proud. "D-Daddy... I-I'm close..." She shivers. Yoongi presses the red button on the remote and calmly takes this time to answer Y/N's question.

"For however long it'll take me to read all this goddamn paperwork." He states. "You may moan..." He says, making Y/N blush at him giving her permission to do a basic reaction. "It'll help make this whole thing more... Interesting for me. But you may not cum... That's for later." He continues before pressing the green button to turn it back on, making Y/N melt back in her seat.

"There are different levels on this thing. I think I should start you off on a... 5. What do you think?" Yoongi teases, and Y/N gasps, grabbing onto the arms of the chair as stronger vibrations rage against her throbbing clit.

"Oh! And tell me something baby girl..." Yoongi begins as he grabs the packet he'd been trying to read earlier.

"Mm..." Is all Y/N can master in reponse.

"Are you still bored?" Yoongi asks as Y/N throws her head back, a loud moan leaving her parted lips, making Yoongi lean back in his chair. "Guess not..." He chuckles to himself before going right back to reading.

[ikemenfanfiction]

Le Comte: Etiquette Tutor Roleplay

Ikemen Vampire Fanfiction Inspired by the Ikemen Vampire “Sexy White Day” event Masterlist Featuring: Le Comte De Saint Germain x Female Reader Disclaimer: Ikemen Vampire Characters are the property of Cybird Word Count: 2000 Warnings: NSFW sexual content “Sebastian?” You try calling to your friend one more time before the butler disappears, but to no avail. That sneaky historian could disappear faster—well faster than a vampire! He claimed Le Comte was willing to do a role-play with you. You’d drawn one of the slips of paper and he promptly left to inform Le Comte of your choice so he could “prepare?” Sebastian returned a few minutes later to fetch you to your host’s private study.

You had been inside Le Comte’s office plenty of times since your arrival here at the mansion. More often recently since the two of you became lovers. Yet, just now, you felt extremely anxious. Comte was always so accommodating and pleasant. It still threw you off when he would switch from his ardent-host mode to his private-time mode. A side of him that was no less alluring but which was considerably more passionate and personal. Even having experienced the more personal faucets of your lover you still felt unsure as to what you should expect. You had never seen him act out a part before… Finally, you took a deep breath and raised your hand to knock firmly on the door. “Please enter.” Comte’s deep voice called to you as he had so many times before. As you opened the door you couldn’t help but pause as your lover came into view. You took in the sight of the most beautiful man you had ever seen with meticulous attention wishing you could memorize every aspect of this beautiful figure. You may be a little biased because you were—undeniably—in love with him. Yet even the most casual observer would have to admit your ardent admiration wasn’t completely unfounded. Somehow the mixture of soft and warm golds that graced every part of his perfectly tailor suit, expensive shoes and even those inescapable eyes seemed to enfold the room in his warmth. Surrounded by hourglasses of all sorts this man, as timelessly beautiful as a painting, turned to smile at you. “Ah, _, are you ready for your lessons today?” His smile was as disarming as ever and you felt your heart warm beneath his gaze. “Yes, Maestro.” You curtsied. Something he had helped you perfect not long after your arrival at the mansion. “I understand you will be making your débute into society in only a few weeks. Let us be certain you are prepared.”

“No, my dearest, like this.” Comte catches your hand and turns it gently into the proper position. “Thank you, maestro. I would be remiss without you.” You don’t quite keep the disappointment out of your voice. After over and hour of meticulous instructions it feels as though Le Comte’s lessons still have no end in sight. Had Sebastian somehow included “Grueling” with the title etiquette-tutor when he explained this scenario to Comte? Or perhaps you were failing ridiculously? So much that Le Comte had not choice but to stretch out his lesson in and effort to actually make you presentable among the French Aristocracy? “Is something wrong, ma cherie?” Le Comte asked noting your expression. “Oh? Oh nothing, monsieur. I was simply considering your instructions.”

