#do not eat any candy this man makes

[itissadbutitsmy-life]

listen I just can’t find fault with a candy person for finding something that unexpectedly brings them joy and doing everything in their power to make it keep happening. I just can’t find it in me to blame them for wanting the approval of the person they love and respect more than anyone else, and wanting that approval over and over again, and I just straight up can’t blame james for figuring out a trick to make his princess smile and call him her hero. like, banana guards get her praise and approval and hugs all the time, but he’s just some random engineer with an easy smile and no one who wants to hang out with him after work. and she likes him so much, she wants him in her kingdom, even when he goes and does something stupid like push her out of the way of a super dangerous not-moving car, at the cost of his own life, she wants him back and she’ll bring him back and she'll tell him that was very brave and she loves him. of course she loves him. she loves all the candy people. but he figured out how to make her look him in the eyes and say it and give him material evidence of her pride. I can’t find it in myself to blame him for that. it wasn't good, i don't think he should have been left unchecked to keep going forever, but i can't blame him for wanting to keep reliving the nice thing that happened once. the really nice thing that happened once that came with material gifts. if she didn’t want to keep doing it she would’ve stopped LONG before there were TWENTY FIVE of them. before she was so fed up that she didn’t even spare him a kind goodbye or a chance to go home one more time.

like you’re not beating the dystopian dictatorship allegations. saying she was right to exile him from the only home he’s ever known with no recourse because he was acting weird. and the thing is, I just can’t find it in me to blame a character living in a dictatorship for getting himself into a situation because he was desperately trying to be happy the best way he could figure out how. I’m not saying he was right, he’s insane, but it just rubs me wrong, the idea that he is the one holding all this heavy blame. the idea that the princess is right to look down at him and shake her head firmly and turn him out in the cold. for chasing the rush that she gave him willingly, over and over, without any specific end parameters. for not being able to make friends, and doing something weird about it. he’s bored and lonely and this works and it’s not, inherently, bad. it really isn’t. it’s batshit, but it’s actually not hurting anyone at all.

[tonycries]

Animals - G.S.

Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)

A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3

“Satoru, you’re being strange.”

Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new. 

Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to. 

Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present. 

“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”

He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”

With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-

And then, it hits you.

Suddenly.

Something smells sweet.

Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.

“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.

“Hm?”

And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”

“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.

You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince. 

Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought- 

No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently. 

Three weeks.

Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?

It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table. 

Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.

This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control. 

Especially now.

But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.

And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.

You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”

“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”

“Satoru’s also-”

“So what?”

Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.” 

You shake your bleary head in protest. 

“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”

Nanami stills - everything stills. 

Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”

Shit. 

Shit shit shit-

“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.

Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.

Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now. 

Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier. 

Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-

As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”

Slam!

“Out.”

It’s a threat.

That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Before you finally understand, it’s a command.

There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.

Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up? 

Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him. 

With you at lucky number one. 

First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him. 

Oh.

Oh. 

And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”

It’s chaos. 

They understood - perhaps long before even you did. 

Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh. 

Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.

Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.” 

Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now. 

Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery. 

But it was undeniable, he was an alpha. 

And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.

“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”

Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him. 

You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin. 

“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”

There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time. 

Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”

Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”

SLAM!

Finally alone.

Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.

And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”

“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”

Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.

But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”

“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”

His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost. 

Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.

You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough. 

Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit. 

“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”

“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”

Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier. 

But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out. 

In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs. 

Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.

“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”

And then you feel him still - alert, ready.

Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”

Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening. 

“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”

“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”

Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.

The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”

And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath. 

“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”

Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.

“Correct.” 

It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you. 

You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants. 

“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”

With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.

And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry. 

He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs. 

“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”

He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.

Like he was addicted.

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”

You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.

Yeah, he was addicted.

Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice. 

Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy. 

“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”

You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.

“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”

“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”

And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy. 

“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”

Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-

And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close. 

“Open.”

It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.

Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago. 

“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?” 

Thwack!

Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words. 

And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that. 

Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”

Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?

Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.

“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-” 

Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences. 

He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.

Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale. 

“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”

And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation. 

Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily. 

It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air. 

And you do, too - though, for much different reasons. 

Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-

“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”

You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-” 

A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.

And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now. 

“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”

Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out. 

Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat. 

“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”

As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily. 

That’s enough to make Gojo lose it. 

And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.

“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin. 

“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”

For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose. 

“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”

But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out. 

“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”

You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion. 

“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”

“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”

How ironic.

All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.

“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-” 

Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”

And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.

Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap. 

To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow. 

The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-

“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”

He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off. 

Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot. 

You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”

“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”

And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths. 

Every single inch.

“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”

You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.

Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full. 

And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-

Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums. 

The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you. 

Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.

You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.

Finally yours. Finally his. 

“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”

And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.

You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you. 

“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”

But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.

Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”

Bang! 

Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.

Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”

It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.

Just enough that he can pull out-

“Toru, what-”

“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”

His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life. 

“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”

Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.

His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls. 

Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy. 

Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already. 

Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!

It’s so shameful and you love it. 

And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!

Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening. 

You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-

“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”

Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily. 

And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears. 

Because you were sucking him up madly. 

Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest. 

And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram. 

Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”

You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.

Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before. 

“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”

It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.

“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”

One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”

And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits. 

Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.

Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks. 

Over and over, he’s cumming nothing. 

“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth. 

Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters. 

“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-”  Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”

Oh. 

And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.

But for now, all you register is soft. 

Warm. 

With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.

“Did- did you teleport-”

“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size. 

You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”

“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”

---

Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month. 

Possibly not walking.

Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app. 

Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually. 

Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.

A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[billgenbrough]

Being autistic and depressed with no income and the most inconsiderate family makes eating so damn hard, and for what

[riboism]

prettiest virgin

》 pairing: dilf! j.yh x fem babysitter! reader

》 wc: 7.8k

》 plot: every night this summer, you fantasized about your boss, Mr. Jeong. babysitting his adorable daughter all summer had turned your small crush on the young, single dad into a lust-filled infatuation. after an awkward encounter that left you both humiliated, you did your best to keep your distance at his daughter’s birthday party. that is, until fate trapped you in a bathroom with him while the party carried on outside.

》 content: oh boy, let's see, age gap, aged up yunho, virgin reader, reader lowkey down bad and porn-obsessed, bathroom sex, mirror sex, panties stay on!! grinding, cowgirl stand and carry, yunho basically using you like a fleshlight, use of sir and good girl, filthy dirty talk, cum eating, cum facial, multiple orgasms, reader obsessed with his cum lol, thigh fucking, sucking his dick while he watches porn??? MONSTER CAWK YUNHO

》 playlist: prettiest virgin- agar agar, candy- doja cat, I fucking lust you- d'african, taste so good- sabrina claudio, less of you- omar apollo, real life- the marias

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again, but here you were, laying in bed with a vibrator cupped to your clit, eyes glued to your phone screen as you tapped on the first video in the big dick category. It took a while for the vibrator to buzz you the right way, but once you found your sweet spot, your head sank lower into your pillow and you had to bite your lip to keep any sounds from slipping out of your mouth. This was the fifth night in a row that you jerked off, and honestly, you were exhausted; Tired of waking up late because of your little late-night endeavors, tired of feeling gross each time your wetness leaked out and stained your panties during the day, and most of all, tired of being a virgin. 

The video you were watching had your favorite pornstar in it. The guy himself wasn’t at all your type, but his cock was pretty. And big. It’s weird to admit, but this is how you imagined Mr. Jeong’s cock looked like. You had been babysitting Mr. Jeong’s six-year-old daughter for the summer while school was out. She was an angel. Hana reminded you a lot of Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls cartoon, with her sweet little voice and sensitive nature. You loved spending time with her. 

Yes, throughout the summer, you had developed a crush on Hana’s Dad. How could you not? He was everything a man ought to be— tall, handsome, and kind. His being a good father was just a plus in your eyes. He worked from home, so you’d see him occasionally throughout the day. During his break, he’d come downstairs from his home office to color with Hana for a few minutes. During lunch, you’d sit with them on the patio, watching with heart eyes as he wiped ketchup off of her little mouth. 

Lately, your infatuation has become all-consuming, and you resorted to buying a vibrator from Amazon to help ease your frustrations. And that’s when this little habit of yours began. It felt odd, at first. You didn’t want to be the type of person who watches porn every night for hours, imagining your boss doing all these things to you. It just sort of happened. And instead of easing your frustrations, it made them worse. 

You hated being a virgin. Vibrators weren’t enough. You, for lack of a better term, needed to be dicked down. Preferably by Mr. Jeong, but that would only happen in your wildest dreams. It wasn’t like he made it easy for you. Yesterday for example, when you were preparing Hana’s PB&J, Mr. Jeong reached over your head to grab a mug from the cupboard above you. “Behind you,” he alerted, his fingers grazing over your waist as he pulled his coffee mug out. You stood frozen, the place where he touched you burning hot on your skin. 

Every time he touches you, whether it’s the accidental brush of his fingers when he hands you your check or the deliberate weight of his hand on your shoulder as he thanks you at the end of the day, it only makes you crave him more and more.

The video you were watching had an obvious size kink going on. The male pornstar was huge, and he was able to pick up his petite partner and fuck into her with ease. Your thighs clenched thinking about Mr. Jeong picking you up like that and pumping you up and down his length, stuffing just the tip of his big cock into you because that’s all that could fit. Your core tightened, and your orgasm was imminent, until…

It died. Your vibrator died. 

“Oh, fuck off!” You cursed, slamming your head back into your pillow. Stupid cheap fucking vibrator. Here’s to another night of being a lonely, twenty-something virgin, going to bed unsatisfied and unwanted. You sighed, exasperated.

Mr. Jeong was older. You didn’t know much about his wife. It was a sensitive topic for him. And Hana was too young to remember her final moments. He couldn’t possibly want anything to do with you, and instead, you filled your head with unrealistic fantasies to keep yourself up at night and made yourself cum to them. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you were around more boys your age. 

Too tired to continue with your fingers, you shifted to your side and tried to make yourself comfortable. It was 4 in the morning now, which meant you’d only get about 3 hours tonight. Just great, you thought to yourself, waiting for the exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep. 

—

You were rather sluggish today, struggling to keep your eyes open as you drove to Mr. Jeong’s house. The cold brew you picked up before heading over there wasn’t much help. Instead, it just made you even more tired. I need to stop jerking off before bed, you told yourself. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant you had enough time to catch up on the lost hours of sleep this weekend. 

You sighed as you measured out the detergent to wash Hana’s favorite tutu, the warm and fuzzy smell of fabric softener reminding you of your blanket at home, making you want to sleep even more. Hana got upset this morning before you dropped her off to ballet practice when some syrup from her drive-thru pancakes dripped onto her tutu. To quiet her tantrum, you promised her you’d go back home to wash it so it's nice and clean for her to wear when she comes back, and that you’d also bring her second favorite tutu for practice— a purplish-blue one with pink glitter dusted around it. It didn’t feel right just washing one piece of clothing, so you decided to go upstairs and quickly grab the dirty clothes from Hana and Mr. Jeong’s hampers. 

You yawned as you made your way up the stairs, stopping by Hana’s room first. Her room was, as always, a chaotic mess—Barbie dolls and crayons scattered across the floor in colorful disarray, old juice boxes, and snack bags left forgotten on the desk. No matter how many times you tried to teach her the importance of cleaning up after herself, the lesson never seemed to stick. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed the clothes from her hamper and stuffed them into the laundry basket.

Leaving her room, you headed toward Mr. Jeong’s, but froze mid-step as a strange, muffled sound reached your ears from his office. At first, you assumed he was in a meeting, but as you drew closer, the noises grew more alarming—strained and uneven, almost as if he were in pain or… crying?

You gently set the laundry basket down on the floor, carefully tiptoeing toward the door. Pressing your ear against the cold, wooden surface, you strained to make sense of the muffled noises coming from inside. A sharp hiss followed by a low, frustrated “fuck” caught you off guard, making your breath hitch.

Startled, you raised a hand and knocked lightly on the door. “Mr. Jeong?” you called softly. No answer. Concern gnawed at you, and without thinking, you turned the knob. The door creaked as it inched open, the sound slicing through the stillness.

“Mr. Jeong, is everything—” you started, stepping inside.

Mr. Jeong swiveled in his chair, his face frozen in a mask of shock and embarrassment. The two of you stood locked in place as if time itself had come to a standstill. The only sounds in the room were the filthy, lewd moans of a woman coming from his computer. Your gaze dropped instinctively, trailing down his frame until your eyes caught on something in his lower half— his long slender fingers gripping tightly onto his erect cock. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his voice sharp with panic as he scrambled to pull his pants up, hastily stuffing himself back into his waistband. His movements were frantic, his face flushed a deep crimson. “I-I thought you were at the ballet school!”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat rising so quickly you felt your face must be as red as his. “I-I was,” you stammered, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you tried to steady your voice. “But… Hana’s tutu got dirty, and I… I came back to grab another one…”

The porn video continued playing in the background, the sounds of the ridiculously wet blowjob making the awkwardness even more unbearable.

Mr. Jeong, finally snapping out of his daze, spun back to his computer and fumbled to exit the site, the click of the mouse unnervingly loud in the heavy silence. He turned back to you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came. His expression was a mixture of shame and desperation, his face still a deep shade of red.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice breathless and shaky as you struggled to compose yourself. The urge to flee was overwhelming. “I-I should get back to Hana. So sorry again!”

Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and hurried out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.

—

You had worried earlier about how you’d make it through the day, feeling so drained and sluggish, but the shock from what happened had jolted you awake like a surge of electricity. Now, a different concern gnawed at you—whether you’d be able to sleep at all tonight. Embarrassment burned through you, and you were sure poor Mr. Jeong wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth after that moment.

Yet, despite yourself, your mind kept racing, replaying the image of his cock. It was so big. It was prettier than the pornstar’s you watch every night. It looked so firm in his hands, the tip flushed pink just like his cheeks. You wondered how it would feel between your legs. Would you even be able to take it? You had dildos in the past, but nothing more than the size of your palm.

“Cash or card?” Hana chirped, her cheerful voice snapping you out of the inappropriate thoughts swirling in your head about her dad.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking down at her as she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. The living room was a mess, scattered with the colorful pieces of her cashier playset. She pointed at the small plastic credit card in your hand, her expression expectant.

“Oh, uh… I guess card?” you replied, handing it over. You watched as she swiped it through the toy terminal, her little hand expertly mimicking the action.

“Boo beep!” she said with a grin, the sound effects spot-on, before handing you back the card along with a tiny plastic milk carton. “Here you go!”

You couldn’t help but smile, her playful innocence pulling you further from your earlier embarrassment. “Thanks, Hana. Can I have a bag, please?”

“That’s fifty cents extra.” 

“Little haggler, aren’t you?” You teased. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, pulling Hana’s attention away from the transaction. “Daddy!” she exclaimed joyfully, rushing toward Mr. Jeong and wrapping her tiny arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Hey, peanut,” he greeted with a warm smile, scooping her up and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Daddy, I did a pirouette today at practice! Wanna see?”

As Hana spun around, tripping over her own feet a couple of times, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag. You kept your eyes down, moving toward the door with a quiet sigh of relief. For once, you were thankful it wasn’t payday; no need to linger any longer, no forced small talk with Mr. Jeong. He seemed just as relieved as he tried his best to avoid you altogether. 

“See you next week, kiddo,” you said, ruffling Hana’s soft hair before heading for the door.

“Wait, Daddy! Can Y/N come to my birthday party tomorrow?”

Mr. Jeong’s smile faltered, replaced by an uncomfortable glance in your direction. “Oh, um, well… why don’t you ask her, sweetie?” he said, quickly deflecting the question back to you.

Hana ran up to you, pressing her small body into your legs and looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “Y/N, can you please please please come to my birthday party? There’s gonna be ice cream cake!”

The urge to say no was strong. You could sense Mr. Jeong’s discomfort, and honestly, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend away from him. But her hopeful gaze, the way her lips stuck out in a small, almost irresistible pout… it was too much to deny.

“Oh, well… I think I have to go somewhere this weekend and…” you started, but then her lower lip began to tremble, and you hated seeing her upset.

You let out a soft sigh, the words slipping out despite yourself. “I, uh, I guess I can come for a little bit.”

“Yay!” Hana cheered, her excitement spilling over as she jumped up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You exchanged a quiet good night with Mr. Jeong, the awkwardness lingering between you both, before disappearing into the warm summer night. The air was heavy as you made your way to your car, but your mind was racing.

As you sat behind the wheel, you cursed yourself under your breath. You should’ve held your ground, should’ve said no when you had the chance. But now… now you are going to a party with Mr. Jeong. How were you supposed to handle that? How were you supposed to navigate a whole afternoon, trapped in the same space with him, when the last thing you wanted was to face him after walking in on him jerking off earlier?

You huffed as you put your keys in the ignition. This was going to be a long weekend. 

—

The next day came quickly, too quickly, and you dreaded the whole affair as you pulled up on the driveway. You showed up about thirty minutes later than the time on the invitation, hoping to blend into the chaos without much fanfare. Sure enough, no one seemed to notice.

The house was buzzing with activity. Little kids, probably Hana’s classmates and friends from ballet, darted around like wild animals, screaming and leaving a trail of toys and crumbs in their wake. You weaved through the commotion, making your way to the table piled high with brightly wrapped presents.

You set down your gift; a doll set Hana had been dreaming about for weeks. Suddenly, you felt a small squeeze at your leg. Looking down, you saw Hana beaming up at you, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug.

“You came!” she squealed, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course I did. Happy birthday!” you said, smiling as you ruffled her hair.

“Come meet my friends!” she insisted, grabbing your hand before you could protest.

Hana dragged you into the backyard, where her friends were splashing in the pool, their parents sitting nearby and watching them like hawks. Hana proudly introduced you to two of her closest friends—“important friends,” as she whispered with a serious nod that made you chuckle.

As you chatted with Hana’s friends, you felt a familiar pull in the corner of your eye. Mr. Jeong stood near the grill, just within your peripheral vision. The moment you glanced in his direction, your heart gave a sharp tug. He was watching you.

Your breath caught, but just before you could process it, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the childlike conversation in front of you. As you nodded along, a thought crept in—was he still looking at you? The possibility made your skin prickle, a slow heat creeping up your neck, your pulse growing erratic. You fought the urge to glance his way again, but curiosity got the better of you. You glanced up again, a quick and casual move, but this time, he wasn’t looking anymore. He had already turned his attention to another parent, nodding along to whatever they were saying, sipping on his ice cold beer. Still, your skin tingled, like his gaze hadn’t fully left you.

The mix of the screaming children, the sun beating down on you, and the overwhelming energy of the party soon had you retreating. With a quick excuse, you headed for the shaded table, grabbing a Coca-Cola and savoring the brief moment of quiet.

You chugged the fizzy drink, the burn in your throat oddly satisfying as it momentarily cooled you off. As you set the half-empty can down, your ears caught snippets of a hushed conversation from the table next to you. Two women, likely mothers of Hana’s friends, were whispering, and one word made you tune in: Yunho.

“His wife passed away a few years ago, back when Hana was just learning to walk. Poor guy, raising her all on his own.”

“God, but he’s so cute, though,” the other one said, not bothering to lower her voice.

“I know, right? If I didn’t have Leo, I’d totally take him out for a spin.” They dissolved into giggles, clearly enjoying their little moment until their eyes flicked toward you.

You froze, caught mid-sip from your drink. The sudden attention made your cheeks warm as they realized you’d overheard them. One of the women quickly cleared her throat, trying to cover the awkwardness.

“So, which one’s yours?” she asked, her tone friendly, though her shoulders were tense—probably hoping you hadn’t heard the part where she casually considered sleeping with Mr. Jeong.

“Oh, none of them,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “I’m Hana’s babysitter.”

You took another sip of your soda, trying to ignore the way the two women were looking at you. It was obvious they had some kind of assumption about you and Mr. Jeong, and it made your skin prickle with discomfort.

“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Jeong had a babysitter,” the long-haired woman said, glancing at her friend with a knowing look.

You shifted under their stares, suddenly feeling like you were being sized up. They both looked down at your exposed legs, your flowy skirt just barely covering your knees. You knew what they were thinking. Their curiosity wasn’t just innocent small talk. It felt more like they were trying to figure out if you were a threat. A young, single dad and his younger, pretty babysitter? Sounded like an overdone porn plot. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your fingers anxiously slipped against your soda can, sending the cold, fizzy liquid spilling down the front of your shirt.

“Oh, shit—” You gasped, stepping back as the sticky sweetness seeped into the fabric.

The two women let out little gasps, covering their mouths, but neither of them moved to help.

“Ugh,” you muttered, shaking your hands off. “Excuse me.”

Quickly, you turned and made your way inside, walking past clusters of parents and kids until you reached the staircase. Your face was burning with frustration. This whole weekend was just one embarrassment after another. Everything had felt weird since yesterday. Mr. Jeong had been acting strange, you’d been acting strange, and now you had people assuming things about you that weren’t even true.

You climbed the stairs, the noise of the party fading as you finally reached the bathroom. With a sigh, you pushed the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door behind you.

The cold air from the vent hit your damp shirt, making the fabric cling to your skin uncomfortably. Grimacing, you pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the sink. You turned on the faucet, grabbing a towel to try and clean it before the stickiness set in.

As you rubbed at the stain, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed, your hair slightly messy from the heat outside. You looked… flustered. Not just from the soda incident, but from everything. From him. From the way he was staring at you, from the way you’d been thinking about him all day, despite knowing you shouldn’t. It was no surprise that you couldn’t sleep the night before, your hands stuffed inside your panties all night, forcing yourself to cum over and over as you thought about Mr. Jeong pumping his big hard cock after a long day. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of categories he liked. MILF? Hentai? Gangbang? Did he have a favorite pornstar? You desperately wanted to know what he liked, how he liked it, his greatest desires. But what was the use? You were only driving yourself mad with these little fantasies. 

You let out a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink. Get it together.

Before you could pull yourself back to reality, you were startled by a sudden commotion outside of your door. And before you could even react, the door knob turned and the door creaked open.

Your heart jumped into your throat as Mr. Jeong stepped inside, his eyes focused on something behind him, mid-sentence. “I’ll be right there, just gotta take a leak—”

He stopped. Completely frozen.

His eyes landed on your bare skin, the lacy edge of your bra, the way the damp fabric of your shirt sat crumpled in the sink.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then, as if snapping out of it, his eyes shot up to yours, and his face turned to that shade of red you’d seen before. “Shit” He spun around so fast he nearly slammed into the wall, and shut the door in front of him.

Your face burned with mortification. You grabbed your shirt, holding it up against your chest even though it was still wet. “What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, trying to sound indignant, but your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

He ran a hand through his hair, his head still facing the door. “It wasn’t locked! And my friend is outside and—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go.”

Silence lingered between you. You should’ve told him to hurry up and leave. Should’ve thrown something at him, and scolded him for barging in like that.

But you didn’t.

Instead, your pulse pounded in your ears as you watched the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way the muscle in the side of his jaw tensed. He was still standing there, motionless and breathing a little too hard, like he was trying really, really hard to control himself.

“…Are you gonna go?” you asked, your voice softer now.

Mr. Jeong hesitated, his hand lying still on the doorknob. He let out a shaky breath. “My friend is still out in the hall, maybe, I don’t know, I don’t want him to come in after me and see you. I’m just gonna give it another minute, just to be safe.” He whispered. 

The bathroom felt impossibly small like the walls had closed in on you. The silence stretched, almost suffocating, broken only by the soft inhales through his nose and the distant chatter from the party downstairs. The faint drip of the faucet filled the space between you, but neither of you moved, let alone spoke.

It had only been a few seconds—maybe ten, maybe twenty—but it felt like minutes, like an eternity of you two just standing there, backs turned, bodies tense.

You both strained your ears, trying to pick up any signs of his friend lingering outside, but the house was too noisy, too alive with the sound of kids playing and parents chatting. There was no way to tell.

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes lowered down to your body, just for a second, before he snapped his head forward again, almost too quickly, like he’d been caught looking.

His throat bobbed. “I think he might be gone,” he murmured. “I don’t hear anything.”

You nodded behind him, staying in place.

He exhaled deeply, his shoulders finally relaxing. “I’m really sorry,” he said, sounding defeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied, gripping your damp shirt tighter against your chest. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I should’ve locked the door.”

“Right. Um… thanks,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, “I also meant about yesterday. I feel so embarrassed. I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable about working for me. Hana really likes you.”

The mention of yesterday sent a small twist through your stomach. You swallowed. “I’m sorry for that too. I shouldn’t have walked in on you like that.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “I guess we’re both just bad at locking doors. Makes us even.”

A small, nervous laugh slipped out of you, easing some of the tension in the room.

“And you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone does it—it’s normal,” you said, trying to reassure him, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Maybe to ease his discomfort. Maybe to ease your own.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh yeah?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “You jerk off in front of your babysitter too?”

The teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks warm up. But it was the way he turned then, fully facing you, locking his deep brown eyes onto yours, that made the air shift; buzzing with something neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt.

His smirk faded as quickly as it had come as if he suddenly realized how inappropriate his words were. But he didn’t apologize this time. And more importantly—he didn’t leave.

Your stomach twisted into knots again, breath growing heavier, shallower. Fuck. He was so hot. His sharp jawline, so strong and well-defined, tensed ever so slightly. His broad shoulders, so effortlessly commanding, made you feel smaller in the best way. And those eyes—deep, warm brown, always soft when he looked at Hana—weren’t so soft now. They were sharp, locked onto you with an intensity that made your pulse race. Even the faint crinkles near his eyes, the ones that usually appeared when he smiled, seemed more pronounced at this moment, only adding to how devastatingly beautiful he was.

You should have said something. You should have slipped on your cola-stained t-shirt and left the bathroom. But instead, you stood there, heart hammering in your chest, letting the weight of his gaze consume you. You couldn’t leave him. Not yet. 

And then, without a second thought, you let your damp t-shirt slip from your fingers, the fabric pooling at your feet. 

Mr. Jeong's gaze dropped to your cleavage, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His initial serious expression made your heart flutter with uncertainty. Have you crossed a line? But then, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and when his eyes met yours again, they held a spark that made your heart skip a beat. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mixture of sternness and intrigue.

“I just want to help…” you replied softly, stepping closer with careful slowness. Each step brought you nearer until you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with intent and a hint of mischief.

With a soft but bold touch, you reached out to cup his clothed cock, feeling its firmness beneath your palm. You applied a teasing pressure, grinding your hand against him. The sudden contact made him draw in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he absorbed the sensation. “You didn’t get to cum last time, did you?” you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper that broke the tense silence between you.

His eyes opened slowly, a mix of desire and astonishment etched on his features. The initial hesitation seemed to melt away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop a moan from escaping. You could feel him hardening in your hand, his pant seam threatening to burst open. 

As if all his restraint had snapped, he pressed one hand against the back of your head, fingers burrowing into your hair, while the other slid just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. He slammed his lips onto yours, finally giving in to the wild desire that had been simmering between you all day. Your lips moved messily while he grinded himself against your hand.  “Fuck, you’re fucking crazy,” he said breathlessly into your lips, “And no, I didn’t, but I did think about creaming on your face before bed last night.”  

You could already feel a wetness pooling between your legs, his words being the boost you so desperately needed to move forward. You kept kissing him hungrily while undoing his fly, his half-hard cock springing out in anticipation. You took him into your hand, your fingers barely meeting as you gripped around him, stroking him gently while he cursed into your mouth. 

Mr. Jeong pulled away and spun you around in one swift move, pressing your body against his chest and trapping you in his embrace. Your hand remained obedient and eager, pumping his cock as his big hands roamed your body. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slipped underneath your skirt. “Wore this skimpy little thing on purpose, didn’t you?” His words cascaded down your neck, “Little slut.” 

You moaned softly as his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit, your sticky wet juices leaking through the fabric. Mr. Jeong gathered the front of your panties together and pulled with a force that made you gasp. The fabric wedged against your throbbing pussy, leaving you whimpering as you bucked your hips against the friction. 

“Your so fucking wet, Y/N…” He teased, his lips pressed against your ears, sending a rush of butterflies in your stomach. “You liked what you saw yesterday, didn’t you? Couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you? Bet you came in on purpose, hmm? Heard what I was doing and wanted to help me cum?” 

A deep, throaty moan escaped your lips. You loved the way he was talking to you, the way he reduced you to a horndog little pervert, and deep down, you knew it was true. You were addicted to the thrill of it all. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I wanna be your good girl, your slut. Wanna help you cum sir, please. Want your hot load on me. Please, sir, I need it.” Your words were an invitation, a desperate plea for the intense pleasure you’ve craved for so long, and you knew he couldn't resist.

Mr. Jeong shifted from behind you and you felt the warmth of his cock, a tantalizing tap against your cunt, which forced an excited yelp from your lips. His hand covered your mouth, a gentle yet firm reminder to keep quiet. “Don’t want anyone hearing us, do we baby?” 

His cock was sandwiched between your sopping-wet folds and the tight fabric of your panties. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but grind your hot, eager pussy over his length. Your back rested against his chest, and you could feel his heart pounding in sync with your racing pulse. The fabric of your panties provided delicious friction, and you moaned softly into his hand, the sound muffled but still carrying the weight of your satisfaction. 

You pressed your thighs together, squeezing his cock as you rode him, the sensation being too much for the both of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” He panted, his head falling forward and burying into your shoulder. 

You grew restless, your grinding becoming faster and wild, the sounds of your quiet and desperate begging like music to his ears. “Please, sir, cum in my panties, I’ll be so good,” You pleaded with tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. The thought of walking around in his cum-soaked panties gave you a thrill. You could feel your clit pulsing as you rutted against his shaft, the sheer bliss of it beyond anything you’d ever experienced. “I’m gonna cum, sir, please…oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

As your orgasm subsided, his cock still pressed against your swollen clit. You felt a numbness, a euphoric high that left you floating, your wetness a warm, inviting contrast to his hot, throbbing length. Shivers ran down your spine, and you felt like you were hovering, your consciousness detached from your body. 

Mr. Jeong lifted you in his strong arms, carrying you like fragile glass. He brought you to the bathroom mirror, and as he held you up, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of his length against your body. It was almost surreal, the difference in scale, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He snaked a hand around your waist, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your wet, glistening cunt to the cool air. You shivered, feeling a rush of vulnerability. He slapped his cock against your wet cunt, grinning, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. 

“What are you doing, sir?” you asked shyly, your voice soft and hesitant. You had never experienced this position before, and the sight of your legs spread wide and your cunt so open and exposed made you nervous. Mr. Jeong's hands grasped under your thighs, supporting your weight, and you could feel his strength and his muscles bulging as he held you up. “I wanna see this little pussy take my big cock,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Wanna watch it stretch and take me deep.” 

You gulped, your heart racing in your chest. You had never taken something this big before, and Mr. Jeong was indeed impressive. The thought of being stretched, of accommodating to his size, both excited and intimidated you. You wanted to tell him about your virginity, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't want to turn him off, and so you remained silent, your mind racing with a mix of emotions.

Noticing your worried glance reflected in the mirror, Mr. Jeong's eyes narrowed, a hint of disappointment creasing his features. “What's wrong, baby? You wanna stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. 

“No,” you said quietly before reaching down to grasp his cock. With a firm grip, you began to work him up and down, the weight of his hard length in your hands making your pussy twitch. You pushed his cock against your entrance, the head pressing against your tight, virgin opening. “Please, sir,” you begged, your voice pathetically dry. “I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you stretching me, filling me up. Wanna be good for you.”

The thought of giving up your virginity to him was both scary and exhilarating. You wanted to be his, to belong to him in the most intimate way possible. You pumped him desperately, your core aching to have him stuffed deep inside you. 

The head of his cock pressed against your tight opening, and you could feel the stretch, the burning sensation of being filled for the very first time. A sob escaped your lips as Mr. Jeong slowly lowered you over his cock, the mirror reflecting it all. You watched in awe as his hot, throbbing rod disappeared inside your body, the sight of it stretching you, filling you, almost too much to bear.

“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted, his eyes wide with a mix of pleasure and awe. The sensation of being filled by his impressive size was intense, and you were intoxicated by a mixture of pain and bliss, the feeling making your mind numb. He was incredibly gentle at first, pushing just the tip of his cock into your walls, treating you with the utmost care. But as tension built within him, his eyes grew darker, a fierce lust taking over. With a sudden, primal urge, he began working you over his cock, pulling you up and down, your tight pussy gripping his length. You felt incredible to him, like a fleshlight come to life, and even he struggled to mask his moans as your body adjusted to his size. 

The pain was fleeting, replaced by a deep, satisfying pleasure. “Oh god, sir” you whispered, your voice strained. “It feels so good. So full... Please, don't stop.” Your sweet pleas made his ears buzz, his stomach fluttering from just how sweetly you begged for more of him. 

“God, you’re doing so good for me,” He praised, almost giddy with how effortlessly you fit him. His eyes never left the mirror, his thick bulge disappearing into your tight, wet pussy, a sight too mesmerizing to look away from.  “Such a good girl…look so pretty on my cock” He huffed, “My little cumslut.” 

His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you felt your pussy clench around him in response. You wanted him to keep talking dirty to you, to fill your ears with every filthy word and fantasy he had while pounding into you. 

Mr. Jeong grew tired, and he placed you back on the ground, pushing your body down against the sink, the cold marble against your bare stomach sending a chill down your spine. He lifted your skirt, rubbing himself against your puffy pussy lips, the overstimulation driving you wild. You felt his cock, thick and hard, lining up with your hole, and you knew what was coming. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he pushed into you in one swift, powerful motion, filling you up completely. He stilled his hips, giving your pussy a chance to adjust to his size, to wrap itself around him, to pulsate and invite him deeper. You were stuffed, every inch of your pussy filled with his cock, his balls swinging and slapping against your raw skin with each thrust.

With each snap of his hips, you cursed under your breath, your fingers gripping tightly to the sink as if it were your only anchor in this storm. "S-so big!" you yelped, your voice filled with a mix of awe and fear. Your body was now completely at the mercy of Mr. Jeong, his powerful strokes sending waves of pleasure and pain through your sensitive pussy.

As he continued to thrust into you, he brought one hand up, pressing his fingers against your mouth, effectively silencing your moans. "Gotta do something about that mouth, baby," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers, still wet with your juices from before, found their way into your mouth, and you gladly accepted them, your lips closing around his digits. You moaned deeply, your tongue wrapping around his fingers, tasting yourself on them. You lost yourself in his touch, his hard cock massaging your gummy walls, his fingers probing and exploring your warm mouth, his lips licking and sucking your ear lobe as he whispered filth to you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.

As your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, you were struck by a sense of unfamiliarity. Your makeup was smudged and running, the black mascara staining your tears and streaking down your cheeks. Your hair was frizzy and chaotic, some sweat-drenched strands framing your face and sticking to your warm cheeks. Your lips looked wet and swollen as you gagged around Mr. Jeong’s long fingers, the saliva dripping down your chin. You loved it. You looked like a woman who had been pleasured beyond measure. There was an intoxicating power in seeing yourself like this, a power that made you feel alive and desirable. It reminded you of the pornstar Mr. Jeong was watching yesterday, her fucked-out expression now mirroring your own. 

"Oh god, sir, it's too much!" you moaned, pulling his fingers out from your mouth. "I can't take it! I'm gonna cum again!"

“Fuck, me too,” He grunted as he pulled out of you, feeling the inevitable approach of his own release. Relief washed over you, your body weakening, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing. Mr. Jeong spun you around, placing a hand on the top of your head, pushing you to your knees just as your body swayed with the first waves of your climax. 

As Mr. Jeong jerked himself off with his hand, his eyes never left your face, now a beautiful canvas covered in the ropes of his hot cum. Though still reeling from the intense orgasm he had just given you, you opened your mouth wide, obediently accepting his thick, white cum as it splashed over your tongue. The taste was both bitter and sour, but you loved it, a unique flavor that was all his.

You licked your lips, moaning softly as you savored his taste. You kissed his tender tip, running your tongue over his slit, relishing the feeling of his cum leaking out, warm and sticky.

With a playful smile, Mr. Jeong rubbed his tip against your lips, leaving a trail of cum as he did so. "Shit, baby, you look so pretty with my cum on your face," he said, his voice shaky with post-orgasmic delight. "My sweet little cumslut."

Taking him into your mouth once more, you swirled your tongue around his sensitive head, moaning from the taste and texture of his cum. You pulled off with a plopping sound, a satisfied smile on your face. "Taste so good, sir," you whispered, your voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "Thank you for letting me taste your cum.”

Mr. Jeong, clearly pleased with your gratitude, ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, there was a hard knock on the door, snapping you both out of your little daze. 

“Yo, Yunho,” a voice called from the door. “Are you taking a shit? How much longer are you gonna be? Hana’s ready to cut the cake.”

Mr. Jeong flinched, his hands moving fast as he pulled his bottoms up, stuffing himself back inside like a guilty teenager caught red-handed. “Uh, just a minute! I’ll be right out!” he called back, voice strained.

The man sighed. “Alright, well, hurry up. The cake’s melting out here.”

You both snapped into action, scrambling to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. The rush of reality crashing back down made your heart pound even harder than before. Just as you were ready to bolt, Yunho suddenly froze, his expression shifting once he realized the mess he left on your face was still dripping down your cheeks. 

Then, without a word, he grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped the sticky white jelly from your flushed face. “Sorry,” he murmured, his fingers barely grazing your skin, his eyes burning with the same embarrassed, heated look from before.

Once you were clean, he lingered for a second too long, standing so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He parted his mouth as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Instead, his fingers anxiously tapped against his thigh, a nervous habit you had never noticed before.

“You should go first,” you said quickly, sensing the weight of the moment. “I’ll come down after.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered, stuffing his shirt back into his waistband before slipping out the door with hurried, uneven steps.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sank onto the toilet seat. The room still smelled faintly of him, and it felt unreal how fast the energy had shifted. Had he just been hit with regret? Was he now scrambling to shove this whole thing into a locked box in his mind? Now no longer in the heat of the moment, did he think what you two did was wrong? Were you going to get fired? 

For the rest of the party, Mr. Jeong successfully avoided you. He busied himself slicing tiny squares of cake for the kids, nodding along to endless small talk with the other parents as if nothing had happened.

You took the hint, feeling a slight shame in your chest.

Slipping out early, you gave Hana a tight hug before heading back to your car. The second you settled into your seat, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a sigh, you pulled it out, expecting something mundane.

But when you read the message, you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

Jeong Yunho: See you Monday ;)

—

Your sleep schedule had indeed improved, and you found yourself no longer relying on toys to satisfy your desires. The structure and routine of your new life, with Hana and Mr. Jeong, had brought a sense of balance and fulfillment. You enjoyed the daily interactions with Hana, whether it was playing frisbee in the backyard or teaching her simple math in her room. Your bond with her grew stronger each day, and you found great joy in being a positive influence in her life.

However, it was the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays that held a special place in your heart. These were the days when you dropped Hana off at her ballet recitals, and while she was practicing her pliés and pirouettes, you would return to their home to tend to your other job.

Your knees were growing sore from scraping against the carpet under Yunho’s desktop table. Sounds of girls moaning emanated from his monitor. Though you were curious about what he was watching, you knew it was none of your business. Instead, you focused on the task at hand and wrapped your warm mouth over his throbbing cock, nestling yourself between his legs from under his desk. The width of his bulge filled your throat, and you gagged lightly, a sign of your complete submission to him.

Yunho, lost in the porno he was watching, seemed momentarily unaware of your presence. He was engrossed in the images on his screen, his eyes droopy and his breathing heavy. Your mouth bobbed up and down, your lips wrapping tightly around his shaft, and you could feel his excitement building. The sound of his moans mixed with the pornographic sounds on his computer made you clench around nothing, forcing you to slip your hand past your waistband. 

As you continued to suck him, you could feel his hands running through your hair, gently guiding your movements. You massaged his warm balls with your free hand, feeling his cum bubbling up in his sack, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he released his load into your waiting mouth.

"That's it, baby," Yunho whispered, his voice soft yet dominant. “Keep that pretty mouth on me. So good…so, so good for me.”

I would greatly appreciate reblogs with comments and replies. please consider leaving feedback if you enjoyed this x.

[whokilledsamara]

mr scarlet and crawling menstruation hc? Thank you for the food so far

MENSTRUATION

a Mr. Scarletella & Mr. Crawling x afab!reader period hcs.

warnings || period play, smut, afab reader, blood kink, monsterfucking

{an: AHHH YESSS i was hoping someone would request this!!! since nsfw wasn't specified, i did both sfw AND nsfw hcs!! :D}

MR. SCARLETELLA {SFW}

his initial reaction would be confusion, simply due to the fact that he has no idea what a period even is- but none the less he is worried.

anything you ask of him, he will do without a question. while yes, he does this even without your period being an issue- it just becomes x10 more often.

he takes your pain to his advantage. he finds pleasure in you needing him- whether that be just for comfort or not. he wants to feel needed by you.

cuddles are almost non-stop! wants to be as close to you as possible.

doesn't quite understand what cramps are, but hates seeing you in pain, so will retrieve pain killers from Mr. Silvair.

unfortunately, he is naturally cold. a heating pad is 100% necessary since he cannot provide the warmth needed. {much to his dismay}

he goes out of his way to find things to comfort you, such as teleporting to the human realm to retrieve necessary supplies. wants to see his beloved happy ;)

even if you don't need it, or even deny it, he will carry you to any destination you attempt to reach. though to your demands, he wont teleport. it makes you motion sick.

he refuses to let you out of his sight, so good luck talking with the other residents !!

MR. CRAWLING {SFW}

the man has a wonderful sense of smell. immediately once you start bleeding, he can tell. he will frantically search you, confused when he finds no bodily damage. almost like a dog, he will stuff his face in between your legs- not in a perverted manner of course, but to find the source of your bleeding.

it definitely takes a while to explain that its natural, let alone a monthly occurrence. eventually though, he will understand enough of the situation to leave it alone.

he makes it a personal mission to stay by your side, somewhat like your personal body guard. he is definitely more protective over you when you are menstruating.

will beg to look down there, just because he is "curious" ..

he has absolutely no idea what to do, but he will try his best! he might have to ask Mr. Silvair to help him with the situation.

will also find painkillers from Mr. Silvair.

if you mention that you want chocolate or candy or something, he will attempt to trade with Mr. Gap. try to ignore the fact that he comes back to you missing a few fingers though... they will grow back!

he doesn't want you to move around a lot. he is definitely the type to do anything to keep you cuddling with him.

MR. SCARLETELLA {NSFW}

as soon as the question leaves your lips, he is on top of you.

whether you want him to finger you, eat you out, or actually penetrate you- he will without question. he will stop at nothing to please you.

the sight of your blood really does something for him. he definitely will tell you too.

he finds the taste delicious, and as he tells you- it is sweeter than regular blood.

could be in between your legs for hours, draining you pretty much.

he has long, slender fingers- using your blood as lube. will absolutely have a very prominent boner after he touches you.

is definitely a soft dom during that time of the month, allowing you to tell him what you want and go slowly with it. he wants your pleasure to override your pain more than anything.

its almost impossible to pull him away from you though- the sight of your blood coating his length turns him into a frenzy.

he will beg you to sit on his face during your period. though you find it weird, he wants to taste your juices.

his favorite position during your cycle is missionary. its a treat in itself to look down and find your blood coating him, along with the view of you in general.

MR. CRAWLING {NSFW}

he is definitely hesitant at first. his biggest fear is hurting you- or loosing control of himself.

you would have to reassure him multiple times that its okay, but eventually he will.

facing the obvious, he has a blood kink. he eats human flesh to survive, so of course a thirst for blood comes with it. you being his lover is what gets him going.

definitely prefers eating you out. it gets both of you off- plus he gets to please you all in one.

his favorite position is you on top, with him holding your hips and thrusting into you. as your blood coats his lower abdomen, it really gets him closer to that edge.

his protective instincts kick in more than ever when you are on your period. often resorting to hiding you away from everyone else.

he wants to make your pain go away, and the moment he figures out that sex can help, not one thing can pull him off of you. will go for hours to ensure you aren't hurting.

if he could go into heat, he definitely would. something about the scent and taste of your blood drives him absolutely insane.

cuddles afterwards are a definite. but thats usual with him- he has always been a tentative lover.

i hope you enjoyed!!! sorry updates have been excruciatingly slow,,, life is always hectic around christmas time lol <3

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[mywritersmind]

TROUBLE - LN4 part one

next part

summary : Trouble comes in many forms, for Lando Norris, it comes in the shape of his teammates sister. A week at Oscars brings more temptation and impulse than any other start to a season.

listen up : lando x piastri!reader. hii i’m back with a series!! im so excited for this one it’s gonna be perfect. comment to be on taglist!

words : 1890

⋆｡‧˚⋆

lando

I’ve met Oscar’s Mum before, but she seems even more like a goddess in her own home. She kisses both my cheeks when I walk in, going off about how excited she is that her ‘papaya boys’ are both home for the week.

I feel at home immediately.

Even though I haven’t moved from the entryway, I can see that Oscar’s house is insane. It’s incredibly open with an immediate view of their whole backyard because of how many windows are in this place.

Nicole hugs Oscar from the side, my teammate seemingly unphased until a small smile breaks onto his face. “I’m so happy you’re here! Do either of you want a drink? I’ve made-”

“Mum where’s the-” A very loud and very sweet voice cuts Nicole off, followed by a brown haired girl sliding around the corner in just socks and an oversized t-shirt. She stops talking when she notices us.

Nicole blinks, “Love. Lando’s just gotten here.”

The girl, Y/n, looks at me… then back to her mother, “Oh that’s today?” It’s then when I realize she’s eating candy because she pops the lolli back into her mouth as she smiles and walks closer to me.

I’ve never met this specific Piastri sister, but I know her instantly before anyone says her name. She’s easily the most stunning sibling (sorry to my teammate) and clearly the most trouble. Oscar has told me many stories of his childhood, all in which include his spunky little sister wanting to be involved.

“Hi to you too.” Oscar rolls his eyes as his sister gives him a look, waving her fingers casually then turning to me. Shit. She really is stunning.

“I’m Y/n.” She puts out her hand, using the other one to grab onto the lolli stick and pull the sweet out of her mouth. She holds eye contact like every journalist ever, her eyes a piercing blue that match her nail polish.

I clear my throat and smile, “Lando. Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand, her grip is firm but fleeting, her arm around brother in seconds.

“Hi Oscy.” She says, squeezing him tight as he acts annoyed. “Sorry for interrupting… I’m looking for my bikini.”

Nicole just shakes her head, smiling at her children lovingly, “The white one? You left it in my room.”

“Ah, thank you!” She stands up straighter and kisses her mom on the cheek, practically skipping down the hall, “Anyone wanna join me for a swim?”

“Sure.” I say it so easily that Oscar looks appalled.

“No.” He says, about to continue but is cut off by Y/n who’s walking down the hallway backwards.

“Lily will be here soon Oscar! You are swimming!” And with that, she’s gone and Oscar is sighing, dragging his bag down the hallway and looking back at me.

“C’mon then. I’ll show you your room.”

⋆༺

you

The white bikini in question is my favorite item of clothing I own. If you can even call it that. It’s tiny but mighty, making me honestly look the tannest I've ever been.

I sit up in my chair, the sun hot and contrasting the cold drink in my hand. Oscar’s across the pool, all smiley now that his girlfriend is in his arms. His other lover (or teammate I guess you could call him) is definitely asleep on one of the lounge chairs.

I eye his body shamelessly. His arm is over his eyes, his tanned and very fit body looking great in the sunshine.

I always wondered about Lando Norris. About his reputation… about his curl routine. But up until today, I've never met the man. He’s nice, polite, and definitely loves my mom.

There’s just something about the way he looks at me… like he’s curious or something.

That’s dangerous for me. Because if he looks like that when he’s just intrigued, I wonder what he’ll look like when that curiosity is fed.

Lando wakes up at Oscar jumping into the pool, the brit sitting up quickly, clearly disoriented. And then he looks at me.

Well, more like he catches me staring. I just smile, his eyes confused and his mouth slightly parted. I bite my lip, holding back a laugh. And then, I stand up, and dive into the pool.

⋆༺

lando

“So!” Nicole says, spinning around in the kitchen as she plates chips and guacamole, “Are you boys ready?”

Oscar glances at me, “For…?”

“The season, idiot.” Y/n hits the back of Oscars head, “What else?” She walks into the kitchen, still in that little bikini that made me blush when I first saw it.

Oscar flips her off, Y/n sticking out her tongue right back before biting into an apple. “I’d say so.” Oscar shrugs, looking at me for an answer.

“We definitely are.” I agree.

“What about your team?” Y/n chews, smirking as if she knows it’s problematic.

“Can you not stir shit up for two hours?” Oscar shakes his head as Lily walks in, smiling per usual. Y/n grins and walks out, her hand lingering on the countertop.

“Oh leave your sister alone.” Nicole shakes her head, handing the bowl to Lily, “She’s happy you’re back.”

“Right she seems it.”

“She is!” Lily nudges his arm, “You know, she just graduated uni and does want to see her brother for more than a couple hours every two months.”

Oscar says nothing, just nodding along with his girlfriend who is definitely in the right.

“I’m glad you two are here when no one else is!” Nicole sighs, “I love your sisters but sometimes I wonder if they know you’re actually an athlete.”

Oscar smiles at this, “I think it’s better if it’s just us.”

“Plus, now we can show Lando around!” Lily smiles, “Y/n is a great tour guide.”

⋆༺

you

Night comes as fast as ever, our dinner is finished quickly and Oscar is dead asleep on the couch soon after. Lily shakes him awake softly, telling him it’s time for bed.

“Night Lil.” I say, walking down the hall with a bowl of ice cream in hand and past my moms shut door. Hosting always tires her out.

I’m about to walk in my room, an old episode of Love Island waiting for me, but then I hear a loud bang in the room next to mine.

Considering it’s just a guest room, it surprises me. And then I realize that my lovely family put Lando in it. I can’t help myself, knocking on the door even though my common sense is screaming at me to run.

It swings open a second later, a messy haired Lando Norris standing very close in the doorway. “Hi!” He pulls his hand out of his curls.

He’s wearing a baggy shirt, some new quadrant creation I assume, and gray sweats. “You alright? I heard something.” I try to peek around his head but his face is in front of mine in an instant.

He looks a bit panicked, “Yeah! Yes! Of course.” He’s completely lying. I push past him and into the room that’s already a mess from his unpacking.

And then I laugh, “I didn’t mean to!” He defends himself instantly, “Really! I swear it broke so easily-”

He kneels next to the dresser drawer and frowns, a pair of shorts is the only thing occupying the space. “Don’t worry.” I bring my ice cream spoon to my mouth, “It was already broken. Just… don’t tell my mom.”

He looks even worse at my words, “Why…?”

“I’m the one who broke it.” I lean against the doorframe, “Long story, involves a guy.” I shake my head at the memory, “It just needs a good-” it’s like he reads my mind, shoving the drawer back into place as I smile, “Shove.”

He sits back on the end of the bed, shaking his head, “You break a lot of stuff secretly?”

“Apparently only my grandmother's items. Ran into her vase once… did not go over well with my mother.” He smiles at this, leaning back on his hands. “Well, if you need anything else unbroken, just ask.”

I pull the spoon out of my mouth, about to turn and leave before he stops me, “Hey- I could use some of that.” He points at my bowl, “Unless you want to get to sleep.”

I shake my head, “I’m never too tired for more ice cream.” He stands and follows me back into the kitchen. “You’ve got options.” I pull out a lemon sorbet, plain chocolate gelato, and a peanut butter crunch.

He snatches the gelato as I take a seat in one of the bar chairs, crossing my legs and watching him muscle out the ice cream. “Christ-” he scrunches up his nose while shoving the spoon into the top, “Isn’t gelato supposed to be soft?”

I just eye him, still struggling and making his arms look absolutely magnificent. I go through everything I know about him… He’s hot, 25, party boy, insane racer, mental health advocate, my brother's teammate, and someone who makes everything (even bright orange) attractive.

He catches me staring again, the corner of his lips quirking upward, “What?”

“Nothing.” I say simply, “Maybe let it thaw a bit.”

He drops his spoon, clearly frustrated. “Good idea.” He leans back against the counter, facing me and crossing his arms, “So. I heard you just graduated from uni.”

I almost laugh at his sentence starter, “Yeah. I heard you just extended your contract.” He laughs to himself, tilting his head down. “I hate small talk. What has Oscar said about me?”

“Right to it then…” He mumbles, “He said you’re his favorite sister.”

“Well of course I am. I’m the only one who didn’t taddle when he would sneak Lily into his room.” Lando laughs at this, “I may have bribed him after but…” I trail off, watching his eyes which remind me of the greenish blue shore, study me.

His posture is a bit slumped, he looks different from all the posters and media, much more chill. “I heard you were a bit of a trouble maker.”

“Were?” I scrunch my nose a bit.

“Maybe still are.” He shrugs, “Don’t know you well enough yet. Although from what i’ve gathered… what i’ve heard is true.”

“Can’t handle a little trouble, Norris?”

“No…” He looks down, a rogue curl falling onto his forehead as he sighs, “I can.”

I swirl my spoon around my bowl, my ice cream abandoned in a pool of melted chocolate, “Just not in the form of your teammate's sister?”

He doesn’t say anything, just scratches the back of his neck and brings his eyes upward, his head still tilted down. Then, he pushes off the counter and in one step, he’s back at the gelato, now melted enough for Lando to scoop.

He doesn’t answer my question, yet I know what he’s thinking. I slide off the stool and drop my plate into the sink, letting him off just this once. “Sweet dreams, neighbor.”

I walk past him, his mouth holding his spoon in his mouth and his eyes tracking me. “Neighbor?”

“My room is next to yours.” I glance back at him, taking a mental photo of his state, “Hope you don’t snore, the walls are thin.”

[bunni-v1]

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

[sirxlla]

Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄

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

Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.

"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.

"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.

"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.

Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.

Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.

Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.

"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.

"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.

"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.

"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.

Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.

"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.

"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.

"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.

"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.

Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.

"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.

"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.

"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.

Masterlist

[teddybeartoji]

zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.

right?

the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.

the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.

and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.

but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.

satoru finds you utterly intriguing.

people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.

maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.

you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.

but there's no obvious malice.

it's interesting.

satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.

you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.

which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.

or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.

blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.

desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.

satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.

he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.

but you're keen, too.

you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.

but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.

there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.

a survivor always recognizes a survivor.

[blood-smiles]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄 —-— ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍫 ⋅ ˚✮

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 - !! 18+ MDNI !! yandere . yandere gets down and dirty with darling . Chocolate aphrodisiacs . handjob . probably more . DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT..

The air was warm and the rich people laughing around you with their fancy champagne wasn’t making it any better.

You could just feel the luxury cars, expensive watches and decades of inherited fortune in their cackles.

You walked around like a lost duckling without its mother, you indulged in the chocolate fountains, the mysterious fancy meat and the delicious wine that somehow tasted like the tears of the poor.

You sipped your wine as you stared at a very particular sculpture decorated in jewels and silks, your commoner eyes never quite adapted to the strange and fantastical world of the wealthy.

You tilted your head at the abstract art, what shape did it have? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was this the so called modern art? 

At least it’s a step up from taping a banana to a wall, you thought.

What kind of shape was this? A bottle? A banana? A cat? A curvy rock?

God. This was stressing you out, you were probably putting too much thought into thi—

“I see you are looking at my newest creation. This is my personal interpretation of.. the essence of.. A woman.” The voice of a man drawled in your ear, wow, a woman? You could have never guessed.

the rancid smell of the cottage cheese in his breath fanning right into your nose.

You suppressed the urge to gag and potentially throw up your fancy meat and chocolate coated strawberries on the ugly sculpture.

Instead you covered the disgust you were about to show with a tight smile.

“The curves of her body.. The jewels hanging over her childbearing hips just.. Speak to me.” The man spoke, facing away from you as he shallowly expressed his thoughts, his hands flailing around in the air as if he was the next man to change art.

To you it just seemed like a weirdly shaped rock that had been drowned in very expensive precious stones and jewelry.

But for the sake of his delusions you simply nodded along with his words, trying to distract yourself from his rotten breath.

“You are quite the beauty.. Say, would you like to try these special edition chocolates I have been working on?..” The balding male offered, passing you a single chocolate in his hand.

Well, that was awfully stingy wasn’t it? This man must be swimming in pools of money and riches, surely he can spare more than a measly square of chocolate.

Whatever, hopefully that chocolate will neutralize his disgusting pants.

Your hand reached out, eager to try the grandeur chocolate, only for a larger and slimmer hand to snatch the piece of heaven from the man’s hand.

You gasped, looking up at the aggravator, Alejandro.

The beautiful man shoved the candy in his mouth before you could even open your mouth to whine.

You turned your gaze to the artist, only to see that there was a fat glob of sweat trickling down his face. He had the most ‘oh shit. I fucked up’ look you had ever seen.

“Alejandro! Why would you do that?!” You huffed, pulling at his sleeve impatiently.

“(Y/N). Why are you taking things from strangers. Did we not go over this at home? Do I need to remind you?” Your partner scolded you, tilting his head down at you.

his hair had been styled differently for the event, his hair gathered loosely over his shoulders, flowing down his back in a straight fashion.

“And you.” He glared, his eyes narrowing into a disgusted expression. “Who the hell do you think you are to be offering your repulsive treats to my lover?” 

His garnet eyes almost glowed in anger, a small vein appearing across his jaw. His hands were balled in fists, knuckles straining his skin, veins about to pop.

Holy shit, if you were in the other guys’ shoes you would have wet your pants— Scratch that, your bladder would have unattached from your body and dropped on the ground with a loud splat.

Pretty people really are scary when mad. You furrowed your brows in a grimace, sipping your tasty wine quietly.

The artist fled in a time record, you swear you blinked and only an outline shape of him remained in his place.

You looked at Alejandro, who was staring down at you intensely. His hands shakily landed on your shoulders.

His forehead pressed against your right shoulder. Now what was wrong with him? These little mood swings he has been having lately are proving to be quite irritating.

“..That chocolate.. Was laced..” He mumbled, taking deep shaky breaths. You turned around, eyebrows high in surprise.

“W—Whu..? How do you know?” He simply raised his head, his cheeks glowing with red, eyes half lidded and desperate.

..What the helly.

“Alejandro? Are you okay? Did it have poison?!” You began panicking, grabbing him by his arms. He flinched as if your touch had just burnt him, his posture growing stiff.

He looked down, thighs rubbing together. Heat began pooling in the bottom of his stomach, the tent in his pants beginning to create a wet patch.

“..Aphrodisiac.” He simply said, air coming out in little gasps. Was the drug that strong? It had barely been five minutes since he ate it— How did it work so quick?

He let out a soft sound, leaning closer into your body warmth “..(Y/N), please h-help me..” he begged, long lashes wet with little tears.

“What? Here? Now?” You looked around, maybe this not humble abode had an unoccupied room? You knew you couldn’t leave him in this state.

Not when he was begging so nicely.

You sighed, his fingers interlocked with yours now, gently pulling him along. Your mission was to get him to a room to relieve him with hopefully no casualties.

Someone stopped the both of you, a beautiful woman in a silky red dress with a sensual slit.

“Alejandro! There you are! I have been looking for you for so long!” She giggled, getting on her the tips of her feet to peck his cheek in a greeting.

Ah, you knew her. She was one of the candidates that his parents had groomed for him.

She wasn’t all that interested in him, more like in his fortune.

Alejandro growled under his breath, pushing her away rudely. His mind was fogged with lust but even so he was physically unable to interact with someone that wasn’t you.

“Leave me be.” He cut her off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him, leaving the pretty woman in the dust.

You ascended up the beautiful staircase of the mansion, running into one of the many empty rooms.

Alejandro didn’t wait a moment more to strip, his hands working in his tailored coat, then came off his black button up along with his pants and undergarments.

His skin gleamed under the warm lighting, sweat enhancing his already breathtaking figure.

“..Please..” He begged, his violet hair sticking a little to his face, his glasses foggy and stained with tears.

“..aah~..” he shivered, hand coming down to stroke himself, the motion making wet squelching sounds.

He sat on the bed on all fours, putting himself on display, writhing on top of the sheets in discomfort. Even in such a ruined state he somehow still managed to look like model. God really does have favorites.

You didn’t hesitate to sit between his thighs, nails gently teasing the soft plush skin of his inner thigh.

He gasped a little, throbbing under your touch. You traced the beauty marks blessing his porcelain skin.

He was so impatient. He was about to grab your hand and just tell you to touch him. But he knew better, he was to be patient, he knew that you would probably punish him and leave him in this sorry state.

Your hand finally wrapped around his pretty shaft, veins pulsating in need. Pre-cum bubbled from his slit, your thumb cruelly rubbing over his sensitive pink tip.

He let out a high pitched cry, closing his eyes as to try to hold onto the last of restraint he had. 

“Haaan!..” he whined, eyes rolling back into his head, hands gripping the sheets so tight that the fabric could rip from under his grasp.

You sped up your pace, indulging his needs a little. The slick of his cum made your hand sticky, he smiled at that. This was one of his brandings on you, your hands were claimed by him, by his juices—By his love.

Saliva trickled down his jaw, his tongue lolling out from the sheer pleasure. Your hands wrapped around him felt like a blessing, something sacred only reserved for him.

His hips bucked into your fist with a new sense of purpose, his head felt fuzzy, like it was full with cotton.

He felt himself ascending to cloud nine, about to cum. 

“Agh—Nggg~..” he put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his noises down, hoping that no others had heard him over the loud orchestra downstairs.

Suddenly your fingers intruded inside his ass, curling up inside his hole. He mewled in ecstasy, burrowing himself on your fingers even more.

The tips of your fingers pressed against his velvety walls, his prostrate being poked by your fingers in such a deliciously unfathomable way that he couldn’t help but let himself go.

White semen oozed from his dick, dirtying the expensive sheets in a web of cum. Tears rolled down from his eyes, chest pressed against the soft mattress and plump ass in the air. 

Slick running down his thighs all the way down to his knees. His limp dick twitching after a fulfilling orgasm.

His chest heaved, you could tell he was spent. He turned his gaze to you, opening his arms as if asking you to come lie down next to him on the soft sheets.

You dragged a hand down your face, this man truly is a handful.

The two of you went home not too soon after, but this time making sure not to accept any suspicious chocolate from anyone on the way out.

Your lover pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, silently thanking you for the strange but passionate night the both of you shared.

[bluebellles]

"i'll take a quiet life"

gentle moments of reciprocating their affection

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

cw: varying relationship stages, brief callbacks to child experimentation (canon compliant), zayne’s describes a poor relationship with food, heavy on dragon sylus sorry i wish i could be different, ur down bad and a little embarrassing in Xavier’s but he’s worse, author is still settling into character analysis for these guys so pls forgive any ooc

Your hunting partner excelled in many ways. His skill in the field was both undeniable and terrifying, his ability to fall asleep anywhere concerned you as much as it impressed you, and his calm demeanor even in the face of the most stressful situations set your mind at ease whenever you fought alongside him.

The only area he truly lacked in, in your humble opinion, was in his ability to give a straight answer about anything to do with himself or his personal life.

He was, in many ways, a vault of information for everything from the history of wanderers to arbitrary and niche subjects that a normal person would have had to spend a lifetime studying to be able to reference as easily as him. If you had a question about nearly any subject, your walking encyclopedia of a partner likely had the answer ready to deliver to you accompanied by a yawn and that sleepy blink of his eyes. 

Answers about himself, however, were much harder to come by. He never declined your inquiries outright, but he had a litany of creative and mildly infuriating ways to dodge the question. He was very adept at distracting you, often with food or confusing questions of his own. You once asked him what he did over the weekend and he pulled a bag of your favorite candy out of his pocket to offer to you, waited until you started munching on it happily, and then just said “and what about you?” as if he had already answered your question. You were also highly suspicious about the timing of his naps on the train to get to missions – always falling asleep right after you try making small talk about where he grew up or his family. 

It's not like you didn’t want to respect his boundaries. He was probably just a very private person or a secret criminal and either way it was ultimately none of your business. It’s just that it was a little difficult to jump into battle alongside another person on a daily basis and trust them to have your back when you couldn’t even get him to tell you about his hobbies. Nothing to do with the way your heart sped up a little seeing him at his desk in the mornings at all. Completely sensible and utilitarian curiosity.

So, rather than continuing to pester him for answers you decided you would simply observe him to get to know him better. Admittedly, as far as subjects for study he was an interesting one. And very nice to look at.

You learned quite a bit about the sleepy man through your observations, jotting down everything you learned in a small, unassuming notebook you kept on hand during work hours. 

For example, he spends an hour in the break room every day eating concerning amounts of convenience store ramen and reading random books about obscure subjects like 101 Facts About Wooly Mammoths and Dating Advice for Older Men. Always a different book, and he always manages to finish it by the time his self-imposed break is over. If anyone tries to make conversation with him during that time period, he will pretend to fall asleep. You’re honestly starting to believe he has narcolepsy or something. Or just very selective hearing.

Contrary to your initial assumptions, he also does have a sense of humor. All of his jokes are told with his usual flat affectation and could easily be mistaken for serious comments, but once you start to look so closely at him it’s easier to pick up on the subtle, teasing drawl at the end of his quips or the way his nose twitches a little with the effort not to smile when he’s messing with you. 

You were in the middle of conducting a very serious investigation about his various micro expressions one night when the two of you stopped by a crepe stand on your way home from work. 

You had already been to the crepe stand a few times a few times with Tara. It was a cute little business run by an older man and his son who had recently graduated from university. You had rambled to Xavier enthusiastically about how they were the only place that had your favorite combination of fillings and how you were craving something sweet, and he had only nodded and said “mh”, which you had learned to translate as enthusiastic agreement.

The owner’s son happened to be running the stand that day and was just as friendly and outgoing with you as always, winking at you when he asked if you wanted your usual. His easygoing smile had faded, however, with a quick glance behind you before he busied himself with making your crepe.

You turned around in confusion, only finding Xavier with the same mild, spaced out expression as always looking innocently off to the side. 

A few minutes later, you dutifully hand over a delicious looking savory crepe filled with meat to the silver-haired man before looking over your own, practically salivating over the combination of fruits and cream. He stared it with what you had recently identified as confusion before looking to you imploringly.

“Not sweet?”

“Oh!” you flustered a little, realizing how presumptuous you had been in ordering for him, “Sorry, I just thought- you prefer savory to sweet right? I mean, when Jenna brings pastries in you always take a croissant instead of a donut-,”

You cut yourself off before you could start listing all the different ways you had been a total creep recently.

“I can get you a sweet one if you prefer,” you whispered out, trying your best to look completely unaffected.

A soft huff left Xavier’s lips, and you looked up to see that gentle half-smile he sometimes gave you and a very soft look in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, “I do prefer savory things.”

The second half of his sentence, oddly enough, was accompanied by a very smug glance at the owner’s son who looked rightfully confused and possibly a little nervous.

Armed with your contrasting crepes, the two of you chose to stroll and eat, enjoying the gentle spring breeze that blanketed the evening as you walked. Absentmindedly, you mentioned the owner’s son again in passing, praising him for his skill in creating the perfect ratio of fillings. Xavier suddenly made a face you hadn’t seen on him before.

A tiny twitch of his nose, similar to when he was trying not to laugh, but followed by a miniscule pout before he took a rather aggressive bite of his crepe as if it had done something to offend him personally.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to whip out your little notebook to record this breaking update in your investigation but refrained for the meantime, tilting your head to the side and studying him closely.

“Is something wrong with your crepe…?” 

He froze, glancing down at his food contemplatively.

“…Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’m done,” he declared bluntly, turning to glare at your almost finished crepe with equal hostility, “Are you done?”

“I mean- I guess?” You blinked at him.

“Mh.”

Wordlessly, he took your crepe from you and ambled off to find a nearby trashcan. You took the opportunity to whip out your notebook to catalogue all the new data you had collected. 

The nose twitch was multipurpose – sometimes indicating amusement and sometimes indicating… irritation? And the tiny pout. Did he have a stomachache? More information was needed.

You were so wrapped up your excited theorizing that you failed to notice the presence of someone coming up right behind you, peering over your shoulder to read the words you were jotting down.

“I don’t have a stomachache,” a deep voice rumbled directly in your ear, causing you to shriek and fling the notebook further down the sidewalk. It scraped against the concrete before flopping pathetically next to a storm drain. 

You whipped around in abject horror only to find Xavier’s face two inches from yours, looking at you with an unreadable expression. 

“That was not at all what it looked like,” you lied blatantly, eyes darting between him and the notebook.

“What did it look like?” he asked mildly, his face betraying nothing of his current mood. He was still close enough to you that you could count all of his individual lashes and make out a few tiny scars along his jaw.  

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not.”

“Mh.”

Xavier didn’t press the subject, instead going over to retrieve the notebook. Mortification rolled over your entire being as he began rifling through the pages. You wished a car was driving by so you could throw yourself in front of it.

“It’s seriously not as creepy as it seems,” you sound delusional even to yourself, “I just wanted to get to know you better.”

While you were panicking and wondering how soon you could transfer departments, Xavier was staring down at the pages filled with your cute handwriting in contemplation.

It would seem that he had underestimated you once again. 

Finding you in this lifetime, as a dying star well past its expiration date, he hadn’t been expecting much in the way of your relationship with him. It was simply an impulse he could not ignore – the honor of being close to you. He sought out your brilliance and would always endeavor to orbit around you but it was hardly even a thought in his brain that you would be drawn to him in the same way. Not when he was so tired. Not when he could only offer you a beautiful afterimage of what he had once been.

He should not have doubted you. In every life, you were always the only one to really see him. The only one to even bother looking beyond his blinding light. After so many years of existence and so many different identities, he only ever really saw himself through the reflection of your gaze. He was a fool to have assumed your soul would falter even if he was scattered across the galaxy instead of whole as he once was. 

“Forgive me,” his voice was hoarser than his usually airy cadence, his gaze more focused than you were used to when he looked over at you.

Confusing as it may have been, you didn’t need your notebook to identify his current expression. When Xavier finally looked back at you, the way you had been looking at him all these weeks, it was impossible to mistake the devotion in his eyes.

Rafayel turned the conch shell over in his hands, letting out a thoughtful hum as he let his fingers dance across the spikes. The outside was a gradient of pretty blues that melted into a soft pink closer to the center. A small sticker with a price that had been hastily covered up with marker stuck to the side. The artist’s eye twitched minutely at the sight of it clashing against the otherwise pleasant color palette, already using a sharp nail to carefully peel it off.

“Isn’t it pretty?” you gushed a little, a self-satisfied grin tugging at your lips as you pointed at the shell as though couldn’t see it, “If you put your ear against it, you can hear the ocean!”

He let out a petulant scoff at this, eyes narrowing at the conch shell like it was guilty of scamming you and he was about to put it on trial.

“It’s lying to you, cutie,” he scowled a bit, as though the conch had advertised this gimmick itself, before pointing dramatically at the waves crashing right outside the glass of his windows, “and did you lose your vision or something? The ocean’s right outside if you want to listen to it so bad. …Maybe if you visited me more often you���d-,”

“No, shut up, I know,” you rolled your eyes and nudged him a little before brightening again, “but still – it really sounds like waves! Besides, I thought you could take it with you when you go on your trip for that client meeting. I looked it up. There aren’t any beaches nearby, the whole city is landlocked. I figured you might get homesick or something. Now you don’t have to!”

Rafayel stared at you. Things had been strange the whole morning, starting from when you showed up at his doorstep lacking any of your usual complaints about his antics and without any coercing on his part. 

You had come to visit him of your own accord? You had looked up the geography of his business trip because you were worried about him getting homesick? He mentally scanned through all the elaborate schemes to get your attention he had acted out recently, wondering which one of them had prompted such a reaction from you. He had been so busy with a new series for a very annoying client the past few weeks and he couldn’t think of anything he had done recently that would have warranted this. So why?

“Besides, it kinda looks like your eyes, right?” You said off-handedly, only half paying attention as you adjusted a setting on your watch, casual as if you hadn’t just said something that made his already rapid heartrate speed into overdrive and the tips of his ears flush a pretty red.

Just when he thought he was starting to get a handle on this version of you, that he had figured out the proper tune to draw you closer, you decided to change the rules of the game again. He supposed he should have been used to it by now. Every version of you always managed to shatter his expectations as easily as you breathed. As unpredictable as the ocean, and just as beautiful to him. But honestly, what was a fish to do? How was he supposed to ever prepare for you?

“Are you trying to win employee of the month or something?” he scrambled a little, whipping his head to the side and trying to keep the squeakiness out of his voice, “I won’t be giving you a bonus for it. Just so you know.”

You scowled at this, glancing away from your watch and trying to swipe the conch shell out of his hands.

“Whatever. If you don’t want it just say that,” you huffed as he held it out of your reach, still without looking at you.

“Be quiet,” he sniffed haughtily, holding the shell up to his ear and pushing you away gently by your forehead with his other hand, “I’m listening to the ocean.”

“I thought you said-”

Insufferably, he hushed you and closed his eyes under the guise of concentrating so you wouldn’t see the softness of his expression. All he could hear was random ambient sound, not even close to the vibrant complexities of the sea that encompassed his birthplace. Even still, as he pictured you carefully rummaging through different shells at the pier market and comparing their hues to his eyes, he had never felt closer to home. 

As much as he'd like to pretend he was the siren ensnaring you into his trap, he was well aware that that honor belonged to you. Regardless of the time or the place or the bodies you both inhabited, your song was a tune that could never be erased from the core of his being and one he would always walk towards willingly. How annoying.

For a man who lived his life with complete precision, who planned out every day with strict control and little room for superfluities, it was nearly impossible not to notice even the slightest changes in routine.

As such, every tiny alteration you made to his otherwise balanced life was meticulously documented and filed away. Not with annoyance or disapproval, as some might expect, but instead with the intention to figure out how to best accommodate for your whims without disrupting his own routines or, infinitely more abhorrent to consider, burdening your own carefree sensibility with his neuroses.

Pausing in the doorway to straighten out the shoes you had haphazardly kicked off on your way in. Making sure you had a glass of water next to your daily iced coffee so that you wouldn’t get dehydrated. Carefully holding onto your hand and keeping you steady as you insisted on walking across the side of a bridge rather than the sidewalk next to him. Despite the stoic expression and steadfast seriousness he exhibited while preforming these simple tasks for you, he did not consider them to be a burden. It was a privilege to bear witness the vivacity you brought into his world.

He was content, in this way, to watch you bulldoze through life with reckless abandon and dutifully reorganize the chaos you left in your wake. It was enough to feel the brilliance of your warm light soak into his cold skin. He would remain steady and controlled for the both of you.

You were, however, a little less content with this arrangement. Zayne was steady. Constant. A stone pillar for you to rest against when you couldn’t handle standing up on your own. You loved this about him, but he wasn’t infallible. Wasn’t impervious to desire and indulgence. You loved this about him too. You just wished he could learn to love it about himself.

You knew your boyfriend loved sweet things. It was something you often teased him about, mostly joking in every respect besides the potential cavities. To be honest, you found it endearing and loved to see evidence of the gentle, sweet man hidden beneath his frosty exterior. 

The only thing that really concerned you about the doctor’s habit was that despite his propensity for baked goods and sugary candy, he didn’t actually seem to enjoy the process of eating them very much at all.

It was often during times of stress that he’d make a detour by the local bakery after a long shift. He would eat pastries as quickly as possible, a stark contrast from his usual habits that left little time for savoring the flavor. It almost seemed like an uncontrollable urge, a shameful impulse that he wanted to push through as quickly as possible. As utilitarian as one could be while digging into a strawberry shortcake. 

Zayne was a tempered man, driven by the ideology that if he lost even an ounce of control, he wouldn’t be able to stop the spiral. He wasn’t someone who could integrate indulgence into his routine halfheartedly. There was no true enjoyment to be found from acquiescing to his desire, only a temporary slip that would be accompanied by unfulfilled resolutions to abstain in the future.

You disagreed.

The two of you had a nice, cozy dinner together every Friday after work. Usually consisting of takeout, often delayed due to both of your hectic schedules, and sometimes taking place on the uncomfortable wooden benches outside the hospital but you always made it happen without fail. 

One night after a good meal with lighthearted conversation about your respective days, you retreated to Zayne’s fridge and returned with a miniature cake and an excited smile.

Zayne stared. It was a pretty cake, artfully piped cream and strawberries between layers of sponge cake with a delicate dusting of powdered sugar on top. His brow twitched minutely, mentally scanning through significant dates or anomalous recent events that could have prompted such an extravagance as you carefully removed it from the plastic bakery box. 

“…What’s the occasion?” he finally asked with great reluctance, disappointed by his own inability to decipher what he was missing.

“Hm?” you blinked, setting out two dessert forks and keeping your countenance deliberately casual, “No occasion, it just looked good.”

He stared at the cake as if it held all the world’s secrets.

“Did something happen today?” he pressed on, carefully assessing your mental state as if expecting you to suddenly have a mental breakdown.

“I had a craving for cake, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, not waiting for him before digging your fork into the side of dessert.

He watched as you savored your bite of cake with simple contentedness, no hint of stress or shame about the enjoyment you took from a useless indulgence. Not giving in to any kind of uncontrollable urge or distracting from any kind of emotional need. Pleasure for pleasure’s sake.

“You aren’t going to make me eat this whole thing by myself, are you?” you pouted playfully at him, making the puppy dog expression that always got you an exasperated huff followed by the immediate entertainment of whatever you asked for, “It doesn’t taste as good if we aren’t both enjoying it.”

Zayne, as always, weighed out his options out. If it was for you, maybe it was okay. As always.

He picked up the fork and took a slow bite.

After that night you had decided this was now an inherent part of your weekly routine, showing up with brightly colored macarons, beautifully decorated tarts, and decadent chocolate creations depending on what caught your eye at the bakery. You started calling it your ‘mandatory sweet treat’ and continued the tradition without fail. Always eaten in tandem with a balanced meal and shared slowly over happy conversation. A celebration of your bond rather than a shameful impulse. 

Zayne continued to tell himself that he was just playing along with your whims as usual. After all, how could it be wrong when you smiled so sweetly at him as you handed him his fork? 

It wasn’t until one week, when you stumbled into his house flustered after an unusually difficult mission and no time to stop by the bakery before closing that he finally had to admit his own enjoyment for the activity.

There was a brief silence after dinner was finished that week. He stared at the cleared table as if expecting something delicious to appear out of thin air. When it didn’t, he cleared his throat and clasped his fingers together on the table with his usual sense of decorum. 

“…No sweet treat today?” he asked ruefully.

You couldn’t contain your grin, whipping out your phone immediately to scroll through bakeries and ice cream parlors that stayed open late for sugar fiends like your adorable boyfriend.

Something had shifted recently. A tiny change in your dynamic that pricked ever so slightly at the center of his chest. Like everything else with you in this new lifetime, he tried his best not to sink his teeth into it and drag it forcefully out into the open. Used all his self-control to let you tend to it on your own terms and pretended not to notice. 

In hindsight, maybe the first change had been after he showered in your apartment for the first time. He had taken a polite amount of your body wash, trying his best not to infringe on your hospitality like a normal, human house guest, but as the scent of it (the scent of you) rolled over him his pupils had dilated. Fingers clenching against the bottle with the minute tingle of claws that no longer existed trying to come to the surface.

Smelling like you, knowing if anyone else walked by they would associate him with you and you with him, fed that deeply hidden instinct he tried so hard not to bother you with. You had scarcely gotten over your disgustand he was going to do his very best to keep it that way, annoying and primal dragon brain be damned. 

But still, just this once. Just this little thing would be okay, right?

Before he knew it he was drenching himself in the scent. Indulgent and greedy and marked by you. 

When he confessed nonchalantly to having used your entire bottle of body wash, playing it off as a taunt and hoping you didn’t notice the faint flush of his cheeks, he expected your usual annoyance or scathing remark. Some sort of sly dig that he could latch onto and use to keep your attention on him. It was the game this version of you liked to play, and like every version of himself he was happy to indulge. 

Instead, you had just hummed thoughtfully. Eyes a little distant as though ruminating over something in your head. The switch up made him tense just a little. Wonder if you could see through to the most feral part of him and if you would scorn him for it.

“You’ll have to give me a bottle of yours, then,” you said instead, eye contact oddly intentional for the moment, “to make it even.”

He almost jolted in place, clenching his fists at his sides for just a moment before relaxing.

She doesn’t know what it means. How could she? Swallow it down. Keep pretending that you can be human.

“Your negotiation skills have improved, kitten,” he speaks mildly, instead of pinning you to the couch the way he wanted to, “I suppose fair is fair.”

The second shift came in the form of a necklace, elaborately encrusted with bloodred rubies and sparkling diamonds. It rested in its glass case at an underground auction, the gleam of it against black velvet activating that familiar desire to possess and hoard away treasures so that nobody else could have them. He pictured it laying delicately across your neck and had to stop the rumble that threatened to emit from his chest. 

He sprung it on you right before an undercover mission to gain intel about a powerful protocore, one of many he had sought out and curated to spend a little more time with you. Tried to feed you some line about how you needed to fit in with the wealthy crowd you were attempting to infiltrate that night.

He expected you to remark about the exorbitant tastes of the uber rich or fluster about the idea of accidentally damaging such an expensive item and try to force it back into his hands. Both reactions were equally endearing to him, as was everything about you.

Instead, you only looked at him with that same thoughtful expression, allowing him to gently drape it over you and fasten it while narrowly avoiding the urge to take a deep inhale of the back of your neck. 

You examined yourself in the mirror, fiddling with the stones delicately, but your gaze was on his reflection behind you when you spoke.

“It’s pretty,” you spoke simply, your tone of voice one he hadn’t heard from you before. Something more gentle, not quite complacent but almost approving.

As if you were praising his tastes. Praising his hoard. Accepting his courting gift.

It was more difficult than ever to swallow that rumble back down again. The reaction was new, but you couldn’t possibly have understood the delusions you were feeding. Stay human. Keep letting her come to you. You already used up all your luck the first time around, you have to be more careful now.

His eyes scarcely left your neck for the rest of the night.

It wasn’t until days later that the final thread of his self-control snapped. The intel mission had taken longer than expected, and you were staying in his house to avoid the tedious commute from Linkon. A practical solution, he insisted to both you and himself, nothing to do with the primal desire to keep you firmly in his territory. 

He could scarcely pinpoint how it had happened, but sometime during your quiet evening routine of reading next to each other on the giant, plush couch in his living room you had ended up curled between the couch’s arm and him. You weren’t pinned down by any means, but you were entirely engulfed by his larger frame. If someone were to walk by they would not even be able to see you beyond him.

Completely covered on all sides. Protected from threats. Guarded by him. Nothing could touch you tucked so deeply into his territory, surrounded by him and his hoard and completely at ease.

Despite his most sincere efforts, he couldn’t stop the rumble from finally emitting from his chest. Couldn’t stop the deep purr that vibrated throughout him and rolled over you. 

He froze. Cut himself off from making any noise and, for a moment, even breathing. It was with great hesitation that he forced himself to meet your gaze. Fearful of the disgust and reproach that clouded your first meeting in this lifetime making a reappearance as you finally recognized the part of himself, he tried to keep buried for you.

Instead, that curious expression scanned over his face. Your head tilted to the side just a bit. Tentatively, you reached for his hair from where he was resting against your side and began running delicate fingers through it. His breath hitched. You glanced away from him, returning to your book but keeping up your gentle ministrations.

His purring started up again. A tiny smile twitched at the corners of your lips.

Caleb dutifully held the umbrella above your head as though he was getting paid for it, but you caught his gaze drifting to the puddles collecting near the sidewalk multiple times. Your mind drifted to rainy summer days when you were kids, sloshing around in puddles and competing to see who could slosh the most water at the other before Gran would poke her head out the front door to scold you both inside. Something twisted in your chest. Without thinking much further about it, you ducked out beneath the umbrella and took a flying leap into the nearest puddle, delighting in the small splash kicked up by your boots. 

“You trying to catch a cold, Pips?” Caleb’s tone was shrouded in playfulness, the way it always was around you, but underneath it was a brief waver, a sharpening of his gaze that revealed the true panic he felt at even the possibility of harm befalling you under his watch.

 The hypervigilance that couldn’t differentiate between a mild sickness and the sight of your battered, tiny body strapped to a white table. 

“So what if I do?” you challenged him then, hopping to an adjacent puddle and trying to keep the intention out of your voice. He flinched, as if you had just said something absurd. Opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again before trying to adjust to something more casual. Teasing and relaxed instead of the phrenetic and overbearing mess he tried so hard to hide from you.

“If you get sick you’ll have to skip the congressman’s dinner, and I’ll have to go alone. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” 

Right. An annual, stuffy dinner party where a bunch of government officials got together to talk about boring politics and pretend it was necessary to use four different forks for one meal. Half of them actively held grudges against Caleb for his unprecedented skyrocket to authority within the fleet and the other half thought he could be manipulated into granting them favors because of his youth. None of them deserved his time, you thought petulantly, not in the way you did. 

“So come get a cold with me,” you rebutted, tilting your head to the side playfully, “Then we can just stay home and play video games all day instead.” 

Caleb paused at this. You could practically see the cogs whirring in his brain as he tried to reconcile his pathological need for your safety with the temptation of staying inside with you all day, just the two of you, maybe curled up together on the couch as you ate snacks he would carefully prepare for you as he nurses you back to health, maybe sick with the same germs. His head tilted to the side like a puppy who had just heard the words walk, treat, and good boy in succession. 

 “…I bet we could even knock out a whole Lego set before we get better,” you sweetened the deal. 

Caleb practically flung the umbrella onto the sidewalk at this, giving no warning before launching himself into the puddle next to you and causing a significantly larger splash. You shrieked in both offense and thrill and splashed him back, reveling in the delighted laugh the usually curated man let out. The grin on his face was a little more crooked and uncontrolled than his usual teasing smile, the shrewd look in his eyes when he looked anywhere besides you just the tiniest bit lighter. It wasn’t a lot, but you were grateful for any amount of levity you could offer to him. Listening to the sound of his unrestrained laughter, something in you settled just a bit. 

For all his intelligence and capability, Caleb’s perception of himself was skewed by his self-imposed reluctance to ever look in the mirror. Caleb believed he was a feral wolf, with teeth too sharp to be filed down and starved by his trauma in a way that meant he’d never feel full again. So instead, he tried his best to show you a puppy. Docile and obedient without any appetite for vengeance or destruction. Someone who could curl up at your feet without you getting scared he’d sink his teeth into you the way he wanted to. You were the only one that knew he was neither.

Caleb was not the perfect, golden boy he spent so much of his life curating for you. He also wasn’t the cold, unfeeling weapon of destruction he desperately tried to hide away from your sight. He was something in between, childlike in his rage and his joy in equal measure. Calculating, certainly, and more than a little manipulative, but the end goal had always been to protect the both of you from a world that had never been as kind as he deserved. Caleb was not a monster, as he thought, or a perfect shield, as he so desperately wanted you to think. He was just a man, and once just a very scared boy. Just yours. And you would spend the rest of your life trying to prove that to him.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[cherryyluvs]

-MARK X READER, REX X READER✰

SUMMERY: A fair date with Mark & Rex that turns into a chaotic mix of rigged games and sweet moments under the lights, because winning your heart is the real prize.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

MARK GRAYSON !

The idea was totally his. Mark wanted to do something fun and different for your date. So when he saw that the fair would be opened, he knew it was perfect. He was excited, cotton candy, cheesy rides, and getting time to spend the whole night with you? What could be better than this? "Okay, we have to get funnel cake first. And then we have to get on the Ferris wheel."

Drags you straight to the food stands. Mark is always hungry, so of course the first thing he does is buy enough fair food to feed a small village. Corn dogs, deep fried Oreos, caramel apples. He's got it all.

Fails miserably at the games. He knows they're a scam but that doesn't stop him from trying to get you a gift. The ring toss? Impossible. “Uh. Okay. That was a warm up.” The 'Test your strength' hammer game? He definitely overestimates how hard to hit it and nearly breaks the whole thing.

Gets a little pouty about it.

Mark cheats just a tiny bit. You catch him using his Viltrumite strength to finally win you a prize. The game operator squints but they let it slide because Mark looks way too proud of himself. “See? I told you I could do it.

The Ferris wheel is the highlight of the night. He makes sure you guys get the seat right at the top, where the whole fair sparkles blow, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. It's quiet, peaceful, and just for a second he forgets about being a superhero. It's just you and him <3

The nights ends by winning you a tiny trinket. Maybe it's a cheap bracelet or a silly fair prize, but he hands it to you like it's the most valuable thing over. "Here, now you'll always remember our first fair date."

REX SPLODE !

Rex pretends like he's too cool for the fair. "A fair? Babe, that's for kids." But the moment you guys there, he's dragging you toward the turkey leg stand like a man on a mission.

He refuses to buy just one thing. If there's food, he's eating it. "You ever had deep fried butter? No? Babe, you gotta try this." He's handing you the weirdest fair food, grinning every time you make a face.

Tries the basketball hoop game first. He thinks he's got this in the bag since he is an athlete after all. But the ball bounces off the tiny rim every single time, you're holding back a laugh while he's just standing there. “Nah, nah, I ain't leavin til I win somethin!" He ends up spending way too much money trying to beat one game.

He is going to win you something even if it kills him. “Babe, don’t even worry. I got this.” (Spoiler: He does not got this.)

At some point, he cheats. Look, it's not his fault his powers are useful! You didn't see him flick his wrist and make the ball explode off the backboard to land perfectly in the hoop. If the guy running the game didn't catch it, then did he really cheat?

“BOOM, BABY! WHO’S THE CHAMP?” He’s yelling while holding up the giant plush bear he just won.

Ferris wheel is his moment to be sweet. He acts like he doesn't care about "sappy fair crap", but when you two get to the top. He actually shuts up for once, looking at you, eyes soft. Before resting a hand on your thigh. “This ain’t bad, y’know? Just us, the view… kinda perfect.”

Ends the night with fireworks. If there aren't any fireworks at the fair, he makes some just for you. Just to impress you. "Boom. Fire works just for you." <3

[hibiskissess]

Heavenly Affection

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Malleus Draconia x Reader

You always left an indescribable sweet taste.

No matter when your lips collided, Malleus could always recognize the lingering remnants of a sweet taste plaguing his mouth. Perhaps it was the sweetness from your heart finding its way to your mouth to reward him, or maybe you just liked eating candy and the taste stuck. Malleus would never know the true answer.

However, he would never be one to complain about the matter. Far from it; he craved the saccharine sensation you brought into his life.

Because this taste always lingered in you, it made Malleus crave it all the more whenever he knew you could grant him that sweet escape.

Seated across from one another, you could feel Malleus’ gaze piercing you. The two of you were together in Ramshackle’s living room eating ice cream on the coffee table, so why wasn’t he eating his share? You knew it was one of his favorite foods, so what was the deal?

Your confused eyes met Malleus’ emerald ones as you questioned him. “Is something up? You’re barely eating.”

Malleus looked at you as if he was admiring an ancient gargoyle that he had longed to see for a millennium.

“Nothing is the matter, Child of man.” A sly smirk emerged on his features, “I just wish to consume this treat in another way.”

You nodded your head, still confused as you ate another spoonful of your own bowl. “Like… as an ice cream sandwich instead? I just bought what I could with my allowance, Malleus. I should’ve asked you what you wanted first. Sorry.”

Your sincere regret melted his reserve, hurting his heart.

“No, no. Do not apologize. I meant not in a different form, but rather simply by another means.”

Upon seeing your confusion once more, Malleus smiled to himself.

“I suppose it would be better to show you instead.”

He crawled over to you, sitting by your side. His breath caught in his throat when his gaze graced your features, the experience still stirring a feeling deep inside of him no matter how many times it happened. Hesitantly, a cold hand came to cup your cheek as he spoke.

“May I?”

A desperate, craving look painted his visage as he waited for approval. The idea of him going against your wishes hurt his soul more than any sword could. It was his job as a stronger being to protect you, so if he were to break that trust, he would never forgive himself no matter how many years passed.

As a nod from you graced his vision, Malleus could feel the warmth spread through his chest. He closed the distance between you, his lips connecting with yours.

Instantly he could taste the sweetness inside of your mouth. An uncharacteristic whine squeezed out of his throat as his tongue wandered, eager to continue to taste you.

Another hand came to entangle itself with your hair as Malleus deepened the kiss, his breathing growing more uneven with each passing moment.

His eyelashes fluttered as the reality of the situation settled in. He was kissing his one and only- the one who his heart yearned for every time the sun set and rose. However, it was hard to truly consider this reality to Malleus. Whenever he was in your company, it was like his life was a dream he would never pray to wake from.

Malleus could feel you squirm as the kiss began to stretch longer. Needing breath, you pulled back, disconnecting your union. Malleus admired your flustered face, soaking in every detail. No matter if you considered it an imperfection or not, he would always cherish every feature. He loved every bit of you, and especially in this moment, your taste.

He grinned, bringing his lips to graze your cheek. “I hope you understand what I mean now. I simply wanted to taste it from your mouth and not from a futile spoon.”

His forwardness drew a blush onto your cheeks, making him feel all the more satisfied.

Your hands returned to your bowl, stirring around some of the melted ice cream before bringing another scoop to your mouth. The cold sensation contrasted with the heat Malleus brought to you after the intense moment.

“You could just ask, y’know.”

Malleus tilted his head to the side, still pleased from your earlier affection. “Is that so? Then I suppose I’ll have to take you up on that offer.”

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐹𝑎𝑒

Warning: sexual content, age gap (20–???), r4pe, noncon, breeding kink, forced breeding, gagging, choking, spell, mass murder, death of children, black flag oc.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★ @sparklystrawberrycloud ★ @cutelittlesugarfairy ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Masterlist

Yandere Fae who has known you since you were a little girl when you wandered into his forest chasing a butterfly.

Yandere Fae who was tempted to kill you when you entered their territory; but he didn't do it since he was surprised by the fact that you passed without any problem the magical barrier that was holding him.

Yandere Fae who for some reason and against his or her better judgment ends up playing with you; He sits on the soft moss-covered ground while you cheerfully arrange flowers and leaves in his long white hair.

Yandere Fae who feels a little disappointed when you tell him you have to come home or your parents will scold you; He acts indifferent and tries to forget what happened, only to be pleasantly surprised when you return the next day.

Yandere Fae who begins meeting with you every day in the same place, but first makes you promise never to tell other humans about his existence.

Yandere Fae who feeds you candy in exchange for promising that you will be his in the future when you grow up and you happily promise it just wanting to eat more of those delicious candy; unaware of the huge mistake you made.

Yandere Fae who during one of those encounters ends up asking you your name and you innocently give it to him, ignoring the enormous and absolute power you have given him over you.

Yandere Fae who scares you to no end when he kills a man who followed you when you went to see him; Although you don't know it, he could see the bad intentions in the heart of the man who followed you.

Yandere Fae who tries to stop you when you run towards your house sobbing, but you sneak outside the barrier and he can't follow you; He waits for you to come back the next day to console you but you don't come back, you don't come back that day, nor the next, nor the next...

Yandere Fae who waits 15 long years with his sanity completely broken to be able to see you again, he feels betrayed and upset by the fact that you disappeared without a trace, leaving him alone again.

Yandere Fae who one day finally gains enough strength to break the barrier that holds him and keeps him chained to the clearing, now that he is free he only has one thing on his mind (besides giving you your rightful place at his side, obviously) to find and punish his disobedient wife for being so cruel.

After destroying your village and cruelly slaughtering all the inhabitants, not even caring about the children, he broke into your humble home and killed your parents when they tried to attack him to protect you. He also killed your innocent little sister right before your eyes. A muffled scream escaped your parched lips, and he approached you, taking you tightly in his arms before throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you to the forest clearing where you two had first met.

You tried to fight him off, twisting and kicking your legs to try and escape. Your fists pounded against his back, but the attempt was pathetic at best. Frustrated by your stubbornness, he muttered something in a language you couldn't understand, and suddenly your body felt heavy and powerless. When they finally reached the clearing he placed you on the soft mattress of moss that covered the floor.

“I apologize for the spell, but your unpleasant attitude was beginning to tire me, dear wife.”

His voice comes out soft as velvet almost like a mockery as his long, pale fingers trace the contour of your face, his long, sharp nails leaving red trails on the skin of your cheeks but stopping short of cutting the skin.

“I'm not your wife! You... are a monster!”

You try to put all your hate into your voice so he can see how upset you are about all of this, about everything he caused, but your voice sounds more like a muffled stutter, your tongue heavy with the disturbing fullness you feel in your body and mind.

“Ha ha ha! You're very funny, dear wife, but you shouldn't say things like that... your husband might get very upset, and who knows what he'd do to you?”

His laughter cuts off abruptly and his voice turns terrifyingly serious; you can't help but shudder in fear; He takes your silence as a sign of submission, so he wastes no time and begins to remove the simple dress you're wearing. His long nails cut through the fabric with terrifying ease. When your body is exposed to his eyes his hands travel to your breasts and he squeezes firmly.

“Such beautiful tits, you've become a real beauty... you're a work of art, all for your husband to enjoy, aren't you, dear wife?”

When you purse your lips, refusing to respond, he lets out a dark laugh; He looks at you with half-closed eyes, a wicked smile slipping onto his lips before he takes your nipples between his ring and index fingers, tugging firmly at your nubs, hardened by the cold, making you let out a stifled gasp and a shiver running down your spine.

“You are a fighter my dear wife and I really can't wait to see you break down and accept your destiny at my side~”

He wastes no time and opens his pants releasing his hard member; the pale length is adorned with a pink mushroom head and glistening pearls of precum at the tip. He pumps his cock with one of his hands while rubbing tight circles on your pussy with the other, being careful not to cut yourself with his nails. you feel a hot shame as your body reacts to his caresses, your pussy slowly getting wet almost dripping with love juices.

“Awww, look at that, my dear wife. Your pussy cries for me. Maybe your foolish mind won't accept its place, but your pretty body certainly will. At least this little pussy is honest with me.”

You frown at his teasing comment, letting out a gasp as two of his fingers delve into your tight heat, his fingers rubbing against your warm, wet inner walls. He leans over you, getting closer to your ear and you can't help but shiver when he speaks and his warm breath hits your skin.

“We'll have even more fun when I take you to the Fae realm with me. With my kind around, you'll think twice about doing something stupid, my dear wife.”

He laughs darkly and removes his fingers from your pussy, your sticky fluids cover his fingers and he smiles before putting them in his mouth cleaning them, when he removes them he murmurs a “delicious~” before taking his cock in his hand guiding it towards your sensitive pussy, you close your eyes as he rubs his fat mushroom head against your wet folds for a few seconds before sliding inside you.

“What a tight pussy you have, dear wife~ you feel like paradise, the wait was worth it ~”

He savors the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock, your walls throb trying to adapt to his thick circumference, he gives you a few tentative thrusts before beginning to thrust into you firmly, you release gasps and moans at the pain mixed with the pleasure you feel, he notices the outline of his cock that is marked on your belly with each thrust, smiling his hands grab your waist and squeeze the bulge.

“You really are a sweet little thing, aren't you? Look at my cock pushing its way and abusing your pussy, I can't wait to see my son growing inside you, dear wife.”

He laughs darkly at his own words, one of his hands moves up to your chest squeezing your nipple hard twisting it between his fingers, his balls slapping again and again against your plush ass, you feel dizzy at the feeling of his fat cock hitting your cervix along with his fingers pinching your sore nipple, your toes tighten and you roll your eyes lost in pleasure.

“You're really enjoying this aren't you? Of course if I look at your fucked up face, it's very sensual you really know how to drive me crazy, you're really a little slut ~”

He releases your nipple and brings his fingers to your half-open mouth, you choke when he puts two fingers inside, flattening your tongue, he laughs pleased when you suck on his fingers clumsily, his other hand rubs circles over your pussy, your trembling legs tighten around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He presses himself onto you even more, his fingers are stuck so deep in your throat that you gag, he takes his fingers out of your mouth just grabbing your legs, unwrapping them from his waist and opening them firmly giving him room to fuck you even deeper, his cock goes in and out of your weeping pussy over and over again, his cock throbs as his release approaches.

“I'm going to cum deep inside you and give you the blessing of being the mother of my children, you know my parents had many children... I have forty-three brothers and sisters, but I'm sure that you and I will have even more than that, my dear ~”

With those words and a few erratic thrusts he comes, he buries himself deep inside you while ropes and ropes of his thick semen fill your rubbery uterus and fertilize you, he hardly seems agitated unlike you who is blushing, disheveled and drooling beneath him, he keeps his cock inside you although a little of his semen overflows and falls to the ground beneath you causing many small flowers to grow quickly, he looks at your eyes, your pupils are a dull gray due to the spell, he can't help but smile.

“I think I went a little overboard with the effect of the spell, I should have known that your weak human mind would go a little crazy, but I will take advantage of your good will until the spell fades and returns to you.”

[r0manceplanet]

NSFW Alphabet with 1x1x1x1

A/N: Well Folks, I finally have came out with the masterpiece some of y’all have been waiting for now, I worked extra hard on this (as usual…) and I’m exhausted 😭🙏 but I think I’m proud of this and now I’m gonna go eat wax candies and stay off tumblr to process what the hell i just wrote 🥰. Enjoy!

⚠️Warnings: Smut smut smut smut anddd smut, it’s smut folks what do you expect? Anyone can read this but please be responsible to since i dont control what people can or can’t do.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

• With 1x for this, it really depends on the aspect of it.

• The aftercare can be either more traditional with cuddles, praises, cleaning up…

• And I feel like he would enjoy just being cuddled up in your arms while you whisper sweet praises in his ear.

• And of course, he would also do the same to as long as he was comfortable enough doing it, he likes to hold you in his arms and clean you up.

• However, that’s if he’s feeling up to being all sweet and everything, especially if the aftercare is in private or public.

• Most of the time, including at the start of your dating he would mostly just roll off of you and fall asleep, and never speak about it the next day (unless you do).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• 1x takes a lot of pride and care with his hair (with him being in his betrayed form). His hair means a lot to him..!

• 1x definitely loves it when you play with his hair, especially during sex since your able to get a few or more noises out of him. And just you tugging at his hair proved to him how good he makes you feel.

• For you though? I don’t think he couldn’t pick a favorite body part from you, unless if he’s held captive and had a gun pointed to his head, he would say he loves seeing your neck down to your lower back covered in his love marks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

• Jeez, this man is so gross when it comes to cum, NF it doesn’t even matter how far he goes about it either.

• 1x is careful whenever he decides to finish inside you, he does not wanna father (another) child at the moment.

• However, it makes him feel… something whenever he sees his cum inside you, your realese mixing with his own, it makes it send shivers down his back.

• Oh, and he would be so teasing about it too, he’ll even push down on your stomach just to see some of it spilling out of you.

• But, if he’s not finishing inside of you he’s either cumming on your face/body or in your mouth, he just gets more hard when he sees his cum on your body.. your just so beautiful when your like that!

• No matter where his cum is, wether it’ll be all over your body, in your mouth, inside you etc.. there will always be no more sight any prettier than seeing you painted with his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• His dirty secret is that he keeps souvenirs of your belongings whenever you are with him, whenever you guys had you adventures he likes to steal a few of your things or keeps sake whenever he doesn’t see you

• And whenever he’s really needy for you, or he just misses you, he pulls out a box full of your belongings, with one of your underwear’s and starts sniffing it (and jerking off to it) to feel comforted by your scent.

• He even has a couple of photos saved when he’s taken pictures of you during your little… sessions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

• Bro has literally -0 experience with anything that has to do with dating, especially if it’s sex too.

• And once he started dating too, he was (obviously) still inexperienced, so you would have to guide him and his movements though it all, but he can get the hang of it after doing it a couple times.

• Once he gets the point of it, and he knows what to do, he’ll never leave you unsatisfied.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

• At the start, he would want any positions where you are taking the lead, since he would be inexperