#coming from someone who despises pet names

[yourbestbuddie]

Headcanon that cas does not understand human pet-names in the slightest. Sure he knows about ‘darling’, ‘honey’, ‘sugar’, but he doesn’t understand why those words are chosen specifically. One day, Dean and Cas are in the kitchen, Dean’s making dinner and Cas is watching him, and Dean’s like, “Hey Cas, can you pass me the rice?” And Cas, wanting to impress Dean with his knowledge of human interaction/emotion, responds with “of course, Milk.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 01.10 - (whb) Lucifer ~

Dom!reader x sub!lucifer - reader is gender neutral

Warning: nipple play, lactation, dacryphilia, marking, objectification (a little), pet names, teasing, praise kink (a little), cumming untouched, eating cum (both), cum play, tongue kiss, mind break, sub-space, dacryphilia

~ Word count: 5.7k ~

Nini!rant: okay.. huh.. first one done, and it’s our beautiful luci

Kinktober list 2024

The sound of birds chipping echoed through the greenhouse, where you were enjoying some afternoon tea. Their singing wasn’t rhythmic nor melodic, yet it was calming and quite befitting the atmosphere. At least they served the purpose of breaking the silence between you and the person sitting across you. He requested your presence and had you come all the way to Paradise Lost, only to play house with you.

This was truly an awful experience, getting interrogated like this by none other than the strongest being in hell, the Lucifer himself. Though can you call it interrogation, when all he has done was staring at you through his bangs? At least the treats were good, you were able to distract yourself from the infuriating situation at hand. The smell of tea filled your nostrils, it tickled the tip of your nose. A single sip was all it took to bring a smile to your face, a pleased expression showing in response to the rich aroma of your drink.

All of the flavors were amazing and exquisite. It was just the right amount of sweetness to brighten your mood, and enough bitterness to keep your mind alerted. Despite the tense situation, or the lack of it to be precise, he was still the first creation of god. That’s a title worth fearing. The first light of dawn, the first angel, basically the one who has witnessed it all. It was a given that the pressure would linger despite the seemingly gentle atmosphere. No matter how he tried to mask this interaction up as a simple tea party, you were going to be careful around him. Better that than sorry.

You took another sip, feeling the warmth of the tea chase out the chilly sensations from before. Something was missing though, you were craving some milk with your tea.

The gentle sunlight felt like a warm embrace, a blanket that sheltered all of hell. If Gehenna had the same weather as here, then Leraye must be feeling pretty down. A soft smile formed on your lips at the thought of that sunshine of a child, and the corners of your mouth twitched ever so slightly. Lucifer, who sat opposite to you, observed your every mimic with a nonchalant expression, studying them even.

His messy hair, as bright as the light, shone alongside the sun. After a moment’s hesitation, he talked in his usual deep yet tender voice, one that could bring his subject to the brink of ecstasy, “For what my brother did, I want to apologize.” The first words that left his throat were apologetic ones, then he swiftly changed it to a firm tone, “I’d be willing to make up to you.”

Make up to you, he said. Was he perhaps trying to lessen the sins of his dearest ones? Now that’s an interesting offer, it caught you off guard and sent a chill down your spine. As if someone just pushed you into a pond. Nevertheless, you had to be careful, one wrong step could end up with your head rolling around, and you still haven’t decided on how dangerous that guy was. If we were to go by what Satan mentioned, it would take the power of all the six kings of hell to have a chance at defeating this guy.

With lingering doubts, you opened your mouth, replying after much contemplating and care, “Could you elaborate on that?” First, you needed to know what he meant by his words, to clear off any possible misunderstandings. To make up to you, it sounds like he owes you a favor. Of course, you despised that self-righteous angel for his deeds and sins committed against you, yet you would never blame it on someone not involved. His gaze shifted from you to his cup, staring at his reflection in the liquid.

He had a guess about how you must feel at this moment, hence his explanation, “A sexual favor is also possible.” Those words had an unfamiliar ring to Lucifer, it was the first time in eons that he used them. In a deep, hidden corner of his mind, he wished to know what you had done with his relatives. What was the saying again? Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives and came back satisfied? “You may show me what you did with my brothers.” He suggested, adding some information to his previous statement.

That would never happen, at least not now, not when you are in such a vulnerable position. Who knows what he might do with you after finding out about all the things you did, about how you made his brothers cry. Still you were intrigued, seeing this flawless… person— cry would surely be quite the adventure and bring forth a fitting satisfaction, even so, you valued your life, enough to not want to die a gruesome death.

The best way to get out of this mess would be to act kind and naive. You smiled insincerely, hiding your skeptic feelings behind a carefully crafted mask. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, there is no need for you to apologize.” A tone tender enough to make flower petals seem rough, paired with a bright smile full of rejection.

“Is that so.” The angel in front of you acknowledged your words, he used his arms to push himself up from his seat. Now that he stood up, you remembered how intimidating he actually was. Considering that he was incredibly tall, adding on the fact he also owned a fearsome aura around him. It was a feel unique to the seraphim, one that just reeked of unyielding pride. 

Your finger clenched around your teacup tighter, awaiting his next move. “Follow me,” Lucifer said. It wasn’t a question nor was he polite about it, it was an order. There was no doubt he was an angel, some habits just never change. Though in all honesty? Every single one of his mannerisms reminded you of one. The subtly arrogance, how he seemed like he felt superior to everyone, the commanding voice, and the cold shoulder he gave you. Should you really follow such a person? What choices did you have, when it was a direct order from the avatar of pride?

Even so, you wanted to voice your concerns first, gulping down the knot in your throat. “Where are we going?” You tried to sound unsuspecting and cheerful, the last thing you wanted was to accidentally offend him. To be honest all you wanted was to run and escape this suffocating place. “To my bedroom.” He answered nonchalantly, as if that was the most normal thing in the world, to invite someone you barely knew to your bedroom.

One didn’t need to be a genius to guess what his intentions were, so you had to set the record straight right here right now. Who knows, maybe he will let you go if your preferences don’t align. That would be quite a nice outcome indeed. After mustering up enough courage, you stood up as well, looking him sternly in the eyes as you made yourself clear, “If your plan is what I think it is, then please pardon me. I do not wish to get intimate with a stranger.”

A stranger, you said. Right, that’s one way to describe your current relationship. Lucifer thought about your words carefully, looking for the right things to say to convince you. Your logic was understandable, it was the correct way to do it after all. Though he didn’t have time to wait for you to open up to him. The only reason why he wanted to share a night with you was to get Solomon’s descendant on his side, and doing it in the romantic, patient way wouldn’t do. For that, he was too jealous of Solomon to treat his descendants with compassion.

Besides this was hell, the most efficient way to get things done was simply through a sexual act. That way you can find out a lot about the other party. Long story short, he wasn’t going to heed your will. “I understand your point, though I fear I can’t accept it.” He began, and continued after taking a few steps in your direction, “If you wish, you can simply admire and touch me as if I’m merely an object. We don’t need to go all the way.”

Who the heck did he think he was, sure, he was a very prominent figure, but even then how could he disregard and disrespect your opinion like this. “No, I-” He glared at you for a split second, furrowing his eyebrows as he interrupted your sentence, “I won’t take no for an answer, it’s for hell.” Then his features reverted back to the neutral one. For a moment, he reminded you of a certain devil who was known for his bad temper.

With much complaining, you eventually gave up and agreed to his request, feeling a little cornered. “Fine, lead the way then.” You answered begrudgingly, forcing out a meek smile. Lucifer’s expression still didn’t change, he stared at you blankly for a second, before turning around and repeating the words he previously uttered, “Follow me.” How irritating he was, just like any other devil, or angel for that matter.

Not long after you found yourself slandering through the gigantic halls of his palace, it was decorated extravagantly in all the different shades of gold. Merely walking on such expensive-looking ground made you feel inferior. Wherever you looked you could hear the objects scream ‘broke’ at you. This wasn’t a treatment you expected in Paradise Lost, it sounded more befitting of Mammon’s castle.

On the other hand, it was to be expected that the resting place of every king must be of the highest quality, whether if they liked it or not, their subjects would arrange it for them in that manner. Despite you walking right behind him, you didn’t want to watch his back. All you did was curse about how everything unfolded. His shoulders were wide, paired with a slim waist to match. He was wearing a large suit jacket, yet he couldn’t conceal that fact. The way he walked was befitting his aura, rid of any hints of hesitation and full of precision. If someone didn’t know his position, they could still guess it, all due to his habits.

After a while, he finally reached his wanted destination, stopping in front of a room. You sneaked up next to him, still unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. There was not a single word you two exchanged during your little trip, causing it to be more or less awkward. Lucifer pushed the door open, turning the doorknob and stepping inside, of course, you followed shortly after. The inside of the room was even more lavish than the gorgeous floors outside. Each piece of furniture fit into the frame, all of them had their own designated place, and the way they were lined up implied someone meticulously planning all of it out beforehand.

You couldn’t help but be amazed, these rooms are more than what one could categorize as luxury. Sure, the other king’s palaces didn’t fall behind in any aspects, though you were still impressed nonetheless. To think you’d be allowed inside such a grandiose space… if this was Earth it must cost a fortune. All your initial impressions were washed away the moment you recalled his presence. How did you manage to forget, for even one frame of a second? The moment you noticed, you started keeping to yourself again, hoping you didn’t step out of line. Eyes weakly scanning the room, avoiding his gaze at all costs. What he did next was unexpected, so much so that you ended up finding yourself staring without knowing what to do.

He walked over to the bed, sat down, and began to undress.

The first piece of clothing to be dropped was his jacket with the white snake. Dropping it off onto the ground, then slowly unbuttoning his shirt. In your head, a million thoughts flooded you, especially because you were confused about what to do. When Lucifer started taking his dress shirt off, revealing his toned body, you decided you had enough and asked, “What’s this supposed to mean?” Without even thinking about it, contemplating what he wanted to say, he blurted out, “Seducing you.”

The way he replied was as if he saw nothing wrong with his deeds and choice of words. “Really now? Why would someone like you bother?” Despite a small fraction in the back of your mind having already expected this, considering his intentions were as clear as water, you still had a glimmer of hope that that wouldn’t be the case. He didn’t have any connections with Solomon like the other kings, on the contrary, he is envious of him. For a man like him to want to earn your favor - it sounds unbelievable.

“I simply wanted to try my shot, perhaps I failed already?” Lucifer questioned after seeing your serious expression, his shirt was loose now but not taken off completely. “Failed what?” You asked him, hoping that you could gather enough information to make sense of what was going on. “Failed to impress you.” The blondie said, without hesitation or a hint of sarcasm. Why would you want to impress me, was what you would have liked to ask, though your guts told you to stay quiet.

 It’s a given that anyone would be in awe of him, considering how endearing he’s been the entire time. Even now, him sitting on his bed while flexing his muscles and that slim waist; every part of him was proof that he was sculpted by the loving hand of god personally. “No, that’s not the case..” you stopped mid-track, thinking about the possible outcomes for a bit, being hasty could cause backlash after all. If you praised him, he might take it as consent, but if you refused, would he get defensive? Was he a case like Levi?

Instead of pondering over this any longer, you took a gamble. Fine, since he wished to get laid so badly, shall you entertain him then? You walked up to him and hopped onto the bed as well. The soft sunlight still grazed your skin, the mattress sinking due to your added weight. “I’m plenty impressed, lucifer.” You had to show determination and sincerity, otherwise it wouldn’t bear fruits.

This wasn’t a lie though, he was very beautiful.

Your arm reached out for the male, finding yourself more and more captured by him with each passing second. Now that you were above him, he didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore. Fingers intertwined with his locks, stroking him while giving him a big smile. It felt pleasant, that was his first thought. Like the warmth god showered him with before Solomon came. A deep sigh left him, bitterness suddenly intruded into the room, and the atmosphere proceeded to sink.

No matter how you tried to brush it off, it seemed like he was troubled. It couldn’t have been something you did, right? Nonetheless, you hugged him gently. Your hands were still wrapped in his hair, scraping his scalp with a tenderness he hadn't felt for a long time. You pulled him closer to you until you were both resting your chins on the other’s shoulder. His sharp teeth were dangerously close to your skin, but you tried not to worry.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, no one is forcing you, even if it’s your duty.” Your voice rang through his head, it brought forth a strange sense of comfort. “I’m doing it out of my own will.” He retorted. It smelled fishy to you, but you didn’t pursue it further. Eventually, he returned your embrace. “That’s comforting to hear.” So you replied, If you were to enjoy yourself, you had to make sure the other person wanted it too.

You took a deep breath, taking in his scent before exhaling. Your hot breath tickled his neck and before he knew it, you kissed his neck gently. The way you did it was as if you drew on his skin with your lips. One mark after another, planting them around him and corrupting him with your traces. He was taken aback, though it didn’t feel bad. At most, it tickled, which is why he let you continue, while all he did was breathing softly next to your ear. Each exhale blew some air against your skin as well, cheering you on to continue your actions.

Soon, your kisses turned into sucks, leaving behind more of your presence, proof and traces of this session today. The spots you touched would turn red shortly after, and persist for the rest of the day. How greedy of you, did you wish to mark him as yours?

“Child of Adam- uh, no, of Solomon… you, haaah.” He called out to you, hands lingering over your back. This was the first time you saw him hesitating to do something, he wasn’t sure if he had permission to crawl at your back. “Never mind.” Lucifer sighed and let you continue your little drawing session.

With time you also trailed off, going lower with your movements. All that persisted was a path from his neck to the middle of his chest. He sat up straight, only to get pushed into the mattress by you. His shirt was hanging off his shoulders as if he carefully orchestrated it this way. You hovered above him, hands releasing his hair and instead grabbing the sides of his torso. There you traced his silhouette with your hands until you were holding his astonishingly small waist. 

It felt good, his skin was smooth and nice to the touch, also your hands fit in that place so perfectly, as if he was God's gift to you. Besides he seemed to like it as well, since he didn’t protest. Instead, his face started to flush slightly, alongside a sudden change in rhythm with his heartbeat. “I’m guessing I’m supposed to leave it all to you..?” Lucifer gazed up at you through half-lidded eyes, a slight, almost inaudible tremble underneath his voice. “That’s right, you told me I can treat you like an object.” You reminded him, he didn’t know if you meant it or not.

You started sucking on his nipples afterward, first licking the area and circling around it with the tip of your tongue, then flicking the wet muscle over his perky buds. His breasts were squishy and so pretty, you couldn’t help yourself. After taking a glance at his reddened face, you began sucking on his pecs. A shiver ran down his spine at the realization, face twisted into a pleasure-ridden expression.

This wasn’t a completely new feeling, since he did have experience with intimacy, though he was never the bottom. Or, rather, no one ever dared to top and grope him like this. You were truly beyond what a normal mortal was, having the resolve to touch him however you want without shivering in fear. At this rate, he might become quite fond of you.

“Do you enjoy touching me there?” He uttered, a breathy moan following close by. “I would do it if I didn’t like it.” You snapped back, a part of you wondered how you suddenly got the courage to talk to him like that. Was it because he’s under you? “…be gentle with me then.” The Blondie said, turning his face to the sides to avoid your watching gaze. “I can’t promise it, but I’ll try.” A teasing smile showed on your face as you uttered those words, eyes squinted slightly into a suspicious smile. “You don’t look trustworthy at all.” Lucifer mocked, though you ignored him and instead rolled your eyes.

Now that things have escalated to this point, the angel was wondering how far you two would go. Was this the end or the beginning, will he regret it in the end? “Ha.. uh-uhm,.” Occasionally, a sharp gasp would slip from him. Whenever you used too much force or pinched him too hard, the pain he felt would turn into pleasure and raise his libido, rendering him unable to repress his voice. Whatever this was, it must be what god wanted for him and his brothers, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't have created this feeling, this bliss and ecstasy.

You tried your best to stimulate both of his nipples, rolling the cute pink bud between your teeth. Red marks have plagued his upper area too now, and the amount was much more compared to his neck. A sense of pride filled you at your own achievement, or better yet, at this work of art beneath you. “Simply divine.” You uttered while gazing up at him through an adoring gaze, something completely different from only minutes ago. Then you noticed how his eyes were half-lidded, face blushing and lips parted due to his heavy breathing. A tired look on his face as he stared at you through wet lashes, or was it a needy look?

Who in the world would be able to resist such temptation, the temptation of the most powerful being getting all submissive for you. It has gotten increasingly difficult to resist this fine man, much harder than it was with anyone else. Without wasting more precious time and chatting any further, you switched your focus to the other one. You’ve ruined one side enough already, it was swollen and red while the other still looked pretty healthy. Wasn’t it time to abuse that spot too? Now using your hand to flick the previous one, while sipping on the other with your lips. Not long after he started making more sounds, resistance shredding entirely.

These noises were beautiful, absolutely stunning, they were like music to your ears. You listened closely while he whined and panted, feeling proud that you made him into the mess of a man. “HuuhH.. ha- hnng..! Wa-wait…” Something was strange, why did this feel so nice? Why was his heart racing so much, when it never happened with anyone but god? Not to mention how his body burned whenever your skin made contact, it tingled and felt giddily. Was it your charm, or because of the skillful touch of your hands? So many questions were going to be left unanswered, while his desire grew with each passing moment.

Suddenly you noticed something strange on your tongue, at the same time your finger seems to have touched a foreign liquid. “NghHhh…” Lucifer gasped as you pulled back, leaving his reddening nipples alone. His poor buds have been used and abused for so long, they were standing up all proud and hard. The same goes for the thing inside his pants, creating an obvious bulge between his legs. A dark spot formed where the tip of the tent was. You only stared at him, at his body, unable to comprehend the situation. What was that, you thought at first, then a bright smile crept onto your features. Was it perhaps what you thought it was?

The Blondie glanced at you a few times, before mumbling, “Why did you stop?” He couldn’t comprehend your actions, he thought everything was going alright, so why did you ruin the rhythm like this? There was no answer from your side, you remained silent. Right as he was about to ask again, you resumed your previous actions, flicking his nipples again which immediately yearned a yelp from the male. “Hmm-! UgGhh..” a watery and slightly milky substance dripped from his breasts onto your fingers. Exactly as you expected.

In the meantime, he was gripping the sheets as tightly as he could, to the point that his knuckles turned white. Surprise and amazement were written all over your face, he couldn’t quite fathom why you looked so excited, though before he got the chance to speak you basically answered him already, “Haha.. you are lactating, lucifer.” The words that came from your lips were foreign, it caused his heart to stand still for a second.

“Excuse me?” His pupils shrank, and he pulled such a silly and cute look of confusion as a response. Without further delay, you licked over his hardened nipples, and then another drop of milk stimulated your taste buds. “It’s delicious..!” You couldn’t help but compliment him, feeling overjoyed at this new discovery. Never have you ever experienced something astonishing as this, though if you had to be completely honest, it didn’t taste all that much. 

Wait, hold up, explain- lactation? You mean him, lucifer, the good that fell from grace, was producing milk all this time? How his head spun, processing this information was too much for the inexperienced angel. Sure, he isn’t naive when it comes to intimate things, but he wasn’t this deep into it! Lucifer would have been longer lost in his thoughts if it weren’t for your rough treatment. Despite his inner turmoil you kept sucking and nibbling at him with a newfound fever, swallowing anything his body gave to you.

“Ahh…” the Blondie moaned, then proceeded to whine desperately, “Don’t be.. too rough..” it didn’t hurt, but it made him feel like he was on the brink of losing his sanity. All because of the weird pleasures and bliss he got out of this, he was reaching highs he never knew before. And you didn’t even touch him on his private parts, so why was he so sensitive?

“Is this how angel milk is made?” You asked him jokingly while rubbing his nipple in between your teeth, still playing with that poor body part of his. “NgGhhm..! Don’t ask- haaaa… stupid things..” God, his voice was so adorable it fuelled your want to ruin and bully him. All you wanted to do was to play with him until he didn’t have anything to offer anymore, until you sucked him dry. Just the thought of it was making you happy.

Pair that with the neutral but slightly sweet taste of his milk, you felt like you were in heaven. “I wish I had some tea to pair with your milk.” The bitterness of the tea would be compensated for with the sweet aftertaste of his milk. It would have been such a fine combination. His blush intensified at your comment, how do you always manage to come up with such unique ideas?

“Shall I request Buer or someone else to bring a cup?” This was only a teasing question, to provoke him. Yet to your surprise, he started crying and holding onto your sleeves. “No-.. don’t.” Tears akin to diamonds rolled down his cheeks, sparkling the entire time. Your heart jumped at his reaction. Like a deer caught in headlights, you couldn’t help but stare at him with a blank expression. Tears? Cries? You made the strongest being after god cry? What a satisfying feeling that was, you were captured by his beautiful, tears-ridden face.

Lucifer frowned and bit his bottom lip, embarrassed at his vulnerable state. Before he could wipe his tears with his sleeves, you kissed them away. Even you yourself didn’t know exactly why you did it. After all, this wasn’t because you couldn’t stand his crying face, because he looked beautiful while shedding those water droplets. Guess you just wanted a taste, to see if it was as delicious as his.. other fluids? You wanted to caress his face in that moment, to hold him and whisper all the dirty things you were going to do to him into his ear. This was similar to your experience on Christmas with his brothers, only ten times better.

How strange, he felt a certain kind of Deja vu at your tender touch. For one second, he could see the adoring caresses from his little brothers on him, hugging or holding his hand. Then he got reminded of when he first opened his eyes, when the love of god belonged only to him. “I want to taste all of you.” You whispered, pulling him out of his daydream again. On the other hand, you were almost shocked at how perverted your own words were. His sobbing quieted down slightly, and he looked away hesitantly. Lips trembled a little as a genuine, sad tear rolled down his chin.

“I’m sorry, that was too mean of me to say, to bring your subordinate into this as well.” You thought that was the reason why he was crying, so you quickly apologized. The blondie thought about your apology while you ate up his tears like it was a five-course meal, he clenched his eyes shut due to how close you were. “I’m alright.” He responded though the sobbing wouldn’t stop. Why? “..I hope that is the truth.” You eventually admitted, then caressed his face once again. If anything, you didn’t wish to hurt him.

After you resumed your earlier demonstrations and pinched his nipples, his sex twitched around, yearning to be freed. “Ah, it hurts.” Lucifer groaned loudly, his sharp teeth injured his own lips. “Is that all you feel?” You teased him. Tsk, asking something so obvious, you were playing games with him again, weren’t you?

“Be honest with me, Luci.” The sound of that nickname was weird, it brought forth unfamiliar sensations he had never experienced before. The angel still refused to elaborate further, since it was shameful for him. It would sound so weird if he admitted he liked the pain, he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. That stupid pride of his…

All that silence was getting too annoying, you wanted his opinion. In the end, you nibbled on his buds again, stopping only to say, “I can see that you are enjoying yourself, the wet spot on your pants is growing.” A yelp slipped from him, finally a shocked expression was spread across his features. “Ugh.. why now?!” He seemed to condemn his own body, feeling ashamed at this vulgar sight of his. “Look, everything down here is so sticky.” You said while your hand crept lower, to grobe him through his pants. “MhhHm, is— is that so?” Huh, was he trying to play the naive card now?

You held your now defiled hand right in front of his face as if to prove a point. “Exactly! Look right here.” A perverse-looking liquid stuck to your fingers and palm, it made a squelching sound whenever you clenched your hand. “Ah.. ah.” He whined, to think that he produced this filthy thing..! He turned his head to the side, to avoid looking at it. Poor Birdy hasn’t been this ashamed for centuries.

When you noticed his embarrassment, you grinned again, then brought your hand to his chest. Then you smeared all of it onto his chest, causing everything to get all wet and sticky. “HnHhn..!? Did you just-..?” Lucifer turned around as soon as he felt his own precum touching his otherwise pure and divine skin.

If that wasn’t enough already, you had to go back to playing with his already exhausted nipples. On top of that, you were cleaning up the mess you made on his chest, swallowing his slightly bitter precum along with his milk. “It’s a pretty good substitute for tea, heh.” You commented, then stuck your tongue out for him to see the two fluids mixed together, along with your spit as well.

His mouth hung agape, half due to shock, half because he couldn’t restrain his groans. You took that opportunity to kiss him and stick your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around to make him taste himself. “MhmhGnnH..!! NHhH- uhHhnnn..♡♥︎~!” All he could do was moan into your mouth or choke out broken whimpers as more tears decorated the scene. Your hands didn’t stay useless and kept fiddling with his chest. This was too much stimulation for the poor angel, he literally saw stars as the mix of bitter and sweet danced across his tastebuds. The way you kissed him was rough yet pleasant, bringing forth an ecstasy completely new to him.

When you shoved your wet muscle down his throat, causing him to gag, a huge wave of pleasure coursed through his body. He shivered so much, shaking to the point you were almost worried. At the same time, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull as all of his moans got muffled by you. The only sounds slipping through were meek whimpers, barely audible to the human ears.

After you were done and you pulled back, granting him the privilege to breathe again, he looked like a total mess. Drool was hanging out of his lips, as well as something milkier in color. Strings of saliva were connecting his swollen lips with yours. A dazed look in his eyes, as if he didn’t bear a single thought behind those melting pupils. His face was covered in a layer of sweat and tears, his already messy locks stuck to his body like gum. You called out his name, saying it in a sweet and innocent tone. He didn’t answer you, only staring into the space like a used doll. Was he perhaps in sub-space? How adorable.

Your gaze coincidentally landed on his crotch, noticing how some of the white fluids were seeping through his trousers. Ah, so that’s what happened. This little angel here came untouched huh? Amazing, simply stunning. That sadistic smirk of yours returned as you yanked off his pants, holding back your laughter at the mess he made. You just had to taunt him for that, snarking at him, “Aww, did the big Lucifer cum from some touching and kissing? How humiliating, don’t you agree?” No answers, just a quiet whine did escape his throat. Good, he can still hear you.

“Such a mess you made, tsk tsk tsk.” You clicked your tongue, sarcastically shaking your head. After that you whispered sickly sweet, “But it’s alright, you will clean it up afterwards anyway, isn’t that so, Luci?”

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Men can lactate too, right. That’s something we’ve known for a long time. But only about 1/8 of men have the necessary requirements to produce milk. Because producing milk has something to do with the hormone levels, and it’s unusual for men to have enough to actually produce milk. Even then, it’d be a more watery consistence compared to the milk of a woman.

Anyway, to get a man to lactate isn’t as easy as it is in fiction. You’ll have to basically suck on the nipple, with a vacuum or mouth, for weeks (depends on the individual) for it to start producing small amounts of milk. Or in other words, constant nipple stimulation.

Another way is to take medicine promoting the needed hormones, or to starve oneself -> during World War II there has been records of prisoners lactating after starving and finally being fed. Many speculate it’s because of the dropping hormone levels due to starvation and the sudden rising once they receive food again. That’s why their bodies produced milk. (Pls don’t ask)

There are also cases where all this doesn’t apply and a guy lactates for no reason… then it’d be in your best interest to check it out with a doctor. It could be breast cancer after all, and this doesn’t only apply to guys, if anyone just suddenly leaks milk for no reason it could be signs of cancer.

[hexb0nes]

Risky Business

word count: 5.5k

contains: modern/college au, no preestablished romantic relationships (viktor and reader are besties that torment jayce /hj), frat bro/lacrosse player!jayce, honors student!viktor, art kid!reader, switch!jayce, dom!viktor, switch!reader, bottom!jayce, top!viktor, alcohol, weed, drug use, stoner!viktor & stoner!reader, oral sex (blowjob & pussy eat), anal sex, cock milking, safe sex & proper use of lube!!! (wrap it before you tap it & never do anal without lube), doggy style, too many mentions of prostate/cock/dick/pussy/cunt, praise kink, corruption kink, virgin!jayce, teasing, praise, pet names (golden boy/darling/sweetheart/baby), vaginal sex, somewhat animalistic/rough sex, we swallow not spit, cervix bruising, multiple orgasms, jayce aims to please, jayce’s cock is too powerful, lightweight!jayce (bro can't handle the weed), viktor and reader are menaces, one off mention of public sex, humiliation if you squint

summary: jayce embarks on a spiritual journey of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll with the help of his two hottest classmates at his fraternity's risky business themed party.

a/n: shoutout to this fic's beta reader @zevrra <3 they're awesome and write amazing arcane content!

Stale booze, pungent smoke from loosely rolled joints, and people making out in every room of the house are the trifecta of a typical frat house party. Yet, things have been turned up to a hundred and fifty for Greek Week’s Battle of the Greeks, each frat and sorority house on the Row competing to be the Greek Life chapter. For Piltover University’s Sigma Phi Delta, Greek Week means maintaining their incumbent title. 

Jayce, the newest recruit and brother, has the most unfortunate task for the party: keeping drunken idiots from destroying every inch of the frat house. Not that he minds, of course! Despite his charming looks and demeanor, Jayce Talis despises parties. Sure, a party of twenty people or less is fine, but a party at this level of insanity? Pure nightmare fuel.

To make matters worse for poor Jayce, someone from Sigma Phi Delta (he has his suspicion of who was responsible, a certain snobby blonde named Allira Salo) had suggested Risky Business as the theme for this year’s Battle of the Greeks. Now, here’s Jayce, standing by the drinks table in nothing but grey boxers, crew socks, and the longest button down he could find. D.M.S.R. by Prince plays over the speakers, a staple from the movie and the perfect party song.

Jayce nurses a Red Solo cup of cheap liquor in his hands, but he hadn’t taken a single sip. Whenever a frat brother or chatty drunk girl would come up to him, Jayce would feign drinking and laugh like a gleeful drunkard, playing along in the hopes they would skitter away to their next victim.

“Not much of a drinker, huh?” someone shouts to him over the loud beat of the funk track. Jayce looks down–he has to look down at everyone on the campus–and sees you, a classmate from his ART 106 class, Drawing for Non-Majors. Everyone pursuing a degree at Piltover University is required to take a “Creativity and Creative Development” class as part of their core curriculum. Drawing for Non-Majors happens to be the only art Jayce believes he could net an easy ‘A’ in. 

“How could you tell?” he yells back, as the music switches to The Dream is Always the Same, a somewhat psychedelic song. You tease the rim of your cup, bubbling lemon-lime soda inside, “You’re the least giddy frat boy at the party.”

Jayce eyes the way you guide your manicured finger around the cup and has to tear away his gaze to answer, “Yeah, makes sense. I got tasked with ‘drunk dumbass’ duty, so it’s better to be sober if some ass tries to pick a fight and break something.”

You give a nod and hold up your cup to Jayce, “Care for some Sprite then?”

Jayce’s eyes widen at your offer, “But you,” he blinks his surprise away, “That’s your drink.”

“Sharing is caring,” you chuckle. 

Jayce grabs the cup from you and examines it; never has he taken an already consumed drink from someone else, nonetheless from a cute girl like you. It’s like an indirect kiss! Oh, Jayce Talis–the cheesy romantic–is not one to kiss and tell, but he could count on one hand how many people he has kissed. Now or never. Jayce takes a timid sip from the cup and relishes in the refreshing taste, “Oh God, I needed that.”

“Good!” you take the cup back and down the rest of it. Now, this is an indirect kiss! Jayce’s tanned cheeks warm up at the realization and he fans himself with his free hand. Seeing his overheated face, you tilt your head and ask, “Too hot? Wanna come with me to a cooler spot?”

“Oh! Uh,” the frat boy runs through the possible outcomes if he does or doesn’t follow you. What if a fight happens while he’s occupied? What if you think he’s a bummer for not joining you? What if– “You don’t have to,” you add on and shrug, “If you don’t wanna.”

“No!” he exclaims, a bit too loud. Jayce quickly masks his enthusiasm with a fake cough, “Lead the way,” he flashes you his ‘Golden Boy’ smile. Please don’t think I’m an inexperienced loser.

“Cool,” you toss your cup in the nearby trash can and grab Jayce by the wrist, barely able to wrap your whole hand around it. Through the mobs of partying sorority girls, people cheering on a frat brother’s keg stand, and folks getting way too into dancing, you lead Jayce outside to the back of the frat house. A few party attendees are lounging about in the backyard, some of which are couples making out or people exchanging joints. 

“Viktor!” you call out. Sitting around some abandoned lawn chairs, a thin man with shaggy shoulder-length hair and a flannel perks up. He waves the two of you over and you each find a chair to occupy. Jayce examines the stickers on Viktor’s cane.

“Hey,” Viktor greets you both, his accent rich and thick.

“H- Hey,” Jayce attempts to be nonchalant, but fails miserably when his baritone voice cracks into soprano range. He recognizes Viktor from many of his engineering classes, but he never had the opportunity to chat one on one with him. Yet, judging by the hordes of engineering students seeking the cane user out for tutoring, Jayce doesn’t want to come off as needing such assistance–well, some assistance would be appreciated–or that he would use Viktor for it.

“Cute,” Viktor lets out a deep chuckle, honey amber eyes glowing almost eerily under the full moon’s light, “The Golden Boy’s a bit shy, huh?” 

“Oh, for sure,” you snort. Jayce pouts and averts his eyes from the two of you, only to have you tilt his chin back up with the tip of your finger, “We only tease in good faith,” you coo, “I take it that you know Jayce, Vik?”

“Everyone does,” he answers. Jayce pouts again and Viktor stifles back a laugh, “Also he’s my classmate in about half of my classes,” the pretty haired–Pretty haired?! Jayce, get it together!–boy leans closer and Jayce can smell the familiar stink of weed on his flannel, “I thoroughly enjoyed seeing your Rube Goldberg machine unfold during our class with Professor Hemingdinger.”

“Haha, yeah, that machine,” the engineering student cringes. You raise your eyebrows at the exchange, “Oh no, what happened?”

“The concept was ingenious, I must say,” states Viktor, “A creative way to dispense a cup of coffee for our dear professor,” Jayce buries his face into his sleeves of his varsity jacket, as Viktor continues, “However, Jayce miscalculated the placement of the coffee pot.”

“Don’t tell me,” your cheeks puff up to hold back your laughter. 

“Cue our poor professor drenched in coffee!” the cane user laughs. You break and join in, boisterous laughter ringing through Jayce’s ears. The frat boy peers up at the exchange and comments, “At- At least, it was lukewarm coffee…”

“Thank God,” you calm down from your laughing fit, “If it was any warmer, I’m afraid that you would have been sued,” Viktor nods along in agreement. Jayce runs his large, veiny hands through his clean-cut hair, “Okay, okay. Enough is enough.”

“Sorry,” you throw an arm around Jayce’s shoulders and pull him close, the scent of your strawberry perfume strong and intoxicating to the frat boy, “We can make it up to you, if you want.”

“How so?” he inquires.

You give Viktor a wink and he returns it with a thumbs up. Viktor snatches his worn out satchel from the leaf-covered ground and rummages through its content. It takes a moment or two before Viktor procures the object of desire, a baggie of green flowery clumps.

“Please tell me that’s oregano,” Jayce pleads.

“Nope,” the cane user confirms, “One hundred percent pure marijuana.”

“Don’t worry! Vik has a med card, so it’s like… totally legal,” you reassure Jayce with a pat on the cheek. Jayce bites his tongue to prevent himself from saying something utterly stupid, “Are you sure it’s okay? We won’t get in trouble?” Okay, nevermind, he does say something utterly stupid.

“As long as you’re not a narc,” replies Viktor. He sets the baggie down and pulls a few more items from his satchel: rolling paper, filter paper, and a grinder, “Watch the master at work,” 

Viktor grinds up a clump of flower; once properly grounded up to his liking, he places the filter paper on one end of the rolling paper, followed by the flower. He rolls it up flawlessly and seals it, producing a perfectly made joint, before making two more joints.

“Here,” he holds out a joint to Jayce. With shaky hands, Jayce accepts the joint with visible hesitation, almost dropping in the process. You squeeze his shoulder and murmur, “Don’t worry, the first time can be scary, but we can help you.”

“How?” questions Jayce. A sparkle of mischief flickers in your eyes, “Lemme show you,” you hop off your lawn chair and approach Viktor. You plop down on his lap and throw your legs over the arm of the chair, twirling a strand of Viktor’s tousled locks, “Light me up, baby.”

Viktor pulls out a silver lighter from his jeans pocket and you place the joint between your lips, letting it dangle. Jayce watches with bated breath, as Viktor flicks the lighter open and holds the flame by your joint. Once lit, you take a drag of it and inhale some of the smoke. You pull the joint out, cheeks puffed out with smoke, and beckon Viktor to come closer. Leaning in, you press your lips against Viktor’s and exhale, allowing the thinner man to consume the rest of the smoke, as the two of you kiss. 

Jayce gawks at the sight of you making out, the way you tug at Viktor’s hair and the way he grips at your sides stirs something inside the frat boy, “And that’s called shotgunning!” you finish the kiss up and inform Jayce, “Just make sure you part your lips before I shotgun you, or else we’ll waste some good smoke,” you offer him a lopsided smile, “Wanna give it a try?”

“Sure,” he nods. You move from Viktor’s lap and onto Jayce’s, the joint still lit in your hand. Jayce swallows any fear away, as you lay the joint between your lips and breathe in the smoke, the lit end lighting up with the inhalation. You pass the joint over to Viktor for him to hold and he steals a few hits, as you moved closer and closer and–

Jayce’s lips connect with yours and he parts them just enough for you to push smoke into his mouth. It travels down his throat and into his lungs, burning and irritating. Jayce breaks away from the kiss to cough, spluttering out hot smoke. You rub his back while he hacks up a lung, “Yikes, yeah, that happens a lot to beginners.” 

“Have some water,” Viktor passes off his water bottle and Jayce snatches it, drinking up all the liquid like a dehydrated man crawling through the Sahara Desert. He coughs a bit more up and finally settles down, “When does this-” he cuts himself off, as a fuzzy feeling suddenly clouds his mind. Jayce closes his eyes, then opens them, and then closes them again, “Wow,” he giggles, “Feels nice…”

“Please tell me that he didn’t just get high off one hit,” begs Viktor.

“I think he got high off one hit,” you answer. You prepare yourself to disembark from Jayce’s lap, but stop yourself, “Jayce,” he looks at you with wide eyes, “Yeah?”

“Why are you hard?” you question him. 

Jayce’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets at your inquiry. He jerks his head down and sees his predicament, a noticeable tent in his boxers. His face turns a deep shade or crimson red, “N- No, fuck, I’m so so so sorry- I don’t know why-” 

You place a finger against his lips to shush, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I know for a fact that you find me and Viktor very attractive, mhm? I saw the way you looked at us while we kissed.”

“And so what if I do?” the frat boy retorts, puffing out his chest in an effort to appear manly and confident. Yet, his resolve crumbles the moment you press your chest up against his torso, the fabric of your shirts being the only barrier, “We find you very attractive, too.”

Between the haze dulling his brain and the lustful stares of two stunning individuals on him, Jayce Talis caves in and whimpers to you, “Please, take care of me.”

“Good boy,” you peck him on the lips, “Show us the way to your room.”

Like an obedient pup, Jayce rapidly nods and helps you off his lap. Viktor nearly chokes on his joint when he sees Jayce’s boner, “What the fuck, you’re huge,” and earns a slap to the back of the head from you, “Don’t announce it!” you hiss to him, “He’s ours.” 

Those two or so words send shivers down Jayce’s spine. He’s ours. All Jayce ends is to be wanted; his efforts on the lacrosse team, his performance in class, everything he does is motivated by his need to be praised. He squeezes himself between you and Viktor in a line as a makeshift hiding spot for his boner and guides the two of you back inside the frat house. You three weave and dodge various obstacles, such as neglected soda cans and a sorority girl threatening to puke on you. Upstairs, a few people are scattered about the hallway, but none pay any mind to you all. You make your way to Jayce’s room and he opens the door, allowing you and Viktor to enter.

Jayce’s room is somewhat stereotypical of an athletic frat boy with messy bedsheets and posters of famous athletes on his wall. However, he has a few so-called nerdy things in his room, including a mechanical model of the Solar System and a Lego-built U.S.S Enterprise from Star Trek. You make yourself comfortable on Jayce’s bed while Viktor borrows the desk chair and Jayce sits on the floor. 

“Sooooooo…” the lacrosse player twiddles his thumbs, “How do we fix this?”

“What do you mean?” Viktor scoffs, “Haven’t you gotten a blowjob or a handjob before?”

Jayce’s silence speaks volumes and you connect the dots, “Oh. My. God. Jayce fucking Talis is a virgin.”

“No! I’m- well-” the virginal accused racks his brain to deny the allegations, “It’s- Ugh, okay, it’s true,” he confirms to you and Viktor, “It’s not that I have a vow of celibacy or anything, just that I wanted to save it for someone special.”

“It’s kinda cute,” you giggle softly while Viktor jokes, “And they say chivalry is dead. Good on you for defying frat bro stereotypes.”

“Are you gonna tease me all night or is one of you gonna choke on my fucking cock already?” Jayce’s filter went offline, the effects of weed taking more of an effect. 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” answers Viktor. You blow him a ‘good luck’ kiss and get cozy for the show. Viktor rises from the chair and leads Jayce to the bed; he sits down next to you, now face level to Jayce’s pelvis, “Drop those boxers, Golden Boy.”

Jayce tugs down his boxers and haphazardly shakes them off his legs. Now free from its confinement, his cock bounces freely, on display for you and Viktor to admire. Viktor sizes up Jayce’s dick—as thick as his wrist and as long as one and a half pencils stacked—and mumble to himself, “Damn, this is a virgin killer.”

“Impressed?” Jayce strikes the Superman pose and smiles. Viktor wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a light tug, watching as Jayce’s cockiness vanishes in an instant, “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive,” Viktor lines his lips up to the top of Jayce’s dick and opens his mouth, carefully sliding him inside. A soft moan tumbles Jayce’s lips from the sensation, as Viktor’s hot and wet mouth costs his cock. Inch by inch, Viktor takes more and more of Jayce’s length until he gets all but an inch in, a small bulge pointing from under his Adam’s Apple. Testing the waters, Viktor goes agonizingly slow with the blowjob, taking his sweet time to pull back until only the tip is inside. 

“Please go faster,” Jayce whines. Viktor lets out a muffled chuckle, the vibration ever so pleasant against Jayce’s shaft, and picks up the pace. He bobs his head up and down the length of Jayce’s cock, occasionally running his tongue down the prominent vein underneath and twirling it around the mushroom tip. Combined with the weed, Jayce is experiencing pure bliss, as he jerks his hips forward and shoves his dick deeper down Viktor’s throat. The smaller man gags at the sudden change, but quickly recovers, letting Jayce fuck his throat. Jayce thrusts his pelvis forward and slams his cock deep inside Viktor, gripping the receiver’s shoulders for extra support. Spit leaks from Viktor’s mouth, his hooked nose smacking into Jayce’s well-trimmed pubes, as Jayce assaults his throat with his fat cock. 

“Oh, shit!” the lacrosse player grunts, “I think I’m gonna-” he doesn’t have time to warn Viktor before climaxing, shooting sticky hot cum down the other man’s throat. Once positive that Jayce had finished orgasming, Viktor unhinges himself from the taller man’s cock and coughs up some cum. He swipes it off his lips and licks it off his fingers, “Salty.”

“Did you swallow all of that?” you ask, eyes as big as saucers, “He came for- like- two whole minutes.”

“Spitters are quitters,” he jests in retort. You playfully smack his arm and turn your attention to Jayce, “How are you feeling?” 

“Amazing,” he pants, face flustered, “Just one issue, though.”

“What’s up?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“I’m still hard,” the frat bro points downward, his cock still hard as a rock. Viktor looks over at you and rasps, “Tapping you in.”

“More than happy to have my turn, take five to recover,” you tell Viktor. He leaves the bed and returns to the desk chair, massaging his throat. You focus in on Jayce and pull him onto the bed, “Ready to try some pussy?” you coo.

Eager, Jayce nods in response, his mouth salivating at the thought of eating you out. You obligate his desires and strip yourself of your jeans, leaving only your cherry red undies left, “Take them off and have a look.”

Jayce follows your command without question, pulling your panties down your thighs and off your legs. You spread your legs open and Jayce bears witness to his first ever not porn-related pussy. Some wetness spills from your slit and onto the bed, you’re simply drenched. He hooks his hands around your legs and pulls you closer to his face, inhaling the smell of your divine cunt. The scent alone sends Jayce into a needy state, rutting his weeping cock against the mattress for some form of relief. Yet, he wants—no, needs—to focus on the task at hand, pleasing you.

“Give it a try, I’ll guide you,” you inform Jayce. With a timid nod, the frat bro dives right in and licks a long stripe from the bottom of your entrance to the top of your clit. You shudder and curl your toes, as Jayce experiments with a variety of methods. He sucks on your clit, first gentle then hard, altering to see which one you like more. It seems that you prefer hard, taking sharp breaths whenever he sucks like so. Above, you rip off your T-shirt and bra, freeing your breasts. You gesture for Viktor to come over and he does, finding a suitable position before latching onto one of your tits. Sweet mewls escape your lips while your boys have their way with you, Jayce now confident enough to devour your cunt like an animal and Viktor groping at your unoccupied tit while he suckles the other. 

“Fuck!” you croak out a shaky moan, as the knot in your stomach snaps, releasing a wet wave onto Jayce’s mouth and face. He happily laps up your juices, consuming every ounce he possibly could. You give yourself a minute to recover, Viktor laying beside you and tracing miscellaneous shapes on your skin while Jayce rests his head on your thighs. 

“Good job, boys,” you announce. You give each man a tender kiss on the lips as a reward, “You two should make out with each other.”

“Okay!” Jayce cheerily complies while Viktor merely shrugs. Viktor takes your spot on the bed and lays down fully. Jayce hovers over him, one leg on each side of Viktor’s petite waist. Only once did Jayce Talis ever kissed a boy and that had happened in middle school, but kissing boys is just like kissing girls… completely nerve-racking! 

“Just kiss me already,” huffs Viktor, yanking Jayce by the collar and slamming his lips against his. Jayce lets out a surprised yelp, but adjusts. Viktor’s free hand travels around Jayce’s waist and to his back, landing on his ass. He smacks Jayce’s ass, earning a moan from the other man, and begins groping it without remorse.

“Dude,” Viktor pauses the kiss to get your attention, “You have to feel this ass, it’s like pound cake.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” you make your way to Jayce’s backside, grabbing his ass and feeling it up, “Damn, Jayce! You have a whole bakery here!”

“Uh, thanks?” Jayce answers, unsure if that’s a compliment or not. You give Jayce your own smack on the ass, “Nice ass, Golden Boy. Now, get back to making out with my best friend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he exclaims before he resumes kissing Viktor. Meanwhile, you utilize this opportunity to ‘rub one out’, as you play with your clit and folds. You shove a finger inside and whimper, visualizing Jayce’s finger in its place. Another finger is soon added later and you bite your tongue to suppress any ungodly noises. 

“Hey, is it cool if I fuck him first?” Viktor asks you, receiving a weak thumbs up in return because you’re too busy jerking off to properly speak, “I’ll take that as a yes. Jayce, go get a condom from my bag.”

Jayce picks up Viktor’s satchel from the side of the bed and peeks inside, scooting various items out of the way before locating a roll of condoms, “I didn’t think you were the kinda guy to have a whole roll of condoms in your bag, Viktor.”

“Blame that one over there,” Viktor points over to you, who’s too entranced in pleasure to comment, “She likes to fuck everywhere.”

Jayce blushes at the thought; if you like to fuck everywhere, did you ever fuck in the arts classroom? His cock twitches when he imagines you and Viktor fucking in that classroom. Maybe, they’ll let me join them next time, Jayce ponders. 

Viktor shimmies off his pants and boxers, revealing his own equally impressive cock. It’s definitely not as long as Jayce’s, but Viktor rivals him in terms of girth. The man in question  rips off a condom from the roll and opens up its packaging, rolling the condom down his shaft, “Ready?”

“Wait, why am I the bottom?” he huffs.

You and Viktor stare at Jayce in silence, only the muffled echos of the party downstairs can be heard.

“Okay, you’re right, but still,” he concedes. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” states Viktor, genuine care in lieu of dry humor. Jayce smiles to himself at the reassurance and positions himself above Viktor, his hole dangerously close to his dick. 

“Got any lube?” asks Viktor.

“Yeah, in the top drawer of my dresser,” responds Jayce.

“Sweetheart,” the smaller man calls out to you, “Be a dear and grab the lube. No one’s raw-dogging anal tonight.”

“On it!” you approach Jayce’s dresser and open the top drawer. Among the stacks of underwear and socks, you find a bottle of lube, half of it already used, “Want me to lube you up, Jayce?”

“Sure,” he consents. You squirm some lube on your hand and Viktor pries Jayce’s cheeks open, granting you access to his hole. Jayce hisses at the coldness while you lube up his hole, taking time to finger him loose for extra measure, “All ready!”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Viktor smiles and pecks you on the lips, “Now, enjoy the show,” he lines his cock to Jayce’s asshole and guides him downward. Viktor’s cock pierces through Jayce’s untouched hole and Jayce swears he sees stars in that moment. The feeling of a dick in his ass is definitely a new feeling, as Jayce gives himself grace to adjust to Viktor’s size. The other man strokes the sides of Jayce’s legs as a means of distraction, “Take all the time you need, darling.”

Pain soon morphs into pleasure and Jayce moans loudly, “Fuck! This is nice!” He begins to ride Viktor’s cock, his own dick bouncing up and down with each movement. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, the overwhelmed pleasure incapacitating any reasonable thought in Jayce’s head. Jayce steadies himself with the help of his headboard, continuing to hop on Viktor’s dick like a rabbit in heat. Cum drips from his cock onto Viktor’s pelvis, but he pays no mind to it, too fixated on Jayce’s blissed out expression. Viktor joins in with Jayce’s bouncing and thrusts his dick upward whenever Jayce goes downwards. He positions his cock just right to hit Jayce’s prostate, sending full body shivers through the larger man.

“There, there!” Jayce eggs Viktor on. Using Jayce’s hips for support, Viktor pistons his dick in and out of Jayce, relishing in each inclited moan and plea from the lacrosse player. To Jayce, each collision against his prostate feels like winning at the slot machines. One final thrust grants Jayce with the jackpot win, as he climaxes and coats Viktor’s torso in cum. Viktor follows afterwards and grunts, spilling his cum into the condom.

“Congratulations,” Viktor lets out a pant, rubbing circular motions with his thumbs against Jayce’s aides, “You just lost your anal virginity.”

Jayce tries to reply, but all that comes out of his mouth is incoherent babbles of pleasure subsiding. With Viktor’s assistance, he carefully slides off Viktor’s dick and promptly collapses on the bed beside him, his poor hole throbbing. Viktor removes the condom from his now flaccid cock and ties it shut; he tosses it into the small trash can and eyes you up, “I think he might be done for the night.”

“I’m not!” Jayce refutes, “See, look!” he gestures to his cock, still hard. 

“Jesus Christ, did someone spike your drink with Viagra? How are you still hard?” you sputter, “This calls for drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures?” questions Viktor. 

“I’m gonna milk that cock,” you proclaim.

You and Viktor swap places while Jayce regains his energy for another fuck. Engulfing Jayce in a side hug, you quietly hum to him, “What position do you wanna do? I’m a fan of missionary and doggy style.” 

“Can we do doggy style?” he requests.

You snicker, “You’re not gonna be beating the golden retriever boy allegations anytime soon,” you roll over and get on your hands and knees, “I’m all yours for the taking, Golden Boy.”

Jayce rises up from the bed and gets behind you, your ass hitched up and slick leaking down your inner thighs. He gropes your ass a bit and gives it a few smacks as playback, “Nice,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“Are you gonna keep admiring me or are you gonna fuck me already?” you sway your hips at Jayce, his cock twitching hard. Viktor tosses him an unused condom and Jayce rolls the rubber over the entirety of his shaft. Now properly prepared, he lines his dick up to your entrance and rubs it with the tip, making sure you’re wet enough for him to enter. You let out a low whine and Jayce takes it as a sign to slide in, doing so methodically and with as much gentleness as he could muster. 

“So big…” you mewl, taking each inch of Jayce’s length like a trooper. By the time he finally bottoms out, there’s a noticeable bulge by the lower half of your stomach. Jayce caresses your stomach and finds the bulge, silently gawking at the sheer power of his size. On the other hand, you’re able to faint if Jayce Talis doesn’t fuck you yet, so you take matters into your own hands and pull back a bit on his cock before smacking your bottom against it. Jayce snaps into focus and grabs your hips, digging his nails into your supple flesh. His chest presses up against your back and he groans in your ear, “Eager, aren’t you?”

“Says the guy who just lost his virginity five minutes ago,” you fire back. Jayce responds with a sharp thrust and you replace your sass with a shameless moan. The frat bro starts thrusting in and out, making small modifications to his movements that incite the biggest reaction from you. Jayce finds it very hard not to pin you down and fuck the life out of you, he’s a gentleman like his mamá raised him to be. However, you’re more than willing to get the life fucked out of you, as you beg to Jayce, “Please! Fuck me, fuck me like an animal! I want you to destroy my cunt!”

All logic, all reason, went out the window the moment you tell Jayce to destroy your cunt. He buries your face into the bedsheets and latches a hand onto one of your tit while the other locks around your waist. You realize what a big man Jayce Talis is when he pins you, easily trapping you under his size. The sound of skin slapping against skin and filthy moans fill the bedroom, as Jayce growls to you, “You want me to destroy your cunt, huh?” 

Smack! 

“You want me to bruise that cervix of you, make you unable to walk for days?”

Smack! Smack! 

“I wonder what kind of excuse you would have to use to justify such a prolonged absence.”

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

“Sorry, Professor! I missed last class because Golden Boy Jayce Talis destroyed my tight, little cunt!”

“Jayce, please, please!” you sob against the bedsheets, tears of pleasure and arousal running down your cheeks, “Bruise my cervix! Do whatever you want, just fuck me!”

Jayce grits his teeth and picks up his pace, the bed rocking and creaking with each thrust. He looks over at an awfully quiet Viktor, only to see the stoner stroke himself off at the sight of his best friend getting fucked. That pushes Jayce to the limit and he lifts you up, holding against his body while he relentlessly fucks you. Any noise that comes out of your pretty little mouth is either pitiful cries or moans forced out by Jayce’s pistoning.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” he rasps, as his third orgasm of the night builds up, “Want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Yes!” you wail. In a flash, Jayce flips you over so you’re facing him and his lips clash against yours, a passionate kiss to silence his orgasmic moans while he climaxes. Near the desk, Viktor climaxes, as well, covering his mouth with his hand to suppress his moans. Your walls clench around Jayce’s shaft and you keep him inside your pussy until you milk every last drop from his beast of a cock. 

Finally flaccid, Jayce pulls out of your cunt and falls exhausted by your side, completely drained. Viktor joins the two of you on the bed and snuggles up close to your left while you rub Jayce’s back on your right. 

“That was so hot,” comments Viktor.

“Agree,” you tack on.

Jayce mumbles something against the bedsheets, but neither you nor Viktor can decipher what he says. You turn on your side and hug Jayce from behind, “Congratulations on losing your virginity, we’ll get you an ice cream cake to celebrate it tomorrow.”

“Yay…” he weakly cheers, “I love ice cream cake,” you chuckle quietly and kiss his back a few times, “Good job, very good job.”

“Hey, where’s my aftercare?” Viktor mockingly frowns. You pull away from Jayce and kiss him on the lips; you then pull away and pinch his cheeks, “Ouch!” he hisses, “You’re a dick.”

“And you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world!” you tease. Viktor rolls his eyes and sets back into the bed. With a handsome boy on each side of you, you smile fondly to yourself and bask in the glory. 

“We’re definitely doing this again.”

[inkedinshadows]

Say My Name

Day 12: Hate fuck — Eris x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, one instance of name calling, language

Word count: 2.354

A/N: ahhh I'm so excited for this one! It's actually the first Eris fic I've ever written (before the one for day 8) and I had so much fun. It's probably my favorite out of all kinktober fics!

As the emissary of the Night Court, you often had to deal with members of other courts, some more polite than others. And though you loved your job for the most part, you had come to hate when you had to meet with Eris Vanserra, which happened a bit too frequently since Rhysand had agreed to help him scheme against his own father.

You despised the male.

Eris was nothing but an arrogant, self-assured prick who thought he was better than anyone else. But even more than that, you hated the way your body reacted to him. You always had to keep a few feet of distance if you didn’t want anything inconvenient going on between your legs.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes at that familiar voice as you closed the door behind you. Your meetings took place in a small, abandoned cabin Azriel had found along the border between the Winter and the Autumn Court. It was a single room with a small bed in one corner, a few kitchen counters on the opposite wall and a table with two chairs at the center of the space. Not much, but perfect for secret meetings.

Eris was currently leaning against one of the dusty counters, arms crossed over his muscular chest, scowling at you.

Forcing yourself to meet his gaze and not stare at the way his brown tunic perfectly hugged his biceps, you shrugged irreverently. “I’m here now, so let’s get this over with. The less I see you, the better.”

His jaw ticked. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“And?” You took a few steps forward, leaning against the table to mimic his position. “I had better things to do, Vanserra.”

Not exactly true. You had arrived late because you wanted to. You relished the sight of his anger, savoring the knowledge that you could get on his nerves so easily. The thought of him growing impatient while he waited for you to show up brought a little smile to your lips, especially since you knew that he needed the Night Court’s help more than you needed his.

Eris pushed off the counter and stalked toward you, his arms now at his side. You kept your eyes on his face, watching as that dormant fire power inside him sparked to life in his gaze. All of a sudden, you were breathing slightly faster.

“Allow me to make one thing clear, darling,” he drawled, stopping mere inches from you. You cringed at the pet name, though something fluttered deep in your stomach as he continued. “This is not a game. I don’t care what you or your preening High Lord and his oh-so-perfect friends believe about me. He promised his help.”

His hands were on the table behind you now, trapping you between the furniture and his body. He leaned closer, his scent engulfing you, until he was snarling directly in your face. “So if you can’t even bother to show up on time to do your job, tell him to send someone else. Someone professional.”

You were supposed to snap, to put him in his place, to yell and get angry at him. And deep down you were. After all, he had just insulted your friends and family, and not so subtly called you incompetent. But he was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your face and his chest brushing against yours with every inhale.

And then you made the stupid mistake of glancing down at his lips.

You didn’t know what happened next. You didn’t know who moved first. But one moment you were glaring at each other, and the next it was a whirlwind of tongues and teeth as your mouths collided.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. Eris groaned, you moaned, both of you tried to take the lead and not submit to the other. But then he pushed you back against the table, his hips flush with yours, and suddenly there was just the hard bulge in his pants pressing against you.

Eris slid one of his hands in your hair to tilt your head back, drawing a whimper from you and exposing your neck for him to bite.

“Is this what you want?” he growled in between nips that you knew would leave a red mark. “Is this why your thighs clench together so often when you’re around me?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” you grumbled, not caring how he had noticed that detail. All you wanted was to feel him, to give in to this unwelcome desire just for once, hoping it would be enough to make it go away. The wrongness of it all, the hate you harbored for each other, should have been a deterrent, but it only fueled your need instead.

Your fingers were on his pants, making quick work of undoing the buttons. Before you could go any further than that, you yelped as Eris spun you around and unceremoniously bent you over the table.

You turned your head toward him. “What are you—”

“Shut up,” he snarled in your ear. “I’m giving you what you’re too ashamed to ask for yourself.”

You didn’t know how to answer that. You did want this, and your pride stopped you from admitting it out loud. But shame? You weren’t ashamed of how you felt. You simply hated it with all your being.

“You’re so wet already,” he drawled, brushing its tip on your clit. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

Eris didn’t give you the time to come up with a different answer than another grumbled ‘shut up’. Your skirt was already being pushed up around your waist, your panties dropped to your ankles, and a moment later the head of his cock rubbed against your folds, making you both groan.

“Eris…” you whined. You didn’t even care how desperate and needy your voice sounded anymore. You just wanted to feel him inside you.

But he stopped and pulled away. His mouth was at your ear again, his breath hot on your skin. “How did you call me, sweetheart?”

You froze too as realization hit you. He had always been Vanserra to you. You had never uttered his name in front of him, just like he had never said yours. It just slipped out in the heat of the moment, and you certainly wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I thought that was your name,” you replied, your voice going back to the scornful note it always carried when talking to him.

“It is.” Eris ran his hands along your body, and his tone became demanding. “Say it again.”

“No.”

He grabbed your hips, fingers digging in enough to bruise. “Say it.”

“Fuck you,” you spat. You wanted to turn around and give him one of your disdainful glares, but he was leaning over you, pressing you between his chest and the wooden surface beneath you.

“Oh, darling, I will fuck you.” You felt him smile against your ear. “And you will be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you.”

The words were already on your lips. Like hell I will. You opened your mouth to say just that, but a cry came out instead as Eris pushed his cock inside you with a single thrust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pounding into you.

“Fuck, you feel better than I thought…” he sputtered, nibbling on your earlobe. “Tight little cunt squeezing me just right.”

Every thought or concern faded from your mind at the punishing rhythm he set. There was only the heavy drag of his cock sliding in and out of you, and when he lifted himself off you and stood to his full height behind you, the new angle allowed him to hit your most sensitive spot just right.

“Say my name.”

Eyes closed, mind foggy, you somehow managed to bite out, “No.”

His hand fisted your hair to pull your head back. You groaned, your back arching off the table, holding on to the edge hard enough that your knuckles were white.

“I want to fucking hear it,” he panted, each word accentuated by a thrust that made your eyes roll back.

But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, not even now. Your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let you go farther than letting him fuck you over a table.

“Keep fucking dreaming, Vanserra.”

Apparently, it wasn’t the right answer. His grip on your hair and hip only tightened and he slammed harder inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, but at least he didn’t ask again and neither of you said anything more. The only sounds that could be heard were moans and groans—yours or his, you could no longer tell—, the wet noise of his cock sliding in your dripping cunt, and the occasional creaking of the table beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long you kept going. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, and it would have made no difference at all: by the time you were reaching your climax, you were so fucked out it was hard to breathe or think straight. And Eris probably noticed it too, because he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest.

He let go of your hair only to tease your clit, gently drawing circles around it as he let up a bit until he was thrusting at a torturously slow rhythm. Your release had been so close, yet it was slipping away.

“Will you say my name now, darling?” he murmured in your ear. “Then you can come.”

You didn’t know why it mattered so much to him, but you were too lost in the pleasure, your mind too hazy to even try and fight him this time. “Eris,” you mumbled softly.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes closing again when his fingers moved a bit faster on your clit. You were ready to come, and you waited for him to pick up the pace, but his thrusts remained too slow, too gentle.

“A little louder, sweetheart,” he ordered. “I couldn’t hear you.”

You sighed, the sound a perfect mix of frustration and bliss, and squirmed in his arms to try and get more than what he was giving.

Eris simply stopped what he was doing. His hand left your clit and he pulled out until only the tip of his cock was still inside you. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

“Eris, please…” you whined, loud enough that he couldn’t complain about not hearing it.

“You said my name and you’re begging?” His teeth grazed your neck. “Now, that’s a good little slut.”

You should be outraged, ashamed, shoving him away after such an insult, and a small part of you was, because you breathed out, “I fucking hate you.” It didn’t come out as angrily as you intended, though, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You weren’t even sure you said that because of the insult or to try to preserve some semblance of dignity.

Eris had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, I know you do, darling. I bet you also hate how good my cock feels inside you.”

He pushed you back down over the table, his hands finding their place on your hips as he finally thrust back into you.

“But I don’t see you complain about that,” he growled just before he began to relentlessly pound into you.

If possible, he was fucking you even harder and more roughly than before. Your cheek was pressed against the wood, and soon your legs were shaking, barely able to hold you up. Moan after moan tumbled out of your mouth, each one louder than before, until Eris slammed into you particularly deep and you screamed his name as your orgasm barreled through you.

His thrusts became frantic, his grip firmer, and it was only a matter of seconds before he came with a groan, filling you with his warm seed, your walls still clenching around him.

For a moment, you were both still. You were panting, body slick with sweat, and when Eris at last pulled out, you felt his absence inside you. But you would be damned if you let even the slightest whimper leave your lips now. Instead, you stood up straight as if that obnoxious desire had been sated rather than fed.

You pulled your panties back up and fixed your skirts, trying to ignore the remnants of your combined releases smeared over your inner thighs. You fixed your hair with your hands as best you could, and only then did you turn to face Eris.

He was watching you with a smirk on his annoyingly beautiful face. He looked as if nothing had happened—perfect hair, smoothed tunic, pants already buttoned up.

“What?” you snapped.

“I told you you’d scream my name and you did, didn’t you?” He prowled closer, reaching out a hand as if he wanted to touch you. “Just like I said.”

You batted his hand away and took a step back, arms crossed over your chest. “So what? It doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

“Good. Because I hate you just as much.”

“Good.”

You stared each other down for a whole minute before you crumbled and looked away. You swore you could see a smug smile appear on his face, but it was gone by the time you glanced back at him.

“This was a horrible mistake,” you sighed. You aimed for the door. “It will never happen again.”

Eris only smirked. “We’ll see.”

You winnowed away before you could punch him on that marked beautiful jaw of his. Only later did you realize you hadn’t asked why he had called for a meeting in the first place.

But Eris had been right, as it turned out. Because you still had to meet with him, and it did happen again. And again. And again. Until you didn’t fight it anymore.

Until you came to love the way Eris Vanserra hated you.

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[ylangelegy]

unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.

madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.

★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡

Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.

It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.

Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.

This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.

But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.

That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.

Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.

"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.

Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."

Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.

You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.

This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.

You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.

You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.

When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.

His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.

"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."

You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"

Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.

Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.

Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"

"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"

"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"

"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"

"Okay, enough!"

Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.

No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.

It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.

You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.

As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.

Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.

Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.

He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.

You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.

It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.

"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.

The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.

"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.

"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."

Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.

He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.

With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.

"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."

There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."

He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"

You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.

"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"

Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.

"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."

Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.

Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.

"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.

There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.

In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.

He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.

The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.

When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.

"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."

You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.

His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.

It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.

Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.

In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.

But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.

The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?

Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.

As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.

"Enough."

The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.

"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.

Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."

A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.

Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.

… Right?

He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."

Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.

You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.

"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.

At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.

"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"

There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."

Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.

You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.

The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."

Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"

"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.

You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."

His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—

He finds that his words are just out of reach.

Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?

There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.

He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.

Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."

Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."

Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.

"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Same time?"

"Got it."

You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.

He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.

"Kim Mingyu."

He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.

The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.

Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.

"Thank you," you say.

Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.

His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.

What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."

He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!

He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.

And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.

Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.

He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.

[hellishjoel]

ungodly and unprofessional

5.6k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist | Notifications Blog

summary: who said anything about falling in love? you're just co-workers. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), smoking, descriptions of food and drink, reader is described to have hair (not descriptive of what color/length/etc.) and wears a waitress uniform, explicit smut, consensual somnophilia, swearing, pet names, allusions to bad parenting/parental abuse, descriptions of a parent abusing drugs and alcohol (please heed these warnings and do not read if you are concerned these may be triggers), lastly not beta'd (lmk if you're interested!) A/N: five or six months later, who really knows. believe it or not, I was never not working on this or thinking about it for all of those months... which is crazy. I completely wing these chapters which is probably why it takes so long but you guys don't mind, right? enjoy these cuties falling deeper <3 I almost forgot - shoutout to BistroHuddy on TikTok because one of their segments inspired something in here (but no spoilers!)

“To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy-Ray Belcourt. 

You have this silly poetry book someone gave you as a birthday present or holiday gift exchange a few years ago. You’ve never picked it up until now. You’re shocked to say all of these cheesy love quotes and poems make you think of one very specific person: a guy with dark curls, a scruffy beard, amber eyes, and the perfect smile. Francisco. 

Falling for a man like Frankie feels like growing up— a sign of maturing compared to the ghosts of terrible boyfriend's past. 

Come to find out, it’s easier to go for the wrong guys, easier on your heart in a way — you don’t feel like you are actually losing anything. 

That’s why you would bet on losing dogs. Invest your emotions and need for romance in those who don’t reciprocate. The ones who despise commitment or lack emotional availability leave you in a state of disappointment. 

Better that than full-blown heartache. Better than ripping yourself open at the seams for another, only to be the one to sew yourself back up again. But not better than winning. 

The letter Frankie’s father sent him weeks ago had been burned into your brain. Every single word, each break of a new paragraph, lines of apologies, and convincing stories of ‘the good times’ they used to have. 

Frankie appeared to be just as wary about the letter as you were, neither of you so easily trusting. Frankie didn’t trust his father, but you did trust Frankie—end of story. 

You’ve never known Frankie to be so tightly closed about something that bothers him. He was the type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve, an open book. 

Aside from allowing you to read the letter, you two have barely spoken about it. And not due to your lack of trying. 

There wasn’t a need for you to bring clarity to the situation, it wasn’t up to you to encourage Frankie to allow his father back into his life. But there was still a lot of emotional trauma that he carried that he didn’t have to bear alone. You just wanted him to know that you support him in whatever avenue he decides is best. 

To forgive or to forget. 

Frankie releases a sigh from his parted lips, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as your alarm chimes from your phone on the bedside table. He hates the fucking morning shift. 

The air is sticky and thick, and the fan on his bedroom ceiling is doing little to help. Late August is still taking its toll on Texas and its residents, but he’s reminded that this time last year, he sunk down on his knees in the back kitchen and tasted you on his tongue for the first time. Can’t believe it’s been a year since then. Plus all the events that have transpired since. 

There’s no label between you two other than the fact you are exclusive— putting your focus on each other and not seeing other people. It was good, better than nothing with you. 

His eyelashes finally flutter open, seeing you shift in the dark to turn off the alarm, only to dig your face deep into your pillow. He thinks you’re fucking adorable. 

Frankie is by no means a morning person, but waking up beside you has changed his perspective. Your hair is a scattered mess, the ponytail having fallen loose in the tosses and turns of last night. The sunlight peaking through the blinds highlights the slope of your nose and Cupid’s bow. Arms tucked into your front, leg hiked up like a ballerina.

His mind starts to swirl at the conversation you shared recently, that you wanted to try something… new. To be surprised. To be taken by him in your sleep. 

He was shocked to hear you say it, all shy and meek - it’s not a side of you he sees often. But it’s the vulnerability talking, advocating the trust you share together. 

“I want to wake up with you inside me.”

Frankie had to blink a few times, his large hand cradling your jaw as you spoke in whispers between the sheets. “You— I didn’t know you’d be into that sort of thing.”

“We don’t have to if it’s not your thing. But there’s something about you moving me where you want me to be, being completely under your control, even a little helpless,” you pause, uncertain if your words would scare him off. 

The exact opposite. Frankie was intrigued. 

“The thrill of trying not to wake you up.” He continues, watching your glowing smile return, indicating that Frankie understands why this would feel good to you. 

“My natural reaction, trusting you, knowing that you’ll be careful, knowing that you’re using me— it’s hot, Frankie. You have my consent, I wanna try.” 

Frankie’s stomach churns with excitement, butterflies spreading through his abdomen and up to his chest, his heart thunking eagerly. 

He was slow and methodical, not wanting you to stir from your sleepy state. Nipping at his lower lip, teeth piercing the skin, he works up the courage to touch you. A rough and calloused hand travels up your side, pushing up your sleep tee and watching goosebumps line the tips of his fingers.

Frankie presses slow kisses to the top of your shoulder, feeling his cock swell against the plump of your ass in all of the excitement. He whispers your name, soft and raspy with the morning hour. Other than a small twitch of your nose, you’re out cold. 

“Shh, s’okay angel, m’gonna make you feel good.” The desire stirs in his stomach, urging him to please you in your sleep just like you asked. 

With two crooked fingers, he curls them around the band of your panties and slowly drags them down your soft thighs. You let out a slow sigh between your parted lips, Frankie pausing to watch as you settle once more. 

 Slipping two skilled fingers between your legs, he slowly massages up and down your folds. He’s surprised to already feel the slick between your legs, a low groan of approval leaving the depths of his throat. 

There’s a shift, your hips squirming for more of his touch. You’re so perfectly pliant for him, causing the embers low in his belly to grow with anticipation, the blood rushing to his cock as it hardens against the curve of your ass. 

“Good girl,” he remarks as you let out a little whimper upon the pads of Frankie’s fingers finding your swollen clit. “Even asleep, you’re nice and wet for me, princess.” 

Goddammit, he thinks, how does she have this much of an effect while perfectly asleep? He can’t stand the feeling of not touching her, the carnal need to take her was strong like a magnet, forcing their bodies together. 

One yank and he was out of his briefs, chewing on his lower lip in concentration. He needed to move you, to perfectly fit in the nook of your body, you’d have to be good and yield to him. 

Frankie hikes up your leg and fills in the spaces between your bodies, stroking over himself as he slowly lines his leaking tip along your entrance. Just as he notches his tip inside, a quiet and sleepy gasp leaves your perfect pillowy lips. 

“Right there, baby, you just stay right there for me,” Frankie growls against your ear, his hips flush with yours as he slowly lets inch by inch of him be swallowed by your warm cunt. 

After that, there wasn’t a lot of nicety to him. The level of control he carried was lost. He just wanted to take and take, feel and fuck. He wants to use you like his own personal toy; do whatever he pleases with no resistance. You were his to devour. 

He’s still inside you, but he’s gotten this far, and you’re still out. Even in sleep, you’re pulsing around his cock, so fucking tight around him that it steals the air from his lungs. There’s a hint of discomfort in your face, a quiet gasp held within your expression. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, the hand he holds firmly on your hip now moving under your sleep tee. 

You were so fucking accessible to him, so beautiful, so peaceful being fucked raw. 

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, getting the reaction he’s been waiting for all morning. A sweet, slow moan tumbles loose from your throat, your hips reeling back to grind against Frankie’s lap. 

He’s somewhat pleased he knows you this well, knows what gets you worked up and gushing. The fact that even in your sleep, you have this reaction towards him makes the fire burning inside his abdomen grow. Maybe a deep part of him gets off on knowing you so well. 

Frankie lets out a sigh at his own thoughts, lightly nipping the skin of your exposed shoulder as he slowly rolls his hips back and glides in again, feeling the drag of your tight pussy keeping him lubed up and warm.

If he weren’t so desperate to fuck you, he’d love to just sit inside you like this all goddamn day. It would probably give him the same comfort as the first cup of coffee. 

He gives your breast one more firm squeeze before returning the attention back to your clit, all desperate and tingling with each eager circle he gives you. 

“So fucking perfect,” he whispers against your ear, his hips continuing at a steady pace until he simply needs more. He hikes up your leg once again to allow himself more movement, smirking as your ass smacks against the front of his hips with each thrust that now jostles your body. 

You’ll surely wake any moment, shocked and sleepy and startled at his cock so deep inside your perfectly spent cunt. 

You whimper each time he fills you, your face digging into the pillow as you moan against the cover. Frankie’s efforts grow needy and demanding, fisting your hair out of his way as he sucks marks into your neck; teeth and tongue massaging the skin before leaving a bruise in its wake.

A sweet little sob exits your parted lips, Frankie groaning at the pretty little noises you make. 

“Take me so well, princess. You want me to keep fuckin’ you, huh?” He snarls against your neck, smirking as you hiss at the sensations you’re feeling all throughout your body.  

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. They absorb the settings around you and it all clicks. A long, desperate moan crawls from the depths of your throat, your movements sluggish but your hand eventually clasps onto Frankie’s forearm, his fingers still swirling around your clit. 

“Ohmy— Frankie, fuck,” you gasp as you feel the full force of his cock drilling deep inside your pussy. Your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes cloudy with lust, and skin-prickling sensations that you had never felt before; a million emotions, but the standout being desperation to come undone like this with a man you trust. 

“This what you wanted, angel? Wake up with my cock stuffed between your legs?” Frankie smirks as he presses his lips against your cheek, jaw dropping against your own as you ride out the high together. 

You cry out something wrecked, a garble of syllables as your spine arches against his front. You weren’t given the pleasure of feeling the orgasm build and build; you woke up at its high heat. 

In an instant, your skin was clammy, hair sticking to your skin as desperate pants filled the room, along with broken moans of Frankie’s name. 

It’s exactly what you wanted, maybe better. Yes, way better. 

You’re so tight, literally clinging to every single inch he gives you as your slick drenches his cock. Your nails dig into his tan skin, feeling the muscles and tendons work to play with your clit. 

A whimper leaves you as the warmth in your stomach boils over, turning your head over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are dark, cast over with lust as he stole you in your sleep. In an instant, he meets you with a messy kiss, your bodies and the bed still jolting with each rough thrust he gives you. 

“Please,” you moan against his lips, nodding your head as you look into his eyes. “Come inside me, I wanna feel it, please, give it to me, Frankie,” your words turn into a whine as he begins to fuck you harder, deeper, his tip tickling your cervix as you damn near blackout from the pleasure. 

The pleasure inside of you finally reaches the surface. The feeling was like a wave breaching over your rocky shores, washing over you both in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his thick cock. 

Frankie spoils your clit as his hips snap against your ass, one, two, three more times before the feeling of you overcomes him. He braces you tightly in his arms, panting against your shoulder, eyes clenching closed as he lets out broken grunts of release. He paints your insides with his spend, both of you relaxing in one another’s hold as you slowly descend from heaven. 

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie breathes, shaking his head with a tilted smirk. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He remarks as you look over your shoulder in a haze. 

You whimper as you pull him in closer, fingers weaving into the curls at the back of his head and encouraging him to meet your parted lips. 

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive. 

Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find.

Both roles are downright frightening. 

You’re risking everything, the biggest gamble one can make without physical currency. 

But he sees the panic behind your eyes, the nervewracking feeling of saying the sacred words to someone, maybe even for the first time. And he knows that they will be worth it to hear. 

“I know,” he whispers against your lips, shaking his head in a way that tells you he knows what you’re thinking. “I know.” 

You don’t attend church, so you have one question: why the fuck is God sending people to get brunch after Sunday’s service? Why is that their beck and call? 

Every Sunday morning, like clockwork, a flock of people flood the diner with their church clothes and a hankering for waffles and Frankie’s house lumberjack skillet (you wanna know what’s in it, don’t you?)

Frankie’s Secret Ingredients:

Potatoes: 1/4 lb (about 4-5 small potatoes)

Olive Oil: 1/2 tablespoon

Breakfast Sausage Links: 3 oz (about 4 links)

Onion: 1/8 of a whole onion, chopped

Red Pepper: 1/4 of a whole red pepper, chopped

Jalapenos: 1/2 jalapeno, sliced (omit if person looks too old to handle)

Butter: 1 tablespoon

Hickory Maple Seasoning: 1/2 teaspoon

Eggs: 2 large eggs

Milk: 1 tablespoon

Cheddar Cheese: 2 tablespoons, shredded

Anyway, Tommy’s Diner is slammed by mid-morning, and you’re working up a sweat. You’re wiping at your neck and forehead every few minutes, and the sun filtering through the windows does little justice to cool your skin. Tina called out sick, which is code for hungover from Saturday. It’s overwhelming. Your brain feels like the scrambled eggs you just plated for that family of four.

“Enjoy,” you whisper a little breathlessly, tucking your notepad into the front of your apron, rubbing at your temple with the heel of your hand as you walk past the rest of your tables. 

By the time you lift your head, you see a large potbelly man who is waving an arm up above his head, fingers already snapping incessantly. He looked like a chubby rat, with a large dark-haired mustache and a shirt that didn’t fully cover the beer gut he was sporting.

“Uhm, hello? Miss, can we get some service over here?” 

Jesus fucking Christ. Your jaw tightens a few notches, pushing your hair out of your face and wrapping around to their table. You remember them; you took their table’s order a bit ago now - shit, did you forget their plates? No, you didn’t. 

Stopping at the head of their table, you smile politely at the large family. 

“Hi, can I get you something while you wait?”

The man scoffs and snaps, “Uh, yeah, our food.”

Taking a deep breath wasn’t enough; you were a ticking time bomb. “Sir, do you see how many people are in the diner? We’re at capacity with a line out the door. I understand you’ve been waiting, but our kitchen is backed up and-” 

“Bull-honkey-bullcrap, little miss,” the man raises his voice, spitting violently with each syllable, “This is ridiculous! We’ve been sittin’ here for nearly an hour. How hard is it to make some eggs and Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh? You just that stupid? What the hell is goin’ on back there? Are you people completely incompetent, or are you just ignorin’ us?”

Worse things have been said to your face, but you’re at your breaking point. You can feel your face flush with warmth radiating throughout your body. Now, the entire diner is staring at you from all the commotion. Your lungs feel tight, a headache casting heavy behind your face. Tears line your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. 

“Again, I’m really sorry, but like I said, the kitchen is backed up.” But apologizing isn’t enough. This guy just wanted someone to take his punches. 

“Don’t even try to apologize. I don’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses. How hard is it to cook some damn eggs? This place is a joke. You must be the worst server I’ve ever dealt with. ‘Nd I swear, if I wanted this kind of useless service, I’d go to a fast food joint. Is this how you treat payin’ customers, or ya’ll just this lazy? Do your job, or I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you and this diner is.”

You clutch the empty coffee pot tightly, biting your tongue. Turning swiftly, you head straight for the back swinging door. You don't intend to contribute to the chaos or the bustling mess in the kitchen, but here, in the safety of the back section, you allow a few stray tears to escape.

Shoulder blades hitting the cold brick, you wish to blend into the wall. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of you, your chest heavy and tight. Every sound around you blurs as the man’s harsh words replay in your mind, louder and louder each time. Your hands shake just enough to want to hide them behind your back, feeling afraid to have eyes on you in such a vulnerable state. Exposed. You’ve absorbed the anger meant for something or someone else, so now, it sticks to you, something you can’t wash away. 

Your name echoes once, twice. 

“Hey,” A calm amongst the rushing waves - it’s Frankie. You blink him into focus, bleary tears slowly fading away. His red bandana is tied tight around his forehead to catch the sweat from his forehead and hair. His face is laced with concern. He wipes his hands off on his apron, gently capturing your face as he shields you from the rest of the kitchen. 

And just like that, life returns to your body. You can feel the tips of your fingers, previously tingling, wiping under your eyes as you hiccup through your breaths. Frankie knows this high-traffic area will only make your anxiety worse. 

“It’s okay, take a deep breath and tell me what happen.”

The eyes of the kitchen staff are slowly starting to turn to you, asking if you’re alright and why you’re upset. Shaking your head dismissively, you blink away your tears and look down at the grubby floor that probably hasn’t been mopped since the invention of flip phones. 

“I’m fine. This customer just got pissed and yelled at me. He was upset that his food was running behind, and I tried to explain that the kitchen was backed up.” You part your lips to continue, but the jaw drops of the kitchen staff signal shock by your words. 

They all start honking in unison like a flock of geese. 

“He what?”

“Which fuckin’ table?”

“You okay, sweetheart? Fuck them.” 

Frankie's back straightens stiff, having previously been craning to see your face, now strict with annoyance. 

“Is that him?” Frankie asks as he walks to the window between the kitchen and the back counter, narrowing his eyes on the rat man and his family. 

“Frankie, please don't,” you huff, already refilling your pots of coffee and hoping to just forget the whole thing ever happened. "It's okay, it happens."

But it’s not okay. Because this guy made you cry, and what the hell was it for? Some scrambled eggs and bacon on delay?

The rest of the line cooks have abandoned their food to gawk at the asshole who thinks he can get away with yelling at one of their own like that. 

Frankie tightens his bandana and peels off his gloves, slapping them down in the trash. 

His boots thunder across the linoleum, catching the attention of many of the patrons on his way to the booth by the window where the rat man has continued to reside angrily. Even worse, he chuckles at the sight of Frankie. 

“Take a load of this guy," the rat man appears to mutter to his wife who looks between them both with startled eyes. "Okay, okay, just bring back the pretty waitress. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.” He sneers, shaking his head. 

“No, you’re done with her. You’re dealin’ with me now.” Frankie snags an empty chair from a nearby table, turns it around, and straddles the seat as he gets in the burly man's face. 

“I just feel terrible that we’re not meeting the quality of service you expected. So what exactly is the problem?” Frankie asks with a hint of venom lining his words. 

“Well- we’ve been waitin’ here for half an hour and-”

“Right, and what did the pretty waitress say?”

The man scoffs lightly, feeling embarrassed with all the eyes on him not once but twice now. “Well, she said the kitchen was backed up.”

“That’s right, that’s right, well, I’m the fuckin’ kitchen. You wanna yell at someone? Well, I thought I’d give you the chance to yell at me since, hey, I'm in charge of the kitchen today. Please, tell me your honest review.”

The rat man stares blankly, looking from left to right in surprise, but his family all gawks at Frankie. 

Frankie waits, eyes unblinking, face hardened as the man sputters up something weak in response. 

“This is ungodly and unprofessional,” he gargles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You’re absolutely right!” Frankie says, smacking the table with his closed fist before pointing at the rat man, the tip of his finger inches from his face. “I am unprofessional, but that’s because I don’t have the great customer service skills of our waitresses. That’s her job,” Frankie juts a thumb backward towards the kitchen in your direction. “So now, instead of cookin’ you and your ugly wife and kids some food, I gotta come out here and knock some sense into ya since you seemed to have lost your manners. So you gonna let her do her job so I can get back to mine?”

You can only watch from the window in shock, hand over mouth, unblinking eyes - but it’s like a car crash you can’t look away from. The man is shocked into an embarrassed silence. 

“We’ll just… we’ll wait. There’s-uh-there’s a lotta people here.” 

Frankie sighs and smiles with fake relief. He stands from the chair, looking around the quiet restaurant. 

“Anybody else have somethin' they wanna say?”

They all seem too scared of Frankie to complain again to the psycho chef. Chants of ‘Everything’s great!’ or “Thank you!” echo through the dining room. 

You smile warmly, forcing yourself to turn away from the scene and clean up your teary makeup in the bathroom. But all you can think about is Frankie. Francisco. Stupid Catfish. Stepping in like that to protect you, to make that jerk take accountability. It makes your heart flutter knowing how much he cares. And you feel the same way.

It’s about time you tell him. 

Knuckles wrap against the bathroom door, and an echo of, “You okay?” follows. 

He comes in without a response, somewhat relieved to find you adjusting your hair and wiping at the smeary makeup. Your eyes soften at the sight of him, watching in the reflection. He looks disheveled and annoyed, shaking his head as he starts ranting about rat man. 

“I don’t get how people like that- the God-loving church people- come in here and act like they weren’t just told at a sermon to love thy neighbor or whatever bullshit.”

He continues, but all you do is stare.

A part of you thinks he defends others due to his childhood. No one picks on the people Frankie cares about. That letter riled him up, maybe more than either of you had realized. He’s thinking about those times of the past, the innocent hurt by the deviant. 

“You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry, he’s a fucking dick. You don’t have to take his food out, I’ll do it. Honey,” he breathes, hand resting on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. “Are you mad at me? I know you told me not to go out there, but no one makes you cry if I can help it, y’know? I don’t want him to think he can get away with that.”

Once Frankie starts ranting, it’s really hard to get him to stop. 

“Frankie,” you breathe out, resting your hand over the one he holds on your shoulder. 

“I mean, does he really think that it’s smart to be rude to the staff? I’ll spit in his food, and it will feel really good because he’ll have no idea.”

“Frankie,”

“You’re a good fucking waitress! Doesn’t he see the entire breakfast bar and all the booths filled with guests? The line out the door wasn’t an indication of how busy it is? Get a fuckin’ brain, I mean-”

In an instant, you tilt your chin up, catching his gaze just long enough to see the shift in his eyes before your lips meet. Your hands slide around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft curls at the nape, gently tugging him down toward you. The kiss begins with an urgency, part playful, part to silence his words, but mostly, it's to thank him in a way that words never could.

Frankie’s initial surprise fades quickly as he melts into you, his breath hitching for a moment. His hands travel to your waist, sliding around until they lock just above your hips, anchoring you to him. He presses closer, his touch firm yet tender, and slows the kiss, savoring the warmth of your lips. You feel the way his body relaxes, how he leans in, letting the world around you both fall away as he holds you, close and unmoving, like he’s never letting go.

It takes every ounce of courage in your body to pull away, your lips lingering against his for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as if tethered by an invisible force. Slowly, you break the kiss, your breath shaky, heart racing. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, his eyes still half-closed, unaware of the words hanging on the edge of your lips.

You gently pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers still laced in his hair, trembling slightly. His eyes search yours, soft and expectant, filled with something unspoken but unmistakable.

With a deep inhale, you let the words slip out, vulnerable and raw, barely louder than a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

“I love you.”

The world stands still as the words hang in the air, your heart pounding as you wait for the weight of what you’ve just said to settle between you.

And then he smiles like an idiot. And you’re joining him. 

“Did you say what I think you said? Did you say that you love me?" His voice is soft, teasing, as he presses his forehead against yours, capturing your lips with a few playful, quick kisses between his words. “Come on, say it again.”

You feel your heart flutter, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Frankie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “I heard you say it. Now you can’t take it back,” he adds with a grin, pulling you tighter, his arms leaving no space between you.

You giggle, your hands pushing lightly against his shoulders, though he doesn’t budge. “Stop, that was really hard,” you huff, breathless, as though the words had stolen all the air from your lungs.

Frankie just shakes his head, his smile fading into something softer, more real, as the weight of the moment catches up with him. “I’ve thought about better places or times to tell you this, I wanted to wait until you were ready,” he whispers, his voice hushed with disbelief, eyes locking onto yours, “but I love you more than you’ll ever know. More than you’ll ever understand or dream. I love you.”

His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone, a gentle, affectionate touch that sends shivers down your spine. The intensity in his gaze mirrors your own, both of you lost in this shared vulnerability, your hearts speaking in unison.

“I love you, too,” you breathe, the words falling effortlessly this time, as if they’ve always been waiting for this moment.

So, yeah. You sort of love your co-worker Francisco Morales. 

The sun is blinding—orange and yellow streams of light as it is forced to set along the horizon. It’s slow but noticeable, sinking into the land beyond what you can see.

The sun goes down in Texas once again. 

Frankie raises his cigarette, its glowing tip mirroring the fiery hues of the sunset.

His neighborhood is tranquil, lined with single-story homes and tree-bordered streets where autumn's touch is just around the corner. Children ride bikes, joggers and dog walkers pass by, and new parents push their baby strollers—a picturesque scene that feels meticulously arranged yet somehow distant. Frankie, too, feels out of place here.

"You got pretty worked up today—more than usual," you say softly.

Frankie lets out a dry chuckle, cigarette between his lips as he leans back on his elbows, squinting at the fading sun. "Yeah, maybe. You think I’m off right now?" He tilts his head, genuinely curious, as if searching for what’s changed.

You shrug, glancing at him with a fond smile. "I think that letter from your dad has you more rattled than you realize. I found it in your sock drawer this morning."

Frankie’s gaze drops to his lap, a flicker of shame crossing his face.

"I thought you said you were gonna toss it?" you muse gently, watching as his mind churns, cigarette hovering at his lips before he sighs deeply.

"You’re too observant," he smirks. "I don’t know why I haven’t crumpled, burned, or shredded it into pieces by now. I have every right to."

You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing the tension there. "But you didn’t. Why?"

Frankie bites his lower lip nervously, glancing your way. "At the end of the apology letter, he asked to take me out for my birthday. Put down the time, place—everything. Said he’d wait for me."

Your expression softens, letting him know you’re here, really listening. "And you’re thinking about it?"

"Yeah… I guess so. But I don’t even know what I’d say. I’ve only seen him once or twice since I moved out. It’s been years. And when I do see him, I’m thirteen all over again, just yelling at him, so angry. I see his face, and it’s like a switch flips. And that’s not me. You know that’s not me," Frankie stammers, panic flickering in his eyes.

"I know," you whisper, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He pulls you closer, resting his head against yours as the weight of it all settles.

After a deep breath, Frankie gathers himself. "He used to bring out the worst in me. I don’t know if I still hate him as much. Time’s passed, maybe he’s changed. But I’m not holding my breath."

He’s an adult now, more guarded, wiser to the people who’ve hurt him. He’s fought through battles and traumas you don’t even know about. Yet, in his eyes, there’s a flicker of hope. Maybe his dad has turned a corner, maybe he’s cleaned up, seen his mistakes. But you know better than to trust in maybes.

And you’d protect him from being let down again.

"Do you want me to go with you?" you offer quietly.

Frankie’s eyes snap to yours, wide and searching.

"Okay," he says after a long pause. "Let’s do it."

[koqabear]

song equation for the 2K event!!(congrats🙇)

daniel ceaser, do you like me?+ soobin+ smut= fwb!soobin but he’s your best friend’s ex who she’s still not over😵

♫: Daniel Ceasar, Do You Like Me? // [2K Masterlist]

“Parties aren’t that much fun to attend to anymore, especially when you’re only there to tend to your broken-hearted friend. But there’s always ways to entertain yourself, ways that rely on a certain someone you’re meant to despise.”

soobin x fem!reader // wc: 4.0K // fwb au, angst, college au but it’s not rlly important, smut, MDNI.

warnings: it’s a rlly messy situation, neither soobin or the mc are good people !! mentions of alcohol, dom!soobin, sub!mc, fingering, biting, orgasm control(?), dry humping, breast play, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names (good girl, pretty thing, etc.), cum eating, overstimulation, slight handjob, protected sex (from me??? what.) soobin is big 🥱, slight manhandling? degrading, praise, aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything !

notes: soobin’s a lil sassy in this one idk guys… i dedicate this to a certain someone who challenged me by saying i neglect soobin (i do tbh.) so. this ones for you ‼️🤣 i’ve seriously been wanting to get my hands on this request from the moment i got it, i love this song sm thank you for sending this anon !! ur mind is insane!!!

This is wrong. It’s wrong, horrible, a break of every code that comes with a friendship— but it’s also sweet, enticing, thrilling, feeling as though the breath has been stolen from your lungs as Soobin presses you further against the wall, hands wandering down the hem of your dress and his small, breathy groans enough to drown out the rest of the noise from the party downstairs. 

You didn’t want to be here in the first place; your friend had been the one to drag you here, begging for your company and asking you to be the designated driver as she spent the night drinking and partying her sorrows away— attempting to pretend that she’s fine, that she’s healed, that her heart still isn’t broken by the man whose fingers are trailing up your inner thighs— and you had agreed, telling her that she was better off alone only to slip into some random bedroom with the man you said was definitely not worth her time. 

But he’s worth yours. You wanted him from the very moment you saw him, pining from afar and letting three years pass by as you watched him transform from a shy freshman to what he is now; alluring, addicting, intoxicating, your lips parting with ease and your body left at his mercy as you allow him to kiss, suck, and explore wherever he wants.

It wasn’t your fault you had feelings for him. But it was your fault that you let yourself push those said feelings to the side for your friend, resigned to longing glances and tense interactions whenever you two were alone— of course, it wasn’t long before he picked up on those feelings as well. 

“How long will you be staying tonight?” Soobin whispers teasingly into your ear, pouty lips latching onto the spot just under it; your curl slightly into him at the sensation, hands holding onto his shoulders and your back feeling the slight vibrations that comes from the bass of the music against the wall. But it’s all muffled to you, your hearing only attuned to Soobin’s words and voice, the deep lullaby that teases you for your weakness, “you watching over her this time too?”

“Fuck— yeah,” you admit, feeling a twist of guilt in your stomach, “I’m the designated driver.”

That guilt is immediately wiped out by a harsh pleasure; Soobin’s fingers are slow and lithe as they run up and down your slit, feeling the way your panties become soaked with your arousal; pads of his fingers slowing to press on your clit, your legs spread open by one of his own as he corners you in with ease, continuing to litter kisses along the column of your throat leisurely. 

“Such a shame you’re stuck babysitting her all the time,” he coos softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he’s pushing your panties to the side, feeling the way you shiver at his cold fingers running up and down your folds, collecting the arousal that gathers there before circling at your clit; rubbing in rhythmic circles at an agonizingly slow pace that he knows drives you crazy, holding back a coy smile at the way your brows twitch, hips stuttering toward him in need of more, “If not, I would’ve loved to take you back to my place and fuck you properly.”

His words are dangerous territory. You don’t go to his place, and he certainly doesn’t go to yours— it’s always been like this, secret hookups in convenient places you know you won’t get caught; a quickie in a random bedroom at a party, a sneaky handjob under the table of a library, a night where you let yourself destress in his car when you’re supposed to be on your way to hang out with a friend.

All of it has been quick, lustful, surface-level; nothing that would lead to cuddles under the safety of his sheets, or the smell of your shampoo after he decided to quickly shower at your place, or anything that could give you the slight semblance of domesticity— no possibility of seeing a future with him, of having anything that runs deeper than the touch of his skin on yours. 

Sometimes, you hate yourself for setting such boundaries. Sometimes, you wish you were self-destructive enough to push past the barrier that deemed you as friends with benefits (if you could even use the term “friends” with him) and go into something that was more than that, something that was more meaningful than the way you only allowed yourself to spent thirty minutes max with him alone, before you had to go check up on your best friend and make sure she hadn’t begun to drunkenly wish for Soobin to come back into her life. 

“You know, I only wanted you from the start,” he had told you once, the words dream-like and saccharine sweet as he confessed it quietly to you, your head too dazed from the feeling of him inside you to process it properly; burying the secret beneath harsh thrusts that left your mind blank, not expecting the confession to stick to you like glue regardless. And you had thought of every time Soobin would only leave parties at the same time you did, would be eager to tag along with your friend if you were there as well, all those moments your friend thought were for her the complete opposite.

And it shattered your heart. But it also made it soar, made your face heat up to know he’s had eyes on you all along, forced to back off once he thought you weren’t interested—- but you were, and you were simply holding back for the sake of your friend. 

“Not happening,” is all you can sigh into his mouth, allowing him to kiss you lazily, teeth sinking playfully into your lip before his tongue is darting out to soothe the pain; his fingers prod at your entrance teasingly, ring and middle finger entering slowly to feel you squeeze around him, only to pull out again. And he’s whining softly against your lips like wounded puppy, as though he wasn’t the one making you fall apart by letting his fingers sink slowly into you, curling slowly and pressing against your sweet spot as he kept a warm hand on your waist; dress bunched up under his palm, trying to keep you still as he begins to wind you up with ease. 

“Why not?” he asks, leaving your mouth and planting a soft kiss at the corner of your lip; on your jaw, trailing back until he’s gotten to the column of your neck, aiming for all the spots that make you as sensitive as the feeling of him slowly pumping his fingers into your cunt does, “I like you, you like me…”

His fingers are able to reach spots you could only dream of; spots that have you letting out choked whines and grabbing on his forearm desperately, hips attempting to buck and match his pace, only to be restrained by the bruising grip of his hand on you.

You’re trying to not pay attention to his ramblings— something you’ve found him doing a lot more often than you’d like, constantly being lured into temptations that should not be tasted— instead, you pay attention to the way his palm grinds against your clit and the growing sounds of your arousal as he thrusts his fingers into you, calculated and teasing as he slows down the moment you begin to get close.

“It works out, doesn’t it?” you’re tuning back into his words reluctantly, unable to whine for him to stop being such a tease as he continues, “Wouldn’t you just wanna… have one day where we’re not rushing?”

He’s quickening his pace again; your breath is stuttering at the feeling of his hard cock against you, letting out a pathetic whine at the way he begins to rut against you, slow and teasing as he rolls his hips into you, as though he were fucking you instead. 

“I’d take such good care of you,” he groans, listening to the way your breath is beginning to become ragged, lips continuing their descent from your neck to your collarbones, where he lets his teeth graze against the skin that’s being shown for a moment, “Really take my time with you…finally have you all to myself for once.”

“Soobin…” you say, an air of uncertainty to your tone— but Soobin is in complete disregard of it, needy hands pulling at the top of your dress to get access to your breasts— his free hand is slipping under the cup your bra while his mouth attaches to your nipple, pulling out a broken moan from you and threading your fingers through his hair subconsciously; his palm is pressing against your clit, making your walls clench around his fingers and causing him to laugh softly against your skin. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, beginning to rub quick circles on your clit with his thumb instead; listening to the way you keen and react to his touch immediately, your body buzzing with pent up pleasure that’s waiting to snap and release. “Don’t you like me?”

“I…” you’re trailing off without meaning to; it’s hard to concentrate with the way Soobin fucks you with his fingers so expertly, his breath fanning on your sensitive nipple with every soft moan he lets out; still rutting against you, his hand going back down to your hips to press you closer against him— you feel caged in by him, his fingers digging into your skin as he lets out a soft hmm? that urges you to answer his question and snaps you out of your reverie.

“Do you?” he asks again, slowing his pace to try and clear your mind, teasing you as he continues to rub soft circles on your clit— you nod frantically, breathing out a soft Soobin, please, that he doesn’t pay attention to— instead, he comes back up to capture your lips for a kiss, harsh and frantic as he bites your lip coyly; the whine you let out is enough for him to pull away with a soft sigh. 

“Tell me. I wanna hear it from you.”

He’s picking up his pace the moment you open your mouth to speak; a choked whine cutting off your words, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers begin to pump into you ruthlessly, the wet sounds making your face feel hot and mind blank as you let your mouth run, not paying attention to what you say. 

“I— I like you, I really like you,” you cry, the pleasure building to such an intensity that you feel tears pricking at your eyes, “you’re all I think about, Soobin— ugh, fuck— need you, want you to fuck me, wanna cum, please? Wanna feel you inside me, ‘m close— ah, Soobin please—”

Your words get cut off with a sharp cry; your body freezes up and is left for Soobin to control as he talks you through it all, cooing soft praise and reassurance in your ear as he presses soft kisses on your jaw— words soft and sweet, making your head spin and cunt clench around his fingers a little tighter— my good girl, so perfect for me, pretty thing, feel so good…

Soobin thinks he could cum just like this; your face is flushed and pretty as you look at him with glassy eyes, hips grinding into his hand as he continues to softly fuck you with his fingers, watching the way you jolt and whimper from the sensation— his cock is pathetically hard and leaking in his pants, practically throbbing as he continues to rut against you— but then he remembers your cute begging, unable to resist to such a request as he finally pulls away from you, fingers slowly pulling out of your cunt as he glances down to see the mess he’s made of you.

You can only watch and let out a weak sigh as you watch him slip his glistening fingers into his mouth, tongue curling around the digits and cleaning them entirely as he groans at the taste— your face feels like it’s on fire, and his eyes never leaves yours as his pretty lips slowly wrap around them. 

He’s undoing his jeans quicker than you can process; bringing you in for another sweet kiss, your hand wandering to wrap around his cock as you feel him hiss into your mouth— hips bucking slowly to the pace you’ve set for him, tip sticky and leaking as you swipe a thumb over it and spread the precum along the rest of his length.

“Condom,” you say breathlessly, feeling the way Soobin’s hands have found purchase on your waist again; slotting himself between your legs and standing impossibly close, enough to feel his wet tip touching your inner thigh— and he moans softly, the sensitive feeling of your warm skin enough to leave him dazed and responding a bit late to your words. 

“Fuck— right, right,” he groans softly, biting at his lip as he pats around his pockets; and by the way his brows knit together and he hesitantly reaches into his front pockets, you can already guess what he’s thinking— because you find yourself thinking it as well. 

You want to feel him without that thin layer of protection; want to feel the raw friction, wishing for nothing more but for him to fill you and have you leaking around his cock— but as you roll on the condom for him with a deft hand, you know that this is for the best— a small reminder of what you two are, that you can never truly get comfortable around each other. 

“Shit, so wet for me,” he says softly, teasing you as he runs his cock up and down your entrance; grinding softly against your clit, listening to your every whimper and whine keenly before he begins to tease his tip at your entrance— you’re both hissing at the stretch, always eager to feel the way he stretches you open, cunt never truly used to it no matter how many times you do this.

You’re letting out a sigh of content the moment he slides inside you; feeling his hands guide your hips into meeting him halfway, his soft moans and breaths fanning across your neck as his lips begin to suck at your neck again; you have half the mind to thread your fingers through his hair and tug slightly, muttering a soft no marks, Soobin, that has him huffing in disappointment. 

“And why not?” he asks, beginning to move his hips slowly; cock touching all your sensitive places so sweetly, as though it was the only thing he knew how to do, “you can just say it was from a random hookup— nothing wrong with that.”

God, he’s insufferable; he follows your request as he pulls away from his spot in the crook of your neck, pace beginning to build as he watches the way you fall apart on his cock; thick and big, always leaving your legs shaking as he holds your hips in place, one hand sliding down to grab your thigh and bring it up around his waist, as though you were nothing but a cute toy for him to fuck— your hands hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, nails digging into his skin through his thin tee as you simply shake your head with the last bit of coherency you have. 

“Aren’t you tired of sneaking around so much? Of having all these odd things we just can’t do when we’re literally—” he punctuates his words with a harsh thrust that has you yelping pathetically, “fucking, while you’re supposed to be babysitting your friend?” 

Your face burns at his words— he’s struck a nerve and he knows it, especially with the way your nails bite at his skin a little more than they already were— but even though you try to get angry at him, though you try to say something, you can’t, not with the way he’s fucking you so good that you can’t form a simple sentence. 

“We could be at my place right now— you wouldn't've had to go to this— fuck, this lame party in the first place, we could’ve just… hah, hung out at my place, let me take care of you.” 

His words send butterflies through your stomach— and it’s exactly why you let out a soft no, we can’t, at his words, the very idea of venturing into something more intimate making you weak in the knees— and he frowns, his grip becoming a bit bruising as his hips snap against yours, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room and rivaling the music that pours through from outside.

“So what, is this better for you?” he asks meanly, voice darkening at the way you can barely keep up with his pace, too fucked out to process his words fast enough, “do you enjoy having to face your friend after we’re done?” 

His words have you seething out a harsh fuck you in response; a hand leaves his shoulder to find itself tangled in his hair, pulling at it harshly before you’re bringing him closer to you— your waterline is lined with tears and your face is flushed as you give him a half-hearted glare. 

“Soobin, just shut up,” you grit out, watching the way his eyes narrow and harden in response— his hand has found its way back to your clit, circling it in a way that has you clenching around his cock and moaning pathetically.

“Pretty thing just wants to get fucked then? Wanna cum?” he coos, feeling the way your body has begun to tense at his ministrations, unable to answer him from how good you feel, “come on then, use me sweet thing, wanna— wanna feel it, know you can do it, filthy thing only knows how to come to me when you’re needy, isn’t that right?”

Your thighs are slick and your body is tensing from the feeling of Soobin towering over you, feeling as though he’s everywhere at once; his dark voice whispering endless filth into your ear, his breathy moans brushing against your skin and making you shiver with a small cry— his fingers dig a little into you, keeping your bucking hips still and forcing your body to cum again; pressing you firmly into the wall as you do, feeling the way your thighs tense and quiver under his hold as he lets you ride it out with slow and deep thrusts; pretty voice humming praise into your ear, settling your shaking body as he tells you thaaaat’s it, good girl, so pretty when you cum. 

You’re panting weakly into the air as your body finally comes down— but Soobin is still hard inside you, the feeling of your clenching and tight walls around him only encouraging to continue chasing his high— and you let him, leaning your head against the wall and watching with lidded eyes as he continues to fuck you, brows knitting at the sensitivity. 

He’s close, and your body is becoming more and more sensitive the longer he fucks you; crying softly with every thrust of his cock, letting out choked whimpers every time his tip bumps against your sweet spot— and you let him, let his hands wander and lips suck gently at your skin, not enough to leave marks but enough to have your back arching and legs shaking once more. 

His pace is picking up, becoming sloppy, and you think he’s about to cum— only for him to stutter to a stop at the sound of your ringtone, your eyes widening as you look over at the table next to you that you threw it on; your friend’s contact name lights up the screen. 

“Answer it,” Soobin says roughly, voice slightly strained from how good you feel around him— your eyes widen as you shake your head no frantically, only to watch in horror as Soobin reaches for the phone for you; you can feel your blood grow cold the moment he answers the call and presses your phone firmly against your ear— in a panic, you grab a hold of it yourself.

“He—hello?”

Your friend is asking you where you are— she wants to leave, she doesn’t feel well, asking if you can take her home— she’s drunk and you can barely focus on her slurred words, Soobin’s unpredictable pace returning as he goes back to fucking you; the wet sounds are enough to have your eyes widening in panic, biting your lip and reaching out to slap a hand on top of Soobin’s mouth. He lets you, staring at you with dark eyes as his thrusts become rougher, choosing to aim for the specific spots he knows drive you crazy; a stray tear falls from your eyes from the effort of having to hold in your sounds. 

“Where— are you— hmmm?” you’re lucky your friend is wasted. She doesn’t pick up on your struggle to articulate your words, telling you that she’s been sitting outside on the porch trying to contact you— you wince, partly at her words, and partly because Soobin is noticeable close, frantically rutting into you as muffled moans sound against the palm of your hand; clearly more dramatic than usual, wanting to be heard as you can feel his lips part against your hand, the messy drool building up on the corners of his lips as you wince. 

“Okay, I’ll—” Soobin cums with a particularly loud groan and a thrust that lets him bottom out; he’s entirely inside you as he lets his head rest on your shoulder, the feeling so sudden it has you cutting yourself off in order to bite your lip pathetically— still caged in and left at Soobin’s mercy as he plants soft kisses along your shoulders, cock still moving ever-so-slightly as you finally find the courage to speak.

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

You hang up after hearing her drunken okay.

It’s silent. It’s tense, and you’re unsure of what to say, and slightly afraid of what Soobin will say. Instead, he pulls away without a word; slides out of you with nothing but a soft wince, taking off the condom and tucking himself in quietly— you can only stand and watch as he turns to the private bathroom of the bedroom, tossing the used condom in the trash before you hear the sound of the sink running; you can’t help but cringe at the awkwardness of it all.

“You okay?” he asks once he finally emerges, raising a brow at the way you seem surprised at his comment— only for your eyes to fall at the towel in his hands, face heating up at the way he slowly approaches you, crowding your space once more. 

He’s cleaning you up without another word; even when you try to get the rag from him, try to do it yourself, he doesn’t let you— his touch is tender and has your heart racing, your mind trying to get yourself to calm down the moment your eyes meet; a cold reminder of where you are, of the reality of it all.

Soobin doesn’t let you stick to this reality for long; not with the way he’s fixing your clothes carefully and pulling you in for a soft kiss, hands running up and down your body as he mutters a soft so perfect— and you’re snapping out of it once more, pushing against his chest with a firm hand.

“Soobin, please,” you say quietly, unable to meet his eyes as you stare down at the floor instead. You hear him let out a tired sigh.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” is all he says, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear him, “You’ll have to pick a side eventually.”

That much is obvious to you; and though it hurts to meet his gaze, hurts to see the way his eyes hold a sense of longing that you haven’t allowed yourself to reveal, you refuse to acknowledge his comment. 

“I have to go to my friend.”

His face is painted with disappointment. 

“Sure.”

You’re quick to go to push past him and go to the door— his voice stops you before you can even turn the knob.

“See you later?”

His voice has that soft rumble that always makes you shiver without fail— and despite your better judgment, you nod your head.

“Yeah.”

And the cycle continues.

[daisyvisions]

Unspoken Words (Pt. 3)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 7.4K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) very angsty but with a happy ending, jealousy, confessions, some arguments, mentions of being drunk, heated makeouts, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f! receiving), slight masturbation, marking, neck biting, slight dry humping, pet names (sweetheart) lots and lots of sexual tension y'all (pls let me know if I missed anything!)

➺ A/N:  Okay hear me out... it wasn't supposed to take this long for me to write this I swear 😭 but life got in the way huhu but anyways WOW 7.4K words? this is the longest fic I've ever written! This is the last part of this series and while I'm sad it has to come to an end, I'm just very proud of this series as a whole! Proofread once, I hope you enjoy this last part!

➺ Part 1 | Part 2

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @aimeecarreros and the anon that reminded me to write for it bless you I hope you see this!

As your body sways to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers, you can't help but become immersed in the kaleidoscope of colors moving around you. You finally feel relaxed enough after a couple of drinks and slowly let everything around you move through you like an ocean wave.

It's been a while since you've been this loose, especially with all the college requirements piling on you like bricks. You needed this, especially since it was your birthday. You deserved to have a break and not think of any responsibilities for a moment and have fun with the person you adore the most… your best friend. Speaking of best friend, where the hell is he right now?

Your mind pulls you away from your reverie as your eyes frantically search for the man who was with you all night. The man who had your whole birthday planned out and dragged you to this place. And just like a moth to a flame, you spot him easily across the room sitting by the bar as he watches you with his warm eyes, the growing smile on his face as soon as his eyes finally meet yours.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards him, weaving through the sea of bodies. You stop right in front of where he sits, your body wedged between his legs as you place your hands on his shoulders for stability. His eyes grow wide as you slowly lean closer to him, wondering what you might do next.

"C'mon Sangyeon, dance with me!" Your mouth is dangerously close to his ear as you try your best to speak above the reverberating music around you.

"I think I'll pass. I'm good right here," he responds as his hand holds your waist to stop you from swaying.

"You can't say no, it's my birthday, remember?" you remind him, your tone playful yet insistent.

Sangyeon hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the crowded dance floor. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. He lets out a heavy sigh, remembering that he was the one who set that rule for the evening to begin with. It was the condition he had suggested in order for you to say yes to going out tonight.

"Okay… let's dance," he sighs, quickly chugging down the rest of his drink before allowing you to lead him onto the dance floor.

As soon as you step foot on the dance floor, Sangyeon grabs your wrist and makes you twirl for him. You laugh at the silly gesture but continue to dance with him and let the music move through both of you.

He laughs at how loose-limbed your movements have become but still tries to match your energy nonetheless despite not being much of a dancer. Sangyeon can't help but smile as butterflies soar throughout his body.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life, wishing for moments like this to never end.

Later on in the night as you both walk back to your apartment, Sangyeon wraps his arm around you, trying to keep your balance as you yap about anything and everything. For some, this would be considered bothersome, having to be the caretaker of their tipsy friend. But to Sangyeon, it doesn't matter as long as it was you.

Aside from getting you home safe, all he can focus on is the beautiful sound of your voice and the way you hold onto him closely. The smell of your perfume was far more intoxicating than the drinks you downed tonight.

When you both finally make it to your front door, you suddenly spin around to hug Sangyeon tightly. "This was the best birthday ever, thank you so much Sangyeon," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Anything for my girl," he smiles, returning the same hug you're giving him.

His cheek presses against your head, taking all the strength he could muster to not kiss your temple. You both hug each other for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. As soon as you reluctantly pull away from one another, Sangyeon chuckles at the tousled appearance of your hair.

"Here, let me just—" Sangyeon's hand reaches for the loose strand of hair and gently tucks it behind your ear. You impulsively press your cheek onto his palm, letting the heat of his skin cradle you as you sigh dreamily.

You look up at him with these sultry eyes, and Sangyeon can't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. This kind of thing has never happened between the two of you. He tries his best to ignore the sudden warmth blooming at the back of his neck but fails as soon as his eyes gravitate towards your lips almost touching his palm.

"Sangyeon?"

Beep, beep, beep! The sound of your alarm rings as you wake up from your dream. You find yourself smiling as you open your eyes, but reality hits you like a lightning strike as you soon realize who was the male lead of your dream.

You aren't upset because the dream ended so abruptly, but rather the scenario reminds you of a time when you and Sangyeon were happy. When you two were still friends and not in the shit show you're currently in where he makes you feel like a total stranger.

Before you start wallowing in your own sadness, you rub your eyes and immediately get up from your bed, stretch, and check your phone. Today, you're assigned to check the inventory and the progress of everything the team needs for the play next week. While that sounds easy to do, it also means you have to quality check and sort out all the props, costumes, and other items before the tech rehearsal.

Today is definitely going to be a long one, but at least it will give you enough distraction from overanalyzing that dream, right?

You slowly exhale a sigh of frustration as you continue untangling the mess of rope on your lap. Not only have you been trying to straighten them out for the past hour or so, but you also start to feel a numbing pain in your tailbone as you sit cross-legged on the stage. It was a mistake positioning yourself here as you figure out this task, but at least you were a few more tasks away from calling it a day.

"Didn't expect to see you here—" A deep voice startles you. You were so focused on unraveling the rope from its tangled knots that you didn't pay attention to the creaking sound of the auditorium's entrance.

You clutch your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat while your eyes search for the source of the voice. You'd think finding who the voice belonged to would calm your nerves, but you suddenly feel your heart pounding harder than it did a few seconds ago when your eyes finally lock in on the other person's face. Oh god… Sangyeon.

"Uh—" You try to swallow down the non-existent lump stuck in your throat. "The rest of the team couldn't make it today so I volunteered to help…"

"I know, I signed up with you weeks ago to check on inventory, remember?" He awkwardly laughs. And in that moment, it only occurred to you that you did in fact sign up with Sangyeon for this weeks ago, the whole rift between you two making you forget that little detail.

"R-right…" You turn away to focus on the task at hand before he spots the embarrassed look on your face, quietly praying that he will decide to just leave you to your work.

But apparently, the universe had other plans for you today.

Sangyeon starts walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. The sound of his footsteps is so slow and gentle it's more nerve-wracking than any sound you've ever heard. You really do try your best to ignore him, but that alone starts to become difficult as the faint scent of his warm cologne starts to invade your senses.

"Need a hand?" Sangyeon offers, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

"No, I've got it," you quickly reply as your eyebrows furrow in frustration at a particularly difficult knot.

Sangyeon chuckles at your stubbornness, finding it cute rather than annoying. Suddenly, he places his hands on the edge of the stage and pulls himself up, his figure now closer to you than ever before as he sits right across from you.

"Here—" He grabs the tumbleweed of rope from your hands and starts to untangle the mess effortlessly.

"You were always a stubborn one, huh?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

"I only learn from the best," you reply, sharing a slightly awkward laugh together.

"Come on," Sangyeon says, his voice softer now. "I'll help you so you don't stay up too late."

At first, you were worried about how awkward it would be to have Sangyeon around you for a couple more hours considering everything that has happened between you two. But much to your surprise, it was like nothing happened at all, as if you two were just picking up where your friendship had left off.

The first couple of minutes or so were obviously weird, but as soon as Sangyeon made a joke about an incident that happened backstage weeks ago with two of the crew members, you couldn't help but burst out laughing. From that point on, you two were talking nonstop as you tried to untangle the rope together. And for the first time in weeks, you both felt that missing part of you become whole again.

By the time you both finished straightening out the rope, he asked you what other tasks you had left so he could work on some while you did the other half. You both got up to do your tasks and met back at the same spot where you sat cross-legged from one another to finish retouching the paint on some props.

As the night went on, Sangyeon couldn't help but steal glances at you as you focused on painting the item in your hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed his entire body, remembering how it felt to be around you like this again.

He suddenly snapped back into reality as you let out a loud sigh as you brush the loose hair from your cheek with the back of your hand. A light streak of paint smudges your skin, making Sangyeon chuckle at the sight of it.

"What's so funny?" You looked at him quizzically. Sangyeon couldn't help but smile at your confused face. Without hesitation, he put down the brush in his hand and leaned closer to you.

"You've got a little something—" He held your head steady with his palm as his thumb tried to remove the smudge of paint on your cheek.

You suddenly became aware of how close you were to Sangyeon. You could see every detail of his face. Your heart began to race as you realized he was staring at you intently, his breath catching in his throat.

"T-there. Just a bit of paint, that's all—" Sangyeon stammered, his eyes never leaving your face. Before he could lower his hand, you impulsively grabbed his wrist a little more firmly than you had hoped, instantly missing the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

You melt at the touch of his caress, eyes closing as his warm hand envelops your skin. You turn your head slightly for your lips to lightly touch his inner wrist. Your heart starts pounding out of your chest; it's as if this moment seems too familiar to you.

"Sangyeon?" You say his name under your breath, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart is beating in this moment. Wondering if his heart is also beating as loud as yours.

Sangyeon's lips part, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to find the right words to say. How can he, especially when you look at him with deep longing? After everything that has happened between you two?

He sees your eyes falter with his lack of response as you try to slowly pull away from him. Regret starts to consume him, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get close to you again.

No, he can't lose you, not like this. It's either he does it now or regrets this for the rest of his life.

"Fuck it—" Sangyeon grips the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, your lips suddenly pressed against his.

You impulsively place your hand on his chest and push him away, scanning his face for his reaction. But all you can see is how dilated his pupils are, looking at you with an intense gaze you have never seen before. Suddenly, the air around becomes stuffy and surges with desire all at once.

Without a word, you grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards you desperately as you smash your lips against his once more. Sangyeon responds with the same level of desperation as he cups your face between his warm hands and presses a deeper kiss onto you. He groans at the sound of your faint whimper as he hastily pushes the props and other items that stand between you two to the side, not giving a damn if they get all messed up.

His body hovers over yours as he leans closer to you, gently guiding your back onto the wooden floor of the stage. Your hands try to cling onto his broad shoulders, but as soon as you lay completely flat beneath Sangyeon, you find yourself grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling him closer than ever before.

He inserts his knee between your legs, causing them to split apart while he tries his best not to place his entire weight onto you. Your core accidentally brushes against his thigh as you both adjust yourselves, gasping into his mouth at the delicious friction below. Sangyeon wastes no time slipping his tongue between your lips, moaning at how your tongues move together so perfectly. He needed to taste more of you or else he would go insane.

As Sangyeon's lips pull away from yours, they start to make a trail from your jaw down to the column of your neck. Each kiss feels as if he's leaving permanent marks on you despite not actually sucking on your skin. Your faint whimpers and sighs of satisfaction encourage him to keep going. He was so lost in the moment that he had forgotten where you were. But that didn't matter to him at all.

All he could think about was having you in his arms again.

Just as things were starting to become even more heated between you two, a loud ringing echoes in the air. The source was coming from your phone, which was just a few inches away from Sangyeon. At first, you tried to ignore it, too caught up in the sensation of Sangyeon's lips on your neck, his hands inching dangerously close to areas that made your core throb in excitement. But when the phone kept on ringing, you couldn't avoid the curiosity any longer.

You reach for your phone, trying to calm yourself before answering so that whoever was calling you wouldn't suspect anything odd on your end (but that alone was difficult as Sangyeon deepened the kisses on your neck).

"Hello?" Your phone fumbles against your ear as you try to hold it steady. "Oh, Hyunjae, I was just—"

As soon as you said his name, Sangyeon froze. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, suddenly bringing him back to reality. He chuckles under his breath, mentally slapping himself for getting so carried away with you like this that he forgot the person thats between you and him.

Sangyeon lets go of your waist and abruptly gets up to straighten his clothes and hair. Without warning, he hops off the stage and walks towards the exit of the auditorium. You try to process what the fuck is happening all the while maintaining your current conversation with Hyunjae over the phone.

"I'll call you back, Hyunjae. Give me a sec—" You get up and try to follow Sangyeon quickly.

By the time you burst through the theater's doors, you see Sangyeon walking to the nearest fountain to take a sip and splash water on his face. You walk towards him carefully as he lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Sangyeon?" you call out softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But he flinches away from your touch, causing a massive ache in your chest.

"This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he replies, his voice cold and distant.

"What? Sangyeon, can you please just—"

"It's nothing," he interrupts you.

"It's not nothing. Tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. Leave it alone."

"Sangyeon, cut the bullshit," you snap, your patience wearing thin.

"What?" he asks, his tone defensive.

"You've been acting weird towards me ever since the day after my birthday, and I want to know why," you say, your voice rising with frustration. "Why have you been avoiding me? Making me feel like shit?"

Something in Sangyeon seems to snap at your words. "You want to know what it is?" he practically shouts. "Hyunjae. He's my fucking problem. Doesn't help that I see you two everywhere I go and practically hear you two at each other like animals!"

"I didn't even know you were coming over that day!" you retort. "This all wouldn't have happened if you had just not cut me off like that. It fucking hurt, Sangyeon. Then now you can't just suddenly walk into my life again like nothing happened, kiss me, and expect everything to be okay!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sangyeon says, his voice suddenly tired.

"Understand what exactly?" you press.

"I—" Sangyeon struggles to get the words out of his throat.

"That night, your birthday party," he says slowly, searching your face. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"Stop with the cryptic shit and just spit it out!" you say, your patience completely gone.

"Fine!" Sangyeon explodes. "You want to know why I've been avoiding you this whole time?"

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever he's about to say.

"You kissed me."

His words hit you like a train. "W-what?"

"And you wanna know what hurts the most? The way you looked at me the next day when I almost tried to kiss you again. You looked at me with this terrified expression on your face, as if you regretted what had happened." His voice lowers as he explains. You don't notice the tiny dots of tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"W-why didn't you just tell me?" you murmur, the pieces falling into place as you realize your dream from last night was actually a forgotten memory.

"I panicked," Sangyeon admitted. "What if you didn't mean it at all and I just made a fool of myself? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. And I know how dumb it was of me to cut you off, but it hurt knowing that you didn't feel the same way and I would have to live with that memory every time I looked at you."

A numbing silence fills the air for a moment.

"I—I couldn't face you after knowing what your lips felt like, what it felt like to hold you. I'm a coward, I know that now. I should've apologized during the dance, but it was too late."

You stood there, frozen, as Sangyeon poured his heart out. Then he suddenly asks you a question that made your heart stop.

"If I hadn't kissed you just a while ago, would you still have talked to me? Would you have chosen me over Hyunjae?" Before you could formulate a response, your phone rang again. It was Hyunjae. Sangyeon's face fell, and he took a step back.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll finish up the work inside."

You stand frozen as Sangyeon walks away. Everything suddenly feels too intense that you don’t even realize the tears that start to run down your cheeks. You need to get out of here or else you’ll drive yourself insane.

You grab your phone, fingers hovering over Hyunjae's number. At first you hesitate, torn between telling him the truth about your feelings for Sangyeon or seeking physical comfort to forget about everything. Your irrational brain picks the latter option instead.

“My place tonight? 😉”

Everything for you was completely a blur. One minute you're standing still outside the auditorium, the next you're pouncing on Hyunjae as soon as he rings your doorbell. You were so in over your head you had no grasp of time or any coherent thought.

"Looks like someone's missed me a bit too much, hm?" Hyunjae mumbles as he kisses you messily, pressing you against your front door.

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?" You breathe out, grabbing his hair in your hands.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks before you both start hastily walking into the living room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your path.

To Hyunjae, this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you so worked up like this over him. But something about you right now seemed a bit off. Yes, seeing you incredibly horny like this was exciting, but your movements did not match the energy in your eyes. It was almost like you were on autopilot to him.

There's definitely something bothering you, he thinks. Or maybe you've been working all day and just need a way to relax. He'll probably check in on you later but for now, all he can think of is hearing those beautiful moans you make for him.

Too eager to get a taste of you, Hyunjae drags you over to your couch as he pulls you in to straddle his lap. He wastes no time littering your neck with kisses, groping your ass while you grind on his growing bulge.

"C'mere." He grabs your face in his hands, admiring little details of your face while he smiles to himself. "Tired from today?"

"Mhm." You hastily reply, wanting to not think of anything else except Hyunjae's touch. So you lean in to kiss his neck while moving your hips on his lap, your hands struggling to unbuckle his belt.

The way you answered just now threw Hyunjae off. There was definitely something wrong with you. How does he know? It was all in your eyes. Usually, you looked at Hyunjae directly when he called your attention. But now? It was like you were trying to completely avoid any sort of eye contact with him, and that was making him feel uneasy.

"Hey, uh—are you alright?" He calmly asks while gently holding your hips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You mumble against his throat. Hyunjae thought he might be overthinking, but the more you struggled to unbuckle his belt (which was not a difficult task for you in the past), he couldn't continue on with you like this.

He calls out your name, hoping you'd stop to look at him, but you don't pay him mind. He says your name two more times and you still ignore him. Instead, he grabs your wrists and holds them up to finally get your attention.

"Talk to me, please—" He searches your face, trying to get a better look at you.

"There's nothing to talk about, Hyunjae." You huff out, irritated that he suddenly halted your movements.

"You think I'm dumb? There is clearly something wrong and you don't wanna say it," he says sternly, trying not to get too irritated with how you're acting towards him.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Ugh, Hyunjae, can you just stop? It's none of your business!"

"It is my business if it's making you this upset—"

"Why do I have to tell you anyway?! It's not like you're my real boyfriend—" Your eyes widen as you suddenly regret saying those last words. And to add fuel to the fire, the way Hyunjae looks at you makes you want to vomit. You've never seen his face drop in an instant. The way the light in his eyes burned out so quick, too.

"Hyunjae, I— I didn't mean to, I'm so—"

"You're right," Hyunjae interrupts you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. But I am your friend. And I deserve to know what's been bothering you because I care about you so much I hate seeing you like this."

His stern but concerned voice hits you so fast you end up bursting into tears on the spot. Sobbing hysterically into his chest as you cry out all the pent-up emotions you locked away from tonight.

Hyunjae instantly wraps his arms around you and envelops you in a warm embrace. He gently strokes your hair while steadying his own breath, waiting for you to calm down until you feel better. You both sit in silence for a few minutes until Hyunjae's voice breaks the ice.

"It's about Sangyeon, isn't it?" He says calmly. Your head springs up in response.

"How did you—"

"The last time I saw you cry like this was when you were outside the gym during the dance." Hyunjae cups your face and wipes the remaining tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"And well… if you were crying about me, we know it's for an entirely different reason." He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"You should be with him—" Hyunjae says as he looks into your eyes. Before you can even ask, he continues. "That's who you want to be with, right? That's who you should be with right now, not me."

"Hyunjae, I—" You shake your head in disbelief. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asks with a surprised tone. "This isn't about me! It's about you. I'm not the one you need, we both know that. We both knew that at the very beginning. It was always Sangyeon." Hyunjae's voice starts getting weaker the more he speaks out the truth.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you and how you looked at him. It's clear as day that you both need each other more than you both realize it."

"But what about our agreement?" You ask him softly.

"Remember the first rule? If one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end." He pauses his thought as he looks at you a little longer, taking you to memory before letting out a big sigh.

"And besides, our agreement broke a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well—" Hyunjae's cheeks start to warm up. "I fell in love with you the night of our first time." He faintly smiles. Rule number two, if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated.

"That night, you looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. That I wasn't the guy everyone in school knew as some kind of dick. You looked at me as Hyunjae, the real Hyunjae." He brushes a hair behind your ear. "How dumb of me to fall for those pretty eyes of yours." He sighs once more, trying his best to not let you see his lips quivering.

"I'm so sorry—" You start to tear up, knowing that this would probably be the last moments you have with Hyunjae.

"Hey, don't go all soft on me just because I said that, alright?" Hyunjae tries to bring energy back into his voice.

"I knew what I was getting into. You deserve to be happy, and if I'm not the reason for your happiness and you're stuck with me, that would break my heart even more."

He grabs your face so you could look him in the eye properly. "Got it?" You nod in response.

"Now c'mon. Be a good hostess and walk me out of your apartment." Hyunjae smiles before grabbing your wrists and pulling you up from his lap.

He helps you grab your clothes on the floor and even dresses you up and does the same for himself after. By the time he sets one foot out your front door, he suddenly turns around to face you.

"Can I just have one more request from you before this is all over?" he asks.

"Oh? What would that be?" You look up at him.

"Just one kiss goodbye." He smirks playfully. You chuckle before nodding your head to give him the go signal.

You close your eyes waiting for the warmth of his lips on yours for the last time, but instead feel it on your forehead.

"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he places his hand on your shoulder and gently rubs it for the last time before completely heading out the door.

For the last couple of hours, Sangyeon did nothing but lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could still feel his heart pounding in his ears from your heated exchange at the auditorium earlier this evening. What made things worse was the fact he could still feel your lips on his, and your little sighs of pleasure were replaying in his head.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he offered to help you? Or when you leaned into his palm just like you did when you first kissed him? He couldn't stop mentally beating himself up for going off like that on you when you didn't even remember that night to begin with.

And now, not only did he pour his heart out, but there's also a guaranteed chance you may never speak to him again. He regrets this night more than keeping the truth from you.

2 A.M. was what was read on the clock of his bedside table when he turned his head. He hardly even noticed the time go by as too many thoughts and emotions were stirring in his head. His head started to ache from staying up too late.

It was difficult to forget everything that had happened between you two, but sleep seemed like the best option for him at the moment to distance himself from the issue. Sangyeon tried to close his eyes and count sheep; he could slowly start to feel himself drift into sleep until he heard loud knocks on his front door.

Pissed off, he groans and trudges to see who had interrupted his moment to fall sleep. Sangyeon swings the door open quickly, hoping to show the person on the other side his irritable mood.

"You better have a good explanation as to why you're here—" Sangyeon's eyes widen at the unexpected visitor.

"Hyunjae? What— what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Do you love her?" Hyunjae looks him in the eye.

"What?" Sangyeon's eyebrows furrow at the vague question.

"I said," Hyunjae sighs out of frustration, "Do you love her? Because she fucking loves you, man. And if you don't go over there right now—" Hyunjae takes a step forward, his figure almost towering over Sangyeon's.

"You will lose the greatest person that has ever come into your life," he asserted firmly. Out of nowhere, Hyunjae pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and shoves it into Sangyeon's hand.

"No time to explain, just go!" Hyunjae increases his voice slightly.

Sangyeon stays still for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening right now, then moves hastily to grab his phone, keys, and put on his shoes. As soon as Sangyeon locks his front door, he turns around to face Hyunjae.

"T-thanks, man. I owe you one," he humbly says. Hyunjae faintly smiles, nodding in return. A silent truce being made between the two.

Sangyeon drives to your place like a maniac, not caring if he has run any stop lights or whatever. He doesn't care at all. All he can think about is getting there in time to see you before it's too late to win you back. By the time he reaches your front door, he takes a deep breath before ringing your doorbell.

You open the door slowly, cautious about who could be visiting you at this time. The moment you peek and get a glimpse of Sangyeon's face, your face knits in confusion.

"S-Sangyeon? What are you doing here?" You look up at him. Sangyeon can see how red and puffy your eyes are; it almost makes him mentally beat himself up once more, but he will deal with that later.

"I came to see you," he matches your whisper. "Can I come in?" You nod and open the door wider as he takes off his shoes, lets himself in, and places the bouquet of flowers down on a table. You're slightly stunned as soon as you close the door and turn around to see Sangyeon standing close to you.

"W-what are you doing?" Your voice quivers as your eyes search his.

"What I should've done a long time ago—" he gently grabs your face in his palms, observing your reaction to his touch before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips. You try your best to kiss him back with the same firmness despite feeling incredibly weak from crying your eyes out the whole night.

When Sangyeon pulls away from the kiss, he then gently kisses your forehead and slowly litters your face with his kisses. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer while your eyes flutter shut and melt into his touch. Tears of joy start streaming down your face as your heartbeat slowly paces itself to a calm rhythm.

"You really hurt me, you know?" you croak.

"And I'll never do that again." Sangyeon looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." He kisses your forehead once more before pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your hips while yours move to wrap around his neck.

You stay like this for a while, basking in each other's warm embrace. As Sangyeon opens his eyes for a moment, he catches his reflection staring back at him through a mirror nearby. When his eyes drift to the back of your figure, his heartbeat starts to rise intensely.

It did not occur to him that when you opened the door, you were wearing nothing but a short and very thin nightgown. Naturally, the silk of the nightgown bunches up as his arms hold your waist, giving him a tasteful glimpse of not only your lace underwear but also the fact that the undergarment you’re wearing shows your ass beautifully.

Sangyeon suddenly starts a coughing fit, trying to beat his chest to clear his throat while you're taken aback.

"Are you okay? What happened?" You hold his shoulder while he attempts to regain his composure.

"I—uh—" He scratches the back of his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your direction. But that fails when you catch him scanning your figure and his cheeks suddenly glowing a shade of pink.

"I—I can turn around while you grab a robe." His eyes look around your apartment. You giggle at his sudden embarrassment, finding it rather endearing more than anything. You take a step closer to him, your bodies practically millimeters apart.

"It's alright Sangyeon, you can look." You try to hide the smirk forming on your lips.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, okay?" He replies, still trying to avoid your gaze. But he is instantly brought back to face you as you pull his chin with your thumb and index finger to get him to look directly into your eyes.

"But… what if I don't want you to be a gentleman tonight?" you whisper.

"Oh, thank fucking God—" Sangyeon pulls you into a heated kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck once more as his hands travel down to the doughy flesh of your ass, groping and kneading it.

Your hands are all over each other as you both struggle to make your way into your bedroom, giggling in between kisses as he nearly trips over your carpet. Sangyeon eagerly plops you down on the edge of your bed, kneeling down to match your eye level as you pull him by his shirt to swipe the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He moans into your mouth as he opens up for you, intertwining his tongue with yours as his hands rest on your lap.

Sangyeon slowly spreads your legs apart and inserts himself in between, his hands gripping your inner thighs as his lips start to travel down to your neck. You sigh out dreamily, feeling the warmth of his lips make their mark on you.

You suddenly yelp at a particular spot that Sangyeon nips. He pulls away to check if you're okay. You nod, giving him the signal to continue. Before diving back in, Sangyeon notices the spot he had nipped was already red, indicating a mark had been made prior to his own.

Hyunjae… He can already hear that laugh ringing in his ears, but decides not to let the idea get to him and focus on you right now.

Sangyeon continues to litter your neck with kisses, leaving a trail as he makes his way to kissing your inner thighs. Your breathing starts to shake as his lips inch closer to your sex. Sangyeon wasn't even near your core, and he could already feel the heat radiating from you, making him smirk against your skin before giving a featherlight kiss to the wet patch on your underwear.

"Sangyeon, please…" You whine, desperate to feel his tongue wedged between your folds.

"Shh, it’s okay," he looks up at you as he kisses your clothed mound once more. "Let me take the lead."

His fingers pull your panties to the side, feeling his length throb at the beautiful sight of your slick glistening, enticing him to just dive into you. And he does exactly that as he kisses your folds before lapping his tongue between them, taking his sweet time to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle.

You let out a loud moan as you lie back to enjoy the feeling of Sangyeon between your legs. He continues on like this for a moment until the tip of his tongue starts to circle around your sensitive bud, making your hands fly to his head to pull his face closer to your core.

His lips suck on your throbbing clit as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, curling them up to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your hips start to mindlessly move on their own as you grind yourself on Sangyeon's face. You sound incredibly hot; it spurs Sangyeon to lower his sweatpants down to free his aching cock and fist it harshly.

You start to feel your high approaching fast, the knot inside you ready to snap any second now. But the moment the vibrations of Sangyeon's groan ring against your core, you scream in ecstasy. You clench your thighs together, squeezing his head as your essence bursts in Sangyeon's mouth. For a quick moment, he thinks to himself that if he could choose to leave this earth, he would gladly go out by being suffocated between your legs.

He pulls his head away to check on you, your chest rising and falling heavily as you catch your breath. You couldn't believe the sight before you right now: Sangyeon's disheveled hair as he too catches his breath, the shine of your essence all over his mouth and chin, and the warmth of his cheeks flaring.

"T-that was—" You try to express your current state, but Sangyeon interrupts you as he quickly removes his shirt and gets up from his spot, exposing his glorious abs and his incredibly hard cock standing at attention. You were so mesmerized by his body you didn't even see him suddenly hovering over your body and kissing you like a man starved.

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart—" he mumbles against your lips. He spreads your legs further apart with his knee and lowers his weight on you, the tip of his manhood nudging your sensitive clit in the process.

Sangyeon kisses your chest, busy distracting you with the way his mouth sucks on your exposed nipple. He swiftly grabs your legs to wrap them around his torso. And in one swift moment, his thick, veiny length fills you up entirely. You both moan as he starts to roll his hips into you, pumping himself in and out of your cunt as your walls grip around him tightly.

Your bodies begin to melt into each other the longer Sangyeon fucks into your heat, all the raw emotions that have been brewing between you finally free from their confinement. He buries his head into your neck as his thrusts start to become stuttered, the throb of his length inside you signaling his high approaching. You dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, locking him in place as you also feel yourself reaching for the stars once more.

"Let go, Sangyeon, it's okay." You moan into his ear, and instantly he lets out a guttural moan as he stills his movements. His warm release bursts inside you as your own high finally falls off the edge, your walls gripping his member like a vice as he embraces you tightly in the process.

You allow yourselves to stay like this a little longer, taking the time to process everything that had just happened before Sangyeon pulls out and gets up to grab a warm towel to get you cleaned up. He freshens up a bit in your bathroom before finally joining you under the covers. You lay your head on his chest as he pulls you in for a hug.

You sigh dreamily, looking up at him as he smiles at you. You both slowly kiss once more before finally drifting to sleep, both your hearts and minds finally put at ease.

The next day, you wake up with Sangyeon hugging you close. His lips are pressed on your forehead as you feel the warmth of his breath fanning you. You smile, recalling the events of last night and finally being in Sangyeon's arms again.

You slowly peel his arms off you as you get up to use the restroom and make yourself coffee. As you finish brewing your coffee, the bouquet of flowers Sangyeon had put down on the counter catches your eye. You gently grab the bouquet and find a good vase to transfer the flowers into. A sealed envelope tucked between the flowers falls to your feet.

You pick up the envelope and scan the item in your hand for a quick moment before opening the flap and seeing the card inside. You smile to yourself as soon as you read the note, a bittersweet feeling blooming in your chest as you read:

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be crying anymore, okay? — L.HJ"

[merrinla]

Story to be told

When Halsin asks you to tell him something about yourself, the answers will be different depending on who you play as.

Tav / Dark Urge: I live in mortal fear of krakens, though I've never actually seen one. Halsin: Well they are fierce creatures from what I understand... but as long as you avoid the high seas, I think you can consider yourself safe.

Astarion: Maybe I have a sweet tooth too. Halsin: Is that so? Would you seek to drizzle honey on a neck before indulging?

Shadowheart: Well, I have something of a soft spot for animals... though I've never had a pet, that I'm aware of. Halsin: Ha! Pet ownership is an illusion - nature's creatures choose their own companions. No one has true mastery over them in the end. As it should be. But it heartens me to learn you and I share the same admiration.

Karlach: When I first got to the Hells, I was so scared and lonely I adopted a pet rock. Named it Crag. Halsin: Ah, but there are no pets in nature - only companions. Though I'll admit Crag likely made for a rather stoic confidante...

Gale: I cast my first spell whilst still a babe. My mother took an awful fright when I conjured up a score of rabbits in the pantry. Halsin: Ha! Talented from the beginning, then? Almost a surprise you didn't cast magic in the womb.

Wyll: I've always wanted a child of my own. Perhaps one day, when peace visits the Coast. Halsin: I think I know how you feel... duty, eh? I hope your wish comes true. We'll need new life once all this is over.

Lae'zel: I despise sunsets, slow wits - and small talk. Halsin: Luckily there's nothing small about getting to know someone like you. There's little occasion for frivolity in nature - I can appreciate your stance... even if others do not.

Githyanki Player: I once stitched shut a wound using twine made from the entrails of an enemy. Halsin: You are... nothing if not inventive. I can only hope the foe had already expired before you began your work.

Dark Urge: I really don't know very much about myself to tell. Dark Urge: Nothing half as charming as that... it's all crimson and rot. Standard option: I don't think there's anything worth sharing. Halsin: Oh. Well, your choice, of course.

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

02 — you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.

chapter summary — after chaos broke out during your work, simon attempts to comfort you in his own way.

tags / cw — angst, reader almost has a panic attack, reactions from bad anxiety, reader is yelled at, verbal assault, violence (simon beats someone up), tending to wounds i don't know how that thing works, just reader and simon being awkward, simon is very self aware, smut 18+, outercourse, grinding through clothes, p in v. [3.8k words]

☆ reader written with afab anatomy but gender neutral terms.

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

If you had the choice to disappear into the void, you would.

The cafe was quite crowded, which was a good thing for the place but not so welcoming for you. The customers kept on rushing in, rambling out orders while you hastily gave them their stuff while trying your best to not mess anything up. You knew the others were working just as much as you, and you didn’t want to seem selfish by thinking that you were having it the worst out there.

Though your brain truly was horribly overwhelmed with the amount of faces in this small cafe. The heat made your head throb, causing you to rub your hands over your face and take a few deep breaths, afraid that you’d break down in front of everyone, feeling your palms getting clammy. It was so hard to keep your voice controlled and polite while talking to the others, making sure that it didn’t crack.

You despised busy days.

Simon was sitting alone at the far edge seat inside the cafe, a cup of bitter black coffee on the table while his brown eyes blankly stared at you, observing your struggles that you seemingly masked quite well in front of others, but well, not for him.

The rest of the taskforce wasn’t here today since it wasn’t a weekend, and normally Simon himself would have never willingly come over at a crowded place like this. But he was feeling too restless in his apartment. Maybe he just needed fresh air. His mind kept on making dumb excuses, even though he was fully aware that he just wished to see you.

Plus it was always somewhat comforting knowing that he would keep you safe.

You were aware of him, aware of his eyes on you and words couldn’t describe how grateful you were. It was as if his familiar presence was the only thing keeping you sane during this shift, knowing that once this was over, you could talk to him if he’d let you.

You had just given the person standing in the front of the queue their coffee, watching them leave before the other person came at the front — some guy who was probably around your age, looking at you with a wolfish grin plastered on his lips that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.

“What would you like, sir?” You asked politely, fumbling with the fabric of your apron behind the counter, thankfully hidden from everyone’s sight. Inhale, exhale.

“A large cup of espresso, sugar.” That man replied, the pet name causing you to internally grimace. Fucking disgusting.

You silently nodded and went back to go over to the coffee machine, only to find out that one of the ingredients had run out. Today truly was your unlucky day.

A wave of panic shot over you as you walked over to the counter once more, facing that man. “I-I am sorry, sir… It seems like the espresso can’t be made due to the shortage of some stuff…” You were unable to hold in the little stammer in your words this time, your breath hitching at the way some anger began making its way over to that man’s face, his mood taking a huge swing. Volatile.

It scared, no, terrified you to see someone angry over something you said. It reminded you of your own parents, reminded you of things you no longer had wished to recall at this point.

“Fuck you mean shortage? What kind of cafe is this?!” The man snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you, his seething rage causing you to freeze on your spot. Fuck, everyone was looking. You hated this — hated the way you flinched at his loud voice, hated the way everyone was staring at you, silence taking over the cafe before soft murmurs could be heard here and there. Gossiping about this.

As if this was just a joke to them, as if all of this was normal.

“I-I understand your anger, sir… But—” Your words were cut off by his impatient slam on the counter. Your eyes widened and everything for a second seemed too silent, too unbearable. Don’t panic, don’t panic…

“You useless slag. Why don’t you just quit this job and—”

“Fucking get off her, you bastard.” A large hand grabbed the strange man’s collar and shoved him out of your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Simon. You had almost forgotten that he was here too. Another wave of humiliation and helplessness hit you as you just stood there, feeling like a weak idiot.

You didn’t even have to speak, not that you were going to, before Simon pulled the man back up on his feet. “You. Come with me.” He growled and dragged the man out of the cafe, leaving behind an unsettling thick layer of silence caused by the commotion. Over a fucking coffee.

Everyone saw it. Everyone saw you getting yelled at. Everyone saw you being fucking useless.

You soon realised that tears had begun blurring your vision, causing you to hastily undo your apron and scurry off into the staff room.

Simon had that horrendous man thrown into an eerily quiet alley with no one in sight except them both.

“Who do you think you’re messing with?” He growled under his breath, fingers curled up into fists, knuckles a bit bruised and bleeding after having repeatedly punched the man on his face, resulting in a broken nose and some broken teeth. Honestly deserved worse.

Simon didn’t know why he was so angry. He just hated seeing you already on the edge before this man just came in and messed everything up. How dare he yell at you? Scumbag. Simon wanted to spit at him and throw him in the bin like the fucking garbage he was, but he knew that someone could always walk by even in an isolated alley like this and he definitely didn’t want unnecessary attention.

Adrenaline was coursing through Simon’s veins and he could hear the blood rushing into his ears. He looked scary above the man, brown eyes wide and deadly. The fact that his face was covered in that balaclava made him look all the more inhuman.

Thank goodness you weren’t here to witness this.

In Simon’s mind, this was who he really was. Roughened up and turned into this rageful mess after years of brutal training and even worse missions. Trained like a fucking dog. Maybe that was what he was. A dog. Not a human, just a pathetic dirty thing who only knew the worst, who only knew the wrongs.

He was his own poison, killing himself on his own.

With one last kick on the stomach, Simon left the man to weep alone in the alley. He didn’t have to deal with someone like that anymore, all he could think was of you and how you probably were feeling right now.

Your manager had luckily let you end your shift early today, albeit still having scolded you for creating such a ruckus inside the cafe. For ruining a nice busy day. It made your throat tighten, making you feel as if everyone was blaming you for this. Maybe it really was your fault.

You silently stood outside the cafe, staring down at your hands that were clasped together, your fingers visibly trembling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear the fog in your head. Your moment of silence was broken by the familiar sound of soft footsteps nearing you.

Yes, you had memorised his footsteps. You knew everyone’s, actually. And his were your favourite — oddly soft and quiet, juxtaposing to what you initially expected from someone of his size. He was probably very skilled in sneaking up behind the people.

Simon silently stood besides you, not uttering a word. For a whole minute, it was just silence between you, your eyes nervously darting around before landing on his hands that were uncharacteristically not covered in his usual gloves that he wore all the time except for when you both were all alone.

And that’s when you noticed it, his bleeding knuckles.

“Simon…” You breathed out in panic, voice laced with concern as your eyes repeatedly shot back and forth between his face and his hands. What the fuck happened?

“Didn’t want my gloves getting dirty.” He mused gruffly, his eyes slowly looked down at you, causing you to knit your brows even more.

“He’s not gonna bother you again, love. No one is.” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, one hand of his reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. He really wasn’t bothered by the mild cuts on his knuckles. In fact, he really didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking of bandaging it.

“Let’s go to my place.” You urged him, lips a bit pouty while worry was etched over your face.

He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

Once you both reached your apartment, you were quick to push him onto the couch and hastily grab a first aid kit, scurrying over to sit beside him on the couch.

“Show me your hands.” You mumbled softly, causing him to reluctantly let your gentle hands hold his callused, larger hands. What a contrast. He felt guilty for making you hold such a dirty, damaged thing.

You were quick to clean up his hands, carefully touching the cuts with the cotton pads. You didn’t even want to imagine what Simon was capable of. Your eyes scanned his hands carefully, admiring every scar on his skin.

You never really thought much of it. Sure you knew that he was in the military, always doing some sort of highly dangerous work. But you never really saw that side of his — scary one. So it was fairly easy to forget his real strength until moments like these came to remind you. Though you never really disliked him for it.

You don’t think you could ever dislike him. He was just… everything.

Ever since you both have come to your place, all you could think about was how he stood up for you. You didn’t like pity, but the fact that someone cared, especially if that someone was Simon, made you feel all the more warmer aside.

He did care for you, right? Were you too fond of him? Too in awe of him?

You dabbed some antiseptic on the cuts before applying some cute panda bandaids on his knuckles. He stared at them questionably, brows furrowed though an amused scoff soon escaped his lips behind the mask. “You don’t own normal bandaids?”

“These are normal!” You grumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Just kiddin’... They are cute like you.”

You got up to put the kit away and wash your hands before coming back to sit besides him, pulling your knees to your chest, silence filling the room up once more.

Simon could see how you were still shaken up, the frown etched on your face accentuating the storm of thoughts raging inside your head. It made his heart ache, though he didn’t move a muscle at all, silently staring at you from the corner of his.

He didn’t know how to comfort you at all.

All he knew was how to handle guns and beat up people. All he knew was how to ignite a sense of terror within people.

Simon didn’t want to think of himself as a monster, the word alone making him think of no one other than his father. He wasn’t that man, he wasn’t.

He sighed behind his balaclava after a while and shuffled a bit closer to you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.

Your body tensed up for a second, and he was just about to back away once he sensed it before you eventually relaxed and leaned into him, a trembling sigh escaping your lips. He was warm, and you couldn’t help but think of him as a blanket that was shielding you from the world. A protector. Though he really wasn’t that, right? What even was he to you?

You didn’t want to think of that right now, not when your brain was already so exhausted after everything that happened today, the little bit of confidence you had already shattered.

Simon’s hand slowly snaked behind your back, drawing lazy discreet circles on your waist through the fabric of your shirt. You could make out some of them — a circle, then a star, then some random incomprehensible shape that he probably just made up on the spot and then a star again. This act of his made you smile a bit, your eyes fluttering up to look at him, only to find him looking back at you.

You had caught him staring at you multiple times before, but this moment felt so different — more cozy and intimate. It made your heart skip a beat, your brain feeling all foggy due to the sudden wave of happiness shooting within you.

Simon probably noticed the change in the air too since his hand was quick to pull back and settle on his lap, fingers drumming on his thigh, pretending as if nothing happened. It left you confused, disappointed even, but more so at yourself then at him. Why were you making every little interaction with him such a big deal? He didn’t like you the way you liked him.

Simon was silent for a while, multiple thoughts going on within his head. His large hand slowly drifted towards you once more, this time towards your thigh, fingers absent-mindedly caressing you. Well, he could comfort you in the way he knew of.

Your body was quick to react to his touch, your breath hitching while you were simultaneously a bit embarrassed of how you were so used to his touch, used to the way his caresses would make you squirm. You could already pick up on his intention behind this, to somehow get your mind off whatever happened in your job today.

“C’mere, love…”

His callused hands pulled you onto his lips with ease, holding onto your hips, your face facing his, eyes meeting. You swear you could feel the world slowing down every time your eyes would meet his, his stare alone coaxing you to lean into him, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck while your fingers curled up into the fabric of the large grey hoodie he was wearing.

“I’ll take care of you. I promise.” His gruff voice came out as a whisper, making your heart swell yet ache at the same time. Yes, please take care of me, these words repeated over and over in your head while you sheepishly nodded against his neck.

His hands were quick to work, not letting you do a single thing, lifting your hips up gently as he slid down your pants, carefully removing them all the way down, letting it drop to the ground. Your hands reached down in attempted to undo his pants, though he just lightly smacked your hands away and shook his head, huffing softly as he unbuckled the belt and unzipped his pants on his own, tugging them alongside his boxers just a bit so his cock was free from the restraints, already semi-hard.

Your mouth watered at the familiar sight that always made you all heated up and blustered, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes stared down at his cock, admiring the veins that adorned it. It was just perfect — girthy and uncut.

“Simon…” A meek whine left your lips while your eyes literally pleaded him to do something, anything to just somehow make your mind empty, to let you forget about everything, to let you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that you were with him.

His cock twitched at the noise you made, one hand of his tight gripping your hip in position while his other hand gently grabbed the base of his cock, beginning to rub the head against your clothed cunt, watching the way a wet patch was forming on your panties.

“D-Don’t tease me like this!” You grumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt the swollen head of his now hardened up cock bumping against your clothed clit, making your hips bucking towards him, desperate for more.

“Don’t nibble your lip like that, love. You’re gonna bruise it.” He breathed out, his eyes falling onto your lips that looked so kissable, making him clench his jaw behind that balaclava of his. No, he couldn’t kiss you.

He continued to play with you like this, rubbing and smearing his precum on your panties, continuing to grind against your clothed cunt, ruining this pair of panties. You mentally noted that you should buy some new ones this weekend.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that you started to feel the familiar tight knots building in your abdomen, a soft whimper leaving your lips while your fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie, desperately grinding back against his clock. “P-Please, please, Si… So close, pl—”

He stopped, gently pushing you slightly backwards on his lap so his cock was no longer touching you. A frustrated sob left your lips as you glared at him in confusion, eyes all glossy and he couldn’t help but grin behind his mask, noticing how adorable you looked like this. He already knew that he had successfully distracted you from your thoughts. He knew this wasn’t the ideal way. Hell, he should have actually cuddled with you and shared some comforting words. But fuck, he can’t. He shouldn’t. He is already being selfish enough with this whole thing you two have going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk progressing into something more.

He was a fucking asshole, he knew it. He knew of how he didn’t deserve you, and you definitely didn’t deserve a broken, fucked up in the head man like him. You deserved better.

But you two were already so far into this, weren’t you?

“Ssh, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum properly.” He assured you, gently pulling you into him once more, his fingers pushing your panties aside and giving your throbbing clit a few sweet rubs before positioning the head of his twitching cock in front of your entrance, looking at you while you were looking down at the spot your bodies were about to be connected at, literally swooning.

“Please…” You pleaded, feeling his cock gently smear your slick all over your folds before beginning to gently push into your tightness, a quiet grunt leaving his lips at the way you clenched around you, still struggling to fully get used to the way his girth would stretch you out. Your head fell onto his shoulder, panting softly as you tried to relax, feeling him slide into you slowly, inch by inch until he was fully snug inside your tight cunt, the cloth of your panties gently grazing against the side of his shaft.

“Takin’ me so well, aren’t ya? Always do. That pretty cunt of yours is so perfect.” He praised hoarsely into your ears, his affectionate words driving you over the edge, feeling him begin to lazily fuck his cock in and out of your fluttering cunt, hitting the spongy spots inside you with ease, as if having them all memorised within his head. Shaky moans would leave your lips at the blissful feeling, eyes rolling back into your head once you felt the head of his cock slam against your cervix, him making sure that it wasn’t painful at all. His hand massaged your hip gently, fondling the flesh and gently guiding you to grind against him while his other hand slid in between your connected bodies, caressing the moist skin of your thigh before moving in between to lightly rub your clit, feeling you clenching around him tightly.

You felt fuzzy, leaning into him fully to let his warmth relax you, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against you while your eyes fluttered shut, head fully nuzzled into his neck. You felt the knots building up again, even stronger this time, leaving you with no time to warn him before your orgasm washed over you hard, your walls spasming around him while a muffled moan left your lips, his fingers rubbing your clit just heightening up your sensitivity. He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with adoration at the way you cummed around his cock, his shaft having a white ring around him, filling his heart with a sickeningly proud feeling at the realisation that only he was capable of making you cum so hard, of making you get rid of all those thoughts.

His own orgasm flooded within him soon after, balls tightening up as he pulled his cock out of your cunt and gave it a few pumps, spraying the thick strings of his cum all over your sweaty, trembling thighs.

Both of you were breathing heavily, tingles spreading through your skin that made you smile at how full of pleasure you felt right now, all floaty as you fully collapsed onto him, clinging onto his tight while his sticky cock rested against your inner thigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.

“Si… Thank you so much…” You sleepily babbled, your breathing getting calmer.

He wished that he could show you the stupid smile that was spread on his face right now.

“I am goin’ to go for deployment after two days.”

He randomly announced that night, causing you to freeze and look away from the movie you both were watching and towards him, eyes all wide. What the fuck? And here you were being happy that he had decided to stay with you tonight, having agreed to spend some time with you.

You were making it all up, all this happiness and whatever feelings and signals you thought you were getting from him. Deployment. God, you hated that word and the way it filled you with dread, the way it always left you all anxious during the weeks he’d be away, fighting god knows who, literally a mistake away from walking on a bridge from life to death.

“How long…?” You quietly asked, trying not to seem so fazed by his sudden words, fingers fiddling with your shirt while your eyes looked away.

“Dunno… I believe it won’t be longer than two weeks. Don’t worry, love.” He mumbled after a while, subtle warmth lingering in his voice as his hand reached to gently caress the back of your head, causing you to sigh softly and lean into him, frowning a bit.

“Okay… Stay safe, Si.”

You trust him. Of course you do.

Liar. Fucking liar. It had been three weeks, three weeks without any contact from him, or any news from him. He wasn’t on this mission with Kyle as far as you knew, so there was no point in asking him.

Was Simon safe? Was he wounded? Did he get captured? Did he get tired of you? Is he finally getting rid of you? Is he… abandoning you?

You tried to shake these thoughts off your mind, trying to remember that his job was a hard one. Still, you stupidly kept grabbing your phone, desperate for any notification or noise.

Only to be met with silence.

notes : thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter :( !! i feel truly grateful. also... feeling evil i love fucking stuff up for simon.

[st4rymoon]

𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐧

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐛 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: breeding kink, love hate relationship, rough Loki, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie!, pet names, angry sex, Beat tamer Loki, ass smacking!, reader comes off as innocent (Loki loves it), some degrading, hard dom loki,

Loki was never fond of back talk and attitude but somehow ended up falling for someone who had all the qualities he resented.

“Aren’t you going to say something love?” He cooed as he had you pinned onto the desk, hand wrapped around your mouth as he pounded into you.

This was your punishment. The punishment Loki loved giving. You dared to snap back at him for no absolute reason while you got paired together; always on purpose as Tony enjoyed pissing Loki off and also found it entertaining how the both of you fought.

The second you were done with your mission Loki had you wrapped around him and bouncing on his cock as he fucked his anger out. “You wanted this didn’t you darling?” He huffed.

“The pride and joy of shield loves getting some manners fucked into her huh? You love knowing everyone despises me, they think I’m taking advantage of your sweet innocence? They have no fucking clue about how much you begged me too fuck you.” he hissed.

You let out a muffled cry as he yanked you onto his chest with a fist full of your hair in hand. He never removed his hand from your mouth as he tightly tugged your hair back “such a pretty girl with no manners. Such a shame you aren’t even answering my questions” he teased.

You shook your head as you tried to answer but were only met with Lokis cock plunging deep into your cunt messily. He was purposely making you feel guilty for not answering yet giving you no way of doing so.

Your nails clawed at his arms as Loki’s thrusts began to knock the wind out of you. Your pussy clenched around him in agony as you felt yourself slipping away from sanity.

Tears stained your face as you came around him, cock fucking into you with full force as he molded your body perfectly into his.

Your back curled at the sound of Loki’s voice rumbling through you, his loud moans causing you sink into the cold wood. “That’s it darling, I know you love it” he cooed.

His hand gave you a harsh slap on your ass before giving it a nice squeeze. He panted as he watched himself disappearing inside you while he spread you open. His eyes rolled at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock, you always took him so well.

He loved knowing everyone thought you were so innocent. He loved the thought that only he knew how needy and worked up you got from the smallest things. Sometimes you even manage to shock him with your dirty little pleads while in a meeting.

Loki let out a gruntled moan as he came inside you. His seed spilling deep inside you as he held you down, hips pressing into yours. He thrusted a few more times just to make sure he fucked himself nicely inside you.

The moans coming from the both of you were pornographic, the visual was sinful.

And Loki loved it.

[bravo4iscool]

Thank you so much for your last fic you did for me! It was so amazing! If you don't mind, could you do either a Price or Johnny (or both) x plus-size reader where the reader is head over heels for them but doesn't think they'd look at her twice, and so she accepts a date from someone else and it makes them jealous and possessive bc that's *their* girl? And it can be NSFW or not, I'll leave that up to you! Thank you so much lovely, I hope you're well!

i’m so happy you liked that and it was so fun writing it!

your requests sounds amazing, thank you so much for it🫶🏼

i’ll write a one shot for soap and one for price (separately), if you’re okay with that?

this one will be price’s and i’ll try to get soap’s done as soon as possible! (this feels so ooc, i’m so sorry😭)

(ghost one shot | masterlist | join my tag list!)

tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus @jenniferpendragon

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

your head shoots up and you look at yourself in the mirror when you hear a harsh knock on your door. is that your date already?

you give yourself one last look before you hurry towards the door, trying to put your shoes on at the same time.

once you get to the door you smooth down your sundress and take a deep breath. then you open the door. when you see who’s on the other side of it you freeze for a second.

“john? what the hell are you doing here?” you stare at him, too confused to form a coherent thought. without saying anything he gently pushes you aside and enters your flat.

“some birdie told me something,” he says as he closes the door and looks at you. “why are you wearing that?” he looks you up and down.

you frown and look down at yourself. “i’m going on a date, is that forbidden?” you put your hands on your hips as you wait for an answer. why was he sticking his nose into your business.

john lets his eyes drift across your body again before he looks at you. “you’re not going,” he then says, pushing you further back into your own flat. “you will stay here.”

you immediately shake your head. “nu-uh. absolutely not!” you push his hands off you. “what makes you think you can decide about me that way, huh?”

fury lights up in his eyes and he grabs your arms again. “you’re mine. mine. you understand that? ain’t no man will touch you,” he hisses, his face slowly coming closer to yours.

for a second your eyes widen and you swallow but then your brain sets back in and you shake your head. “i’m not yours john. i never was.”

“that’s not true.”

you grit your teeth. “oh, but it is.” you rip your arms from his grip, spin around and stalk towards your bathroom to get your phone. you would call your date now and ask him when he would finally arrive.

but before you can even think about dialling your date’s number john takes the phone from your hand and lets it slip into the back pocket of his jeans. “absolutely not,” he says while he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

you let out a frustrated groan and throw your hands in the air. was he serious right now? how dare he?! “give me back my phone john. now.”

“not happening.”

“i swear, you’re insufferable! you don’t look at me twice during the day and now that i want to go out and have a little fun you walk into my flat like you fucking own the place and act like you have any power over me?” you’re furious with him, jabbing your finger at his chest with a glare.

you catch him off guard for a second and he only stares at you but he’s fast to gain his composure back. he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his body. “do you even hear yourself?” he asks, slowly lowering his head to look in your eyes. “you think i don’t look at you? you think i don’t admire you and the way your hips swirl every time you walk away from me?” his voice gets lower. “you drive me crazy darling.”

the pet name is heavy on his tongue and you swallow. hard. “you are like a drug,” he continues. “and you know i despise those but i simply can’t get enough of you.”

“you’re lying,” you manage to rasp out, not believing that after all those years captain john price might like you back…

“i’m not.”

you shake your head and pull yourself away from him again. “no, you’re lying. all those—all those girls you took out they look nothing like me, they’re all—“ you take a deep breath. “there’s no way that you’re possibly attracted to me!” you argue, deep down wanting to believe the words he said.

you turn away but he grabs your hand again, not wanting to let go of you. “listen, listen darling.” there’s a vulnerability in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “listen to me.”

“why?”

“because there’s something untold between us.”

“and what?”

john takes a deep breath and his gaze darts to the ground. “the love i feel for you.” his eyes find yours after a few seconds and he searches for an answer.

you open your mouth to say something but you can’t manage to actually get any words out. “john—“

he cups your cheek as he walks closer to you. “don’t say anything darling… just let me kiss you, will you?” he asks, his thumb caressing your cheek bone. “just this once, please…”

you swallow before you nod and give him a quiet ‘yes’. when your lips finally collide with his a firework exploded within you. a fire ignites and you don’t know what you do. you start to claw at his arms, trying to touch him, to feel him.

“oh darling,” john groans against your lips while he pushes you back against the wall, his hands suddenly on your hips, squeezing your plush flesh. “been wanting to do that for so long.”

he moans against your lips when your hands start to roam across his shoulders towards his throat and up into his hair.

john when just started to let his hands wander down your body towards your core the bell rung. you looked at him—completely out of breath from the kissing—and pointed your head towards the door. “you gonna cancel that for me.”

he grins, “of course darling.”

(maybe i’ll write the smut for this separately but i wasn’t really in the mood😭)

[random-fandom1984]

Hi!! 😆

May I request TFP Yandere Soundwave x human reader?

Thank for reading this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง✨

Sorry if it doesn't have that much yandere as you were hoping for.

Okay, so, the only way I can see that you could've gotten his attention is either you're related to one of the three human charges – family or friend. Because of that, you don't know about the Autobots and Decepticons.

Soundwave was given the mission to find out more about the human pets, through humans that are close to them. Out of all of their family and friends, he chose you.

He only went through some of your info, and you're a friend of Miko's host parents that lives in a state up north, in Gravity Falls, Oregon (Yes, I'm making a little crossover with GF, but TFP came out 2 years before Gravity Falls existed, so Weirdmageddon hasn't happened yet, nor have the Pine Twins visited yet.)

You've met Miko a few times when you've came to visit, and it's best to say you don't like how loud, irresponsible, foolish, and doesn't understand people's boundaries. You were a rather quiet introverted person, and she was an overbearing extrovert, so you two didn't mix well.

When it was Christmas last year, they were at your family gathering, and she almost got your cousins hurt with firecrackers, who were mainly toddlers and young children. She even said, quote-unquote, that "They needed to live a little and not have helicopter parents deciding everything for them." The thing was that your aunts and uncles weren't helicopter parents, they were normal, calm, and understanding parents!

Miko was one of the main reasons why you lost faith in humanity, and you despised her with a burning passion. You even told this to her in her face, but she would say that you're just grumpy and should take a nap. As if you were a little child that didn't know better!

You work as an online artist that takes request for people who can't draw certain things like, animals, details, DND characters, Oc's etc.

As time went on, he was starting to get obsessed with learning more about you, and he knows more about you than anyone else you know in your life. Your favorite animal are birds, your favorite color is d/s/f/c (Dark Shade of Favorite Color), you hate people, don't like talking, have a pet European Starling named Jermey, after the crow in the Secret of Nimh because of his love for shiny and sparkly things, who is also the model for your watermarks on your designs, you like dying your hair, and so much more.

You were having a normal day, doing a live stream as you were taking requests from your viewers, when this one person in particular to do a city made out of metal, the people are robots that can transform, and even gave you an image that they "made" that was called Kaon. Interested, you took up this challenge.

It was safe to say that Soundwave wasn't disappointed with the end results of it; It looked magnificent. The image of his home was nostalgic of the good old days of Cybertron, when it wasn't just him and Laserbeak, when all of his children minicons were still alive.

The two of you kept in contact and became friends on the internet. You would tell each other about how your days went; you were told that he works as one of the higher ups in a company, has to deal with an annoying, loud, arrogant assistant of his boss – reminds you of a certain someone –, has a pet bird, is introverted, doesn't talk, doesn't like humanity- you're already hooked.

You turned a blind eye to things, like how he somehow knows where you live, find out about private accounts on social media, knows that you're talking to someone even when there's barely any people around, kind of seeming jealous/overprotective over text. The hardest one to do is when someone insults or steals your art, only to end up severely or lightly wounded somewhere between the next day to the end of the week, saying that a robot version of Slenderman or a metal bird that has an origami themed shape, etc.

There were a few things that caught your attention. How he uses the wrong terminology for things such as units time, parts of the body, even saying organics, fleshies, humans instead of people or others by their names. You were suspicious but brushed it off every time it happens.

At the beginning of Soundwave's his sire growing obsession, Laserbeak didn't even understand what was so great about you. But it changed when he was shot down by Autobots and landed out in the woods, you found him, and repaired him. During his stay, he made friends with Jeremy, and during repairs, you were gentle as you could be when fixing him up, your touched were light, you asked if what you were doing was alright, and he honestly thought of those human films where the mother would help their child when they get an injury. In this situation, he was your the child, and you were his the mother; he understood now.

Knowing Laserbeak's existence was the reason why it was a little hard to turn a blind eye to those that were injured.

When Laserbeak returned, he gave the information to Soundwave, and that's when Soundwave knew that you were the one to complete the family.

When the both of you actually met face-to-face is when you texted him that an ex of yours came back is so persistent on getting back together and won't leave you alone. When it was night, your ex cornered you, and was ranting on and on about how you should be grateful that he's giving you a second chance, even though you were the one to break up with him, only to end up dead on the pavement. You looked up to see Soundwave himself.

The first thought that came to mind didn't revolve around fear. No! It was 'Oh, god, he looks hot-'

So, you were taken aboard the Nemesis, you became a part of the Con Crew. 1.) Because you're close, in a way, to one of the Autobot's human pets; 2.) You hated humans just as much as they did; 3.) It's Soundwave. Megatron trusts him with any decision of his. A reason Soundwave gave, in public? A human to spy on the Autobots- Shut the fuck up random Vehicon, this is a human spy, not Makeshift. This isn't like Starscream's plan.

This happened only a day after Optimus Prime became Orion Pax. Soundwave had a feeling that something might happen, so he had you wear something that will cover up everything, mainly your head/face. He knows the archivist is smart, and if he were to revert back to Optimus, then he would recognize who you are.

Often times, some Vehicons would make comments about a human joining the ranks, or try to get rid of you, and they were met with an electric end.

It was only about a week later, after Orion became Optimus again, when they decided how they were going to get you in their base, and with the help of the newly arrived Dreadwing, they can do just that.

Part 2 coming soon...

So, basically this was a yandere x willing reader. I just hope you're satisfied.

[8myass]

OH MY GOD HIIII ur blog looks supa cool it’s so nice to meet u lele 😁😁

can i be 🧺 anon and request haechan hate sex 🥴🥴🥴 god i’m obsessed w that man

hi hi! thank you so much! of course, you can be 🧺 anon! thank you for making the first-ever request on my page. it was super fun to write this! i, too, am very obsessed with this man, he's genuinely too fine. i hope you enjoy it!! pairing. lee donghyuck/haechan x female reader genre. angst, smut (w plot) pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) wc. 1.6k cw. enemy!haechan, slight bimbo!reader, mean dom!hae, bratty sub!reader tw. alcohol consumption, mentions infidelity and breakup, slight dubcon aspects (bc of the wording, it seems very noncon at first), cursing, mentions blood, name calling (‘bitch’, ‘whore’, ‘toy’), face-fucking, deepthroating, degradation, slight praise (typically only ever mixed with degradation), hate sex (obvi), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), ass slapping, pet names (‘babe’, ‘baby’), hair pulling, breeding, haechan’s just mean idk??

“Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?” Haechan frowned, his vision blurred from an extensive amount of alcohol, hung over your shoulder as you dragged him to your car, somehow being left with the responsibility of taking him home after he was found passed out on your friend’s couch. Your friend claimed she had to clean the party that wiped through her house like a hurricane but fell asleep in the bathroom by the toilet, droplets of vomit littering the toilet seat, and more chunks in the bowl. 

You rolled your eyes, popping open the door of the passenger’s side to your vehicle, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Throwing him in the car, you shut the door and dragged your feet to the driver’s side door, sitting down to instantly start the engine up. He didn’t buckle up, slouching down in the seat, eyes dazed. You looked over at him and sighed, shaking your head, “What happened to you, man? Why’d you drink so much?”

“My girl cheated on me,” he laughed, the amusement in his tone holding the deepest pain you remember hearing your entire life. “We’re not together anymore.”

You didn’t know how to reply, never feeling so much sympathy for someone who you despised so incredibly. “Do you miss her?”

“How could I not? She was my world all through high school, no one else meant as much to me as she did,” he exhaled deeply, his voice cracking, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. 

You sat in silence for a couple of minutes, the drive becoming awkward in the quietness. You still didn’t know what to say, unable to comprehend whether he wanted to find comfort in you at such an awful time. 

“It’s right here,” he pointed out the window as you pulled up his street, stepping on the brakes as soon as you heard his words. 

“This place?” you scoffed, looking at him with your typical disgusted expression, accidentally forgetting the deep emotional conversation you two just had. The place was old, moss growing up the sides of the former white-painted house that had now turned brown due to being behind on cleaning. The windows were clouded, blinds pale and stained, the wood of the door cracked. “It’s a dump.”

He sighed lowly, getting out of the car with a quick shove, turning on his heels to look at you, “Can you come in?”

“You want me to come into your house?” you raised an eyebrow, but something told you to accept his offer, “Fine, just until you sober up.”

You unbuckled and followed him into his garbage site that he claimed was his house, watching him chug water bottle after water bottle sitting at the small, two-person table across from him. 

“Don’t choke, I might laugh,” you chuckled as he continued to gulp down the remaining water in the bottle, eyes narrowing while looking at you. 

“You’re annoying,” he huffed, slamming the bottle down on the table. 

“Yeah, not the first time you’ve told me that,” you snorted, “Are you sobered up yet? Can I go now, Mr. I-need-you-to-come-help-make-sure-I-don’t-choke-on-my-own-vomit?”

“Screw you,” he groaned, standing up and throwing away the plastic bottle into the green recycling bin next to his dirtied fridge. You stood up as well, hurrying toward the door, taking that as a ‘get the hell out, bitch’. Typically, that’d be what that meant, you weren’t wrong for thinking that. 

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice right next to your ear as your body was pressed against the door before your hand could reach the doorknob.

“I’m leaving, you’re sober now,” you squirmed in his grip, his thumbs pressed to the back of your hips to hold your body against the chilled wood. “Don’t touch me, let go of me.”

“Why would I do that? I’m finally available, I can finally touch you how I please,” he hummed, one finger tracing down your spine, his opposing hand slipping up your skin-tight dress, pressing his palm against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

“Don’t touch me,” you growled, squirming more aggressively in his grasp. “You’re disgusting, I hate you. Let me go before I kick your dick in.”

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he managed to flip your fussy form around so he could look into your pleading eyes. In an instant, you were on your knees, cock down your throat, gagging you to the point of tears pouring down your cheeks, slobber coating your chin as his balls smacked the remnants of your filth off your face and down onto your thighs. 

“Fuck, bitch, that’s so good,” he moaned, smirk popping onto his face as his head fell back. Your tongue looped around his cock as he repeatedly fucked your face, your nails digging into the skin of his thighs so tightly that it nearly drew blood. His fingers were laced through your hair, keeping your head in place as he thrusts himself into your mouth. He scrunched his nose up a few times as he felt your teeth brush against his dick, “A little less teeth, okay?”

“What’s the matter? Don’t act like you haven’t done this before, I’m sure you’ve had a cock down your throat every night since we last saw each other,” he scoffed, looking down at the way your eyes gazed at him with a gentle glint in them. You had only just seen him a few days ago, but you have been with a man every night since then. It was a good time killer, how could you not let some random guy fuck the daylights outta you just for funsies? “You never had something so big down your throat, is that the problem?”

You gagged in response to his question, drool pooling out around the seams of your mouth. His cock was coated in your sticky saliva by now, his tip reaching down your throat, precum leaking out around it. 

“You sound so much better gagging on my dick,” he chuckled, forcing himself entirely into your mouth until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, choking on the cum pouring out of his tip as trails of moans came out of his hung open mouth. “Yeah, that’s so fucking good, babe.”

After pulling out of your weak mouth, you didn’t have much time to bitch at him before you were bent over the table, dress forced up and panties ripped off, already rehardened cock slipped inside your dripping cunt. 

“So wet? Is this for me?” he muttered against the skin of your neck, moans spilling from your parted lips, throat way too sore to reach the volumes you currently were. “Did you like sucking my cock? How about this? Do you like this, hm?”

You frantically nodded as you felt his hands slide up your dress to roughly play with your boobs, thumbs circling over your sensitive nipples, “Ye-yeah, feels good.”

“Fuck, you’re such a whore, you know that?” he growled, smacking your ass after pulling his hand from your boob, the other one still lingering. “Gonna let me fuck you like this after just claiming you hate me?”

“I do hate you,” you scoffed, trying to sound strong, but your voice came out more unstable than you had originally planned. You did hate him, you just might not have hated this moment. The sex was good, I mean, how could you say no?

“I hate you too, don’t worry,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull your head toward him, your back pressed against his chest. “I’m using you, baby. Only to pass the time, only to get her off my mind. You are simply a toy, that’s all.”

“You think she’s ever gonna come back?” you mocked, head slightly turning so your eyes could meet his, which had soon turned into a glare directed at you, “I can’t be a placeholder for someone who’s not coming back.”

“Shut the fuck up, toy,” he growled, upper lip twitching as he pushed you back down onto the table, pressing his palm to the center of your back to hold you there as the other gripped your hip tightly, his thrusts becoming harder yet sloppier. 

He was beyond enraged by your comments, and the movements of his own hips against your poor body really showed that. You were a whimpering and crying mess as soon as he became angry with you, almost making you want to sob out an apology, but you wouldn’t degrade yourself so much as to actually apologize to him, it’s bad enough you were letting him fuck you.

“I think you’re gonna make a good cumdump from now on,” he moaned loudly, his moans echoing throughout the rest of the kitchen. “I’ll use you however I please.”

“Scr-screw y-you,” you whined, continuing to be a little bitch to him, not realizing where it gets you. 

He groaned as he continued thrusting himself into you, head falling back as he smacked your ass again at your words. You squealed and dipped your head down against the table, burying your forehead into your arms. Your bodies colliding rocked the entire table, the sound of its creaking spread through the room.

Soon enough, he had let loose strands of cum inside you, feeling his hot liquid fill your insides as loud moans flew out of his mouth, desperate and frantic cries falling out of you, your release also shaking your body, cum seeping out around his cock. 

“Shit, maybe we should do this more often,” he’d say only as he’s rebuttoning his pants and you’re fixing your dress, wiping your mouth of the drool that poured out of the corners of your lips, patting away the dried tears coating your flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, whatever,” you rolled your eyes and stormed out of his house, ‘hoping’ you’d never see him again, but knowing damn well you’d cave and show up to his place the following night, all for a round two…

[pinovapie]

DRDT Headcanons!! (1/idk)

Decided to post some headcanons for various characters!! (there might be some mild projection on my favourites lol) idk if i'll do more for other characters?? Also, sorry for less Teruko HCs,,, i meant to do 5 for each but uh,,, you can tell who my favourites are i guess??

Also, disclaimer, these are headcanons!! I wrote these before Chap 2 Part 2, they may be disproven and become out of date in the future!!

Under a read more to not clog up space,, also TW: (unintentional) Self harm

Ace:

He grew up on a farm.

His parents had a ton of kids in the hopes that at least one would be successful. Whoever got the best test results/ won an award/ has the highest salary (based on age, idk how old Ace's siblings are) was the favourite and showered with attention.

This meant Ace and his siblings grew up willing to literally and metaphorically shove eachother face first in the mud to be the favourite child. There was a lot of sabotage, insults and threats constantly.

He struggles to form meaningful friendships due to trust issues.

He'll hold a grudge for years. He probably still despises and talks shit about some kid who stole his chair when they were 6 or something.

He used to love animals until one day he woke up and the world was more terrifying than he remembered. The comforting bark of a dog is now a horrifying sound that sends him spiraling with panic.

He's overly sensitive to light and sound.

He chews his lip, bites his nails and scratches his arms/wrists when bored or uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he always wears gloves, to do less damage?

Nico:

Sometimes when it's too much they'll go non verbal. They're fluent in sign language as a result.

They sometimes judge the things people name their pets. They'd never say it out loud but they think certain pets have really stupid names.

They struggle with tone, often coming across as sarcastic and fed up when they're being genuine.

If they get postively overwhelmed (like flustered due to compliments etc.) they make cat noises instead of speaking (like meows, chirps, etc.). They find in really embarrassing.

If they are in a downward spiral, they'll grip something (their cloak, hair, a soft toy, etc.) and just hold on to try and ground themselves.

Nico took a couple skirts from the dress-up room to wear in private.

In a non killing game au, they'd join Rose in painting more frequently. They end up preferring watercolours though.

They may have a journal where they might talk shit about certain individuals in the class.

Teruko:

Despite her trust issues and bad luck with relationships, she's a romantic at heart. It may take a while for her to admit her feelings but she'd like someone to give her flowers and take her to dinner just as much as anyone else.

She likes horror films because she can experience the thrill without being in danger. I think she'd also like those rollar coaster simulators since an actual rollar coaster would probably be too dangerous with her luck.

She loves sliced cheese because she can avoid having to cut cheese with a knife. Similarly, she'll spread spreads with a spoon because it's less risking than with a knife.

Due to constantly moving, she owned a couple of those plastic picnic sets (the plate, bowl, cup sets) and had to wash them frequently. As a result she's secretly super grateful to Hu and Eden for cleaning after meals because it's one less thing to worry about.

She had to remind Charles to seperate his dark and light washing a couple times, even after the initial explanation of washing machines.

Levi:

He's on the Asexual spectrum. Like he'd never consider it himself but if his partner wanted to, he'd be comfortable with it because he likes making his partner happy.

He's usually trying to keep the peace but he will argue with friends or customers if they try to pick/buy a god awful outfit.

He worked at a boutique before becoming a personal stylist. He kept giving customers unwanted fashion advice that made their outfits the talk of the town. Word spread and after a little while people started showing up for the advice.

Does not understand humour or sarcasm at all.

He's fond of baby animals but would never hold one out of fear of hurting it.

In a non killing game au, he'd probably find out peoples fashion preferences so he can get them suitable clothes as presents.

He's probably the only cast member to politely listen to Veronika's rambles without wanting to throw up. He'd probably get roped into movie nights after Arturo and Ace triple locked their doors to avoid such movie nights.

Various people have caught him raiding sweet foods (sometimes even just eating sugar straight out the bag) at like 3am on multiple occasions.

[sleepysnk]

a/n: i really wanted to write something for hanma because i missed him a lot </3 so i hope you guys enjoy this!! i felt like something fluffy would work with him this time, so <3.

pairings: hanma shuji x fem!reader

warnings: some brief angst, fluff leading to smut, mentions of violence (not towards reader), established relationship, mentions of food, brief jealousy mentions, nsfw, vanilla sex, use of pet names (baby, babydoll, doll), light choking if you squint, breeding kink, creampie, after care, fluffy hanma.

synopsis: you and hanma had been together for two years. he never thought in a million years that you would both last this long, so he wanted to do something special for you on your special day. you deserved the world, and he was going to be the one to give you it. he had many ideas in mind, but the main one was showing you how much he loved you.

his always and forever ft. hanma shuji

Hanma Shuji was truly blessed to have someone like you in his life. Let alone having you as his girlfriend.

Today was your two year anniversary. It was a date that was imprinted on his brain from the moment you said yes to being his. He was so thrilled to have such a great woman in his life. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself to bless him with your love. You made him such a happier man, and your presence as a whole came at such a difficult moment in his life. In a way, he could say that you saved him from doing the worst to himself or even others.

Hanma had done plenty of bad things in his life. He had fought men who had a debt to the gang he was in, he often drank until his vision was completely blurred, and he even severed ties with family that tried their best to do good for him. He was truly lost before you came. He spent his days wandering his large apartment without a single person to occupy it with him. It was lonely and he despised that feeling more than he would like to admit. He desired someone to share his place with and have someone to come home to every night. Sure, he had hooked up with plenty of women beforehand. Some of them were great and even potential candidates for that lifestyle, but the others were only into him for a cash grab and that was it. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be with a woman who only saw him as a piggy bank for whatever shopping spree they wanted to go on. Hanma wanted peace and one person he could rely on, but at the time, he knew that wouldn’t happen. He was a thug, a criminal, no one would want a man like him.

But then, everything changed the day he came across you.

Hanma had a very long day. He was exhausted with all he had to do, so he decided to make a stop at a cafe he had visited many times before. It was sort of busy for a late afternoon day, but that never really provoked the man that much. He paid for his coffee and waited patiently behind a few people. He became distracted by his cell phone because Kisaki had been in his messages for some reason asking about a recent incident that took place. Hanma was about to respond, but when piping hot coffee began to scald his chest that message was discarded.

He looked up, feeling furious about what had just gone down. However, those feelings had disappeared when he made eye contact with you. You were standing there with a very apologetic facial expression. The coffee you once held in your right hand was now splattered onto the floor, and some of it had gotten into Hanma’s plain white shirt. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and you wanted to melt into the floor with how shitty you felt. He was a complete stranger, an intimidating one at that. He was taller than you by a few inches, and he honestly had a scary look in his eye that would send any man or woman running for their lives.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there! Oh, god.. let me help clean you up..”

Hanma was stunned at your beauty. He wasn’t even angry about his suit anymore. All his brain was fixated on was you and how your fingertips felt rubbing the thin napkins against his chest and his abdomen. You looked like you were about to burst into tears from how afraid you looked. He began to feel guilty for shooting you such a glare, because you genuinely seemed very sorry for such actions. 

“No worries.. thank you for your help, doll.”

When the pet name slipped from his lips you froze on the spot. Someone as attractive as him was calling you that? It felt almost hard to believe at the time, but you were instantly relieved to hear that he wasn’t angry with you over the accident you created. Hanma honestly began to feel bad for you, though. Your coffee was spilled all over the tiled floor, and many people were still staring at the two of you with these wide eyes that bored into both of your heads. He often hated attention like that. Some people just didn’t know how to mind their own business nowadays. It was a small mistake. It wasn’t like you had a breakdown in the middle of the cafe and threw your coffee at him.

“Let me buy you a new coffee..”

“What? N-No! That was my fault-“

“Doll, it’s fine. I have nowhere else to be and all I need is your order.”

To be honest, you hesitated at such a gesture from the mysterious man. Neither of you knew each other, but he was being so kind to you yet you almost burned his skin with the beverage you swore you were holding onto with all your strength. However, you agreed and gave him your coffee order. He simply went to the barista and paid for it, but you were a bit confused why he was taking so long to come back. You wondered about his motives, but when he grabbed his own coffee and waved as he passed you, you felt disappointed. You thought that maybe you would spark a conversation with him, but alas, that didn’t seem very likely.

Once your coffee was done, you walked past several customers and grabbed it off of the counter. Though, the cup wasn’t blank, and there was something written on the side of it.

“Call me sometime <3 let me buy you an actual drink- Hanma Shuji.”

That’s how your romance had blossomed to what it was today. Hanma wasn’t expecting you to call him that night after the whole incident at the cafe, but he was relieved to hear your voice. The two of you chatted all night about anything that came about in the conversation. Although you didn’t reach very personal levels, Hanma was very interested in knowing things about you. He asked about what you did for a living, if you had any siblings, what kind of food you liked, etc. Talking to you made him so happy and he was so excited to hear that you wanted to go on a date with him at some point. Hearing those words made sunlight shine into his heart, clearing the storm clouds that had surrounded it for such a long time. He knew moving at such a pace could result in some negative reactions, but you seemed different. He was well aware that it sounded cliché of him to say such a thing, but it was how he felt about you. He couldn’t deny that one bit.

Weeks turned to months and eventually two years later you were both still together.

You had zero regrets about saying yes to Hanma all those years ago. He treated you like a princess and spoiled you rotten with whatever you wanted. He was a bit reluctant to let you in at first, considering he had been abandoned many times before by different women, but you assured him that you were sticking around for the long run no matter what. You got to see the real Hanma Shuji, and it was honestly beautiful. He may have had some flaws, but you did too. You were both able to work through those things and be patient with one another. There may have been a few rough days and some fights, but even through that you both fell in love with each other. 

You were able to change Hanma for the better. He was so happy to have found you, and being by your side benefited him in so many ways. He couldn’t ever imagine himself being with another woman besides you. He was fully convinced that he had found his soulmate.

He couldn’t believe that two years had passed. He had so many things planned for the two of you that day, and he couldn’t wait to get started with you by his side. 

The morning began with Hanma making you some delicious breakfast in bed. He was not the greatest cook, but living on his own for almost ten years taught him a lot about cooking and having to rely on home meals rather than ordering take out from the nearest restaurant. He made you some eggs and some really fluffy pancakes with your favorite fruit on top. It was adorable and waking up to the aroma of food made you so happy. The breakfast was delicious and Hanma’s heart warmed when he saw your pretty smile flash when you began to eat your pancakes. He knew they were a favorite of yours. Sometimes you’d only eat his, nobody else’s. It made him feel proud as your boyfriend that he was able to make you happy with his food. 

“Happy Anniversary, babydoll. I love you..”

In the afternoon, he took you out for lunch. He even took you out shopping afterwards to splurge on whatever you wanted. It was adorable to see you walking around the many stores with different items in your hands. You often told Hanma that you didn’t need his money to make you happy, but he insisted that you use it. He made more than enough for all the bills to be paid, so it was no problem at all if he wanted to spoil you for a bit. Despite that, you rarely ever spent more than you needed. You did live a rather comfortable lifestyle, but there was that side of you that wanted to consider Hanma’s feelings as well. 

Once you both arrived home, Hanma was excited to make dinner for you both. There was a toss up between going out and eating at another restaurant somewhere downtown, but you told him you were fine with whatever he wanted to do. He took it upon himself to learn a new recipe for you. He worried he would totally light the kitchen on fire if he wasn’t careful with what he was doing, but it had all gone completely smoothly and he was proud of himself. You were also quite surprised to see that he had been successful in making your supper. Hanma hadn’t always been a fan of working in the kitchen, so seeing him do such a great job made you so happy. The food also smelled divine. Your mouth was watering the second you sat down at the table to eat it. Hanma was a bit worried that you may not like it or you would have a negative reaction to his cooking, but much to his surprise, your face lit up with happiness when the flavors reached your tongue. It was so great. Pride swelled inside his chest when you started smiling at him and looking at him with love in your eyes.

“This is so good, baby! You really outdid yourself with this!”

God, it was like he was falling in love with you all over again.

The feelings Hanma had for you were so overwhelming he could almost break down and cry from how intense it was. He never imagined he would be cooking a meal for a woman he had been dating for two years. He didn’t think the day would ever come that you would move in with him and sleep beside him in the same bed every single night. He felt so lucky to have found someone as great as you even though he had been surrounded with darkness for so long. You helped him escape and surrounded him with such light that the abyss he was once in seemed to be a forgotten memory. 

After dinner was finished, you both retired to your bedroom where Hanma found himself wanting to give you one more anniversary present. 

Himself.

Hanma was hovering above your naked body. His cock was splitting your cunt apart with every rut of his hips. You two had been at it for quite a bit. He had kept up with quite a slow and tender pace. Hanma told himself he wasn’t going to rush such an intimate moment with you on a day like that. He had plenty of time with you to make it nasty and rough, but right now, all he was focusing on was you. Your pretty voice called for him and made his cock twitch. He had sex with you many times prior to this moment, but you never failed to amaze him with your angelic beauty. Your delicate skin, gorgeous face, there was so much to love about you. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of your form that was taking him so well. He could make love to you like that all day if he really wanted to. There was nothing to get bored of.

Your nails clawed into the skin of his shoulders. Marks covered his flesh, but he didn’t bat a single eye at that. You were in utter bliss underneath your boyfriend. He never failed to make you feel good. Hanma knew your body better than anybody else and he made you feel so much ecstasy. “Ah..! Hanma! So good..” you made eye contact with the man above you. Your eyes were somewhat blurry from the pleasure that he allowed to ripple through your body.

Hanma was sweating. A few strands of his dual colored hair clung to his forehead from the moisture that had collected itself on his skin. He loved whenever his name slipped off your tongue like he was a prayer. Hanma couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his features when he heard your whines for him. You were so beautiful and good for him. You deserved all the pleasure that was coming to you tonight. “Yeah, keep sayin’ my name, baby. Fuck.. I love you so much..” he placed his hand around the base of your throat, holding you in place so he could stare at your pretty face while he thrusted up into you. 

You let your jaw fall slack as the euphoria you felt increased with every movement. He reached spots inside of your pussy that made you see stars within your vision. Hanma couldn’t believe that a whole stupid coffee incident allowed him to meet someone like you. He always imagined that he would reach the end of his life alone without a single person to share himself with, but having you completely changed that outlook for him. Your presence alone lit up his life and allowed him to see things through a different perspective. You truly blessed him more than you realized, and he couldn’t believe that you didn’t leave him in those two years you’ve been together. Hanma sometimes thought he didn’t deserve you. He imagined at some point you would find someone better than him and you’d leave him, but you didn’t and he was so happy that you gave him a chance.

Sure, you had your ugly days, but even through that you both worked on those issues and continued loving one another without having a second thought about it.

Hanma’s free hand went to intertwine with your own. He leaned down to press his forehead against you and allowed eye contact to be connected between you both. His honey eyes were blown with lust and staring at you with such admiration you could melt from just one glance from him. You smiled when your eyes flickered around his handsome face. There was no one cuter than Hanma Shuji. He was perfect in every little aspect. 

He then kissed you, which took you by surprise. It was soft and gentle. His lips felt like you were kissing two soft pillows that you couldn’t pull away from. He was such a good kisser. It was one of the many things you loved about Hanma. His kisses could sweep you right off of your feet and you would grow weak in the knees whenever his lips brushed against yours. It was slow, but his tongue would occasionally brush against your bottom lip to try and gain access to your mouth. You obliged and allowed him in, deepening the kiss between you both. The pleasure was just too good. 

You gasped when he finally reached your g-spot, sending bolts of electricity along your belly. Hanma smirked in the kiss when that pretty noise escaped your lips. He had no problem discovering that delicious spot inside of you. He squeezed your throat slightly, but not hard enough to restrict your breathing. “Heh.. look at you, babydoll. You’re takin’ my cock so well..” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine from how hot his voice sounded in your ears. “Wanna cum, baby? You’re really fucking tight right now..”

Your orgasm was creeping upon you faster than you had expected, but nonetheless you craved it more than anything else. Your hands gripped Hanma’s shoulders tightly, fearing he might disappear from his spot between your legs. With every thrust, the pit in your belly grew larger and you became even more needy than before. “Y-Yes! Hanma, please..! ‘Need you!” you whined, sharply. 

Hanma fucking loved hearing how desperate you were for that release inside your gut. He then began to fuck you just a bit faster this time. It was nothing too aggressive or quick for your liking, but it was just enough to really wind you up. The noises slipping from your throat made him smirk and watch you with seduction. He loved you so much when you were like this. He realized that you were a goddess and nobody else would ever compare to you in any department. It didn’t matter if you left him at some point. Hanma Shuji would always be devoted to you at the end of the day. He was so deeply in love with you that it almost hurt him to not be by your side. 

You’d be the one he would come home to, always and forever.

Your eyes rolled behind your skull as your orgasm grew closer. You couldn’t help but arch upwards whenever he kissed at your g-spot with the tip of his cock. The moans that came from your mouth were neverendless and Hanma was living for how pretty you sounded under him. He grunted when he felt your walls tightening around him. He was close himself, but all he desired was seeing you reach your high. After several thrusts, your cunt clamped around his cock. Hanma couldn’t help but hiss at the sensation of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. Your moans were much higher as he fucked you through your orgasm. He loved hearing your voice like that. He could play it like his favorite song and never get tired of you. “Fuckkk, yeah.. where do you want my – shit! – my cum, babydoll? Talk to me.. fuck..” he nodded his head, gritting his teeth as the last curse slipped through his mouth. 

“I-Inside! Hanma, inside!” you then locked your ankles around his waist, keeping him nice and snug inside of your dripping cunt.

He couldn’t help but grin at that statement. He wasn’t against it whatsoever, but he was very excited to hear that. He then looked down at you and began to pick up his pace a little. His high was so fucking close he could practically taste the sensation. “Shit.. ‘gonna fill you good, baby. Give you a baby, yeah..? Pregnant with my baby..” he let his head fall backwards as the euphoria took over him.

Within seconds, Hanma reached his climax. Thick white ropes of his cum filled your pussy and reached your womb. Goosebumps littered your skin from the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim. He let out a groan at the affects of his high. It hit him pretty hard, which caused him to tremble a bit. 

After a few minutes, Hanma lied down beside you and pulled you towards him. Both of you were sweating and panting fairly heavily, but that soon calmed when the activities between you two had come to an end. Your ear pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating. It was quite rapid, but once he had you within his arms his beats began to slow down and calm themselves. There was nothing better than holding you after having sex with you. Your skin was so warm underneath his fingertips that you could melt. He didn’t care if you were both dripping with sweat and the smell of sex was lingering around the room. All that mattered was that you were here with him and you were safe in his arms.

He planted a kiss on the top of your head and rested his chin atop it. He couldn’t help but smile at the results of today. It was quite successful and you two had an amazing anniversary with one another. “I love you, doll..” he whispered, squeezing the flesh of your hips softly. “I love you so much.. don’t forget that.”

You grinned, letting your eyes fall shut. “I love you more, Hanma.”