While you had learned a great deal from your alleged instructor you couldn’t help wishing you had instead spent the afternoon with your lover. The social nuances of nineteenth century France were still a bit foreign to you. Yet you had managed well enough the few times Comte had chosen to take you to social gatherings. Or so you had thought. At this point you weren’t certain whether your manners were suitable for a barn not to mention the aristocracy. Everything Le Comte did was so perfect and while he was gentle with his direction you were feeling more and more inadequate. “You have not learned your lesson… have you ?” The reproach in his tone caught you off guard and you looked up into those otherworldly golden eyes. When you do not reply he continues. “When you keep something from me, I always know.” Comte’s gloved hand caught your wrist drawing it up to his mouth placed a tender—surprisingly sensual—kiss there. When his eyes once again met yours they demanded a response and you scrambled to give one. “You have done a wonderful job as my instructor Comte. Thank you for enlightening me on so many things I can do better to fit in here.” You decide evasion of the topic is your best chance to avoid making this awkward. It wasn’t his fault he took the cosplay so literally. Nor was it his fault you were so terrible at following his instructions. “But…?” Comte asked releasing your hand but not your gaze. “Nothing. Just… thank you for teaching me so much. Anyway, I should go. I’m sure Sebastian will need my help with dinner—” You withdraw from him and head for the door to his office only to find yourself unable to open it. The sudden warmth at your back makes your heart pound. And as you glance up you see Comte’s hand place firmly against the door holding it closed. You hadn’t even heard him move yet there he was. Startlingly beautiful and so close it was difficult to breath. The golden sleeve of his coat was near enough to your cheek to discern every woven thread of the meticulously cared for attire. “Maestro?” You ask. “Your lessons are not yet complete _. There is also the matter of your choice to be untruthful.” You sigh turning to look up into those golden eyes you adore. The face you long to see filled with joy instead has a darkness—a loneliness even—that makes your heart sink. “Comte, I simply—” “The truth is what I asked for.” He interrupted. In his long life, Comte had understandably collected his own assortment of sad and dark moments. Memories that caused him pain and loneliness… for he had said goodbye to far too much. Given up far too much. Even his time with you seemed so fragile and brief that he had found it difficult to allow himself to express his love for you. You had tried to give him moments of peace during your times together. Times that would ease the lonely look you still saw in his eyes every now and then. While he rarely showed that side of himself to you… somehow you felt this moment was especially important to him. This was something he needed from you. “Yes, Comte. Just now I was wishing… well… I wanted to be with you today. I was thinking I wished you were acting as my lover this afternoon. Not my instructor. That I would miss even a moment with you—acting as yourself—made me feel sad. I didn’t mean to be untruthful about it… I just didn’t want you to feel I was disappointed in your efforts. Because I’m not. There is just something I want much more than your instruction on etiquette.” You reach up to gently touch his cheek. The warmth of his smooth skin was so inviting. How long had it been since the two of you had been alone like this? Comte rarely trusted himself to be this close to you for long.

“That was what I was thinking. That I wanted your company. Just you…” Comte gave you a pained smile. “Perhaps I was overzealous in my duties then. You would have me as your instructor… yet I left out the crucial element of including myself. Forgive my oversight, ma cherie?” “Of course. Does this mean I get to… we can be closer?” You blush while attempting to put your feelings into words. You knew at times being close to you was difficult for him. Often he would apologize profusely and ask that you give him leave to be alone. He admitted his feelings made your blood so appealing at times he—the ever self-contained host—nearly lost himself to wanting you. “You wanted me..?" His voice wavered. Those golden eyes held a hesitance that caused a twist of pain in your chest. Didn't he realize how you felt? How you longed to be in his arms? To hear his voice whisper into your ear all the things he wanted to do to you. "Always, Comte." You meet his gaze full on. Daring him to believe you. Daring him to see the truth of exactly how much you loved him. "Then turn around." "What? Why?" "Don't you trust your lover?" He asked teasingly. "I do… I'm just reluctant to turn away. You are far more appealing to look at then the door." "Trust me, little one, there will be plenty of time to look at me in a moment." He captured your wrist and turned you in his arms the way a man would twirl his partner on the dance floor. His free hand caught you at your waist, pressing pleasantly against your abdomen and drawing you flush against him. "Keep your hands here." He commanded placing them on the wall so that your arms were above your head. "If you move them there will be consequences." His warning brought a smile to your lips but that smile faltered as the gold of his tie shaded your vision. "Comte?" You ask. "Losing one sense heightens the others, does it not?" "In theory…" you admit hesitantly. "Let us test this theory then. Shall we?" With that he began to unzip the back of your dress exposing your skin to his touch. He must have already unbuttoned his shirt because you felt the warmth of his stomach press against your back as he shifted closer to you. "What do you think? Does losing your sight allow you to hear more?" He whispered into your ear before sliding a hand up your thigh. "Feel more? And possibly taste more?" He nipped at the base of your neck causing a pleasant shiver to run across your exposed skin. "Oh Comte…" you sigh his name in pleasure as those powerful hands grip your thighs pressing you flush against him. You feel the pounding of his heart at your back as his chest rises and falls with each breathe. "Tell me what you feel. What you want from me_______." He commanded caressing your thigh with small sensuous circles. "I want your hands to warm me. Your body to mold to mine. I want your touch to set me on fire Comte." "There's my naughty little pupil… your honesty is quite shocking you know. I may have to give you exactly what you ask for." He slid your skirt upward until he could press his hardness directly against yours skin. The heat of him made you moan with longing even as his fingers forced you to spread your legs. "You already want me this much?" He asked exploring the slick wetness he found inside of you. He stroked his fingers against your entrance then slid them inside seeking the aching heat that could be found there. The movement of his entering and withdrawing his long fingers was making your legs tremble and you core burn for him. "I'm so ready for you to take me. Please Comte." You begged.

"Ah, but how shall I take you?” He teased. Comte loved to ask questions seeking your response to everything he did to you. It was as though he were exploring every aspect of you intent to learn everything there was to know. What you needed. What you wanted. What you felt when he touched you… “Shall I be gentle? Tender? Drawing out every wave of pleasure until you beg me to finish you? " He asked. "Or shall I punish you? My naughty girl who daydreams during her lessons. Allowing her mind to wander… to contemplate making love, instead of focusing on her lessons." You were already so wet you were dripping down your thighs. At your moan of pleasure he pressed himself between your legs. He refused to enter you yet but just having the length of him so near made your core contract with pleasure. Comte's hands were hardly idle, however, as they drew away from pleasing you. They began exploring the curve of your stomach and your waist. Freeing you of the confines of your dress he began expertly loosening your corset. When those delicious hands at last cupped your breasts in gentle sensuous strokes another wave of damp heat dripped down your thighs. "Was this what you wanted, ma Cherie? When you were daydreaming during your lessons. Or was it something significantly more naughty?" “This is what I wanted Comte.” You admit summoning a triumphant chuckle from your lover. Comte pressed you against the door his breath heated against your ear. "We are not finished yet mistress. For you see rebellious young ladies need to be punished when they lie to their Maestro. Are you ready to be punished my little vixen?" The devilish light in his smile was one you had seen only a few times. Yet it made your blood run hot with anticipation of just what he may have in mind. "I am at your mercy master Comte. Punish me as you see fit." In a smooth but firm movement he shifted his hips pressing your thighs open wider. You felt the tip of him tease your entrance. Aching for him to be deeper you pressed back against him. A moan of frustration escaping when he did not thrust inside. "How much do you want it, little one? And how hard?" "I want it so badly Comte. Please!" You moan. "That's only one answer. I asked two questions." "Oh God Comte. Please take me hard. I need you so much. Just…. please!" He nipped at your earlobe still refusing to move. "Have I told you I love it when you beg me?" "Comte-" you were trembling so hard you could hardly speak. His fingers had caught your hardened nipples and pinched them with just enough pressure to summon pleasure. "You tremble for me. You ache for me. And you are only permitted to dream of me." "Y-yes! Oh God yes!!" His first thrust broke your reply into a cry of pleasure. His punishing pace was far from gentle yet you gloried in ever thrust. Ached at every withdrawal. Begged him to fill you again and again with every cry of pleasure he summoned. "That's it my little nightingale. Sing sweetly for me. Tell me how I make you want me." "Oh Comte! I'm so close…" The trembling in your legs became too much to hold you up. To support you his hands at last released your breasts. Instead he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you against him. Easing you through the orgasm with gentle thrust after thrust until the trembling inside of you reached its peak. He turns you around to face him cradling your limp body against the warmth of his chest. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you to the couch where he settles you comfortably against his chest. Your heartbeats mingling together as though put in sync by some unknown force.

Comte’s shirt was open though not discarded as were his trousers. Your own clothing had been tossed carelessly across the room landing on the desk. You stroke the exposed skin of his chest as he leans forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “Was I too hard on you, my love?” He whispered. The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. You propped yourself up on his chest so you could look down into those gorgeous golden eyes. “That was perfect Comte.” You smile at him pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I assure you I am completely repentant and will never daydream during your lessons again.” “Well I find that disappointing.” He chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll need to find other things to punish you for, then.” “I’m sure that won’t be difficult.” You stroke his hair brushing it away from his handsome features so you can have a better look at him. “I love you Comte.” He rolled over tucking you against him as he does and easily switching places so he is on top of you. “Keep singing like that, ma cherie… and I’ll need to reward you for being so sweet.” His mischievous chuckle ends in a passionate kiss as he claims your mouth the way he had just claimed your body. “I love you too, __. I hope someday I can express to you how fortunate I feel every time I hold you like this. Every chance I have to love you like this. Please never assume there is anything in this world I want more.” “I feel the same. Every moment with you is so precious Comte. Please never let me go.” “As my mistress commands.” He chuckled stealing another kiss. The first of many as your passion rekindled the burn of sweet longing his touch always inspired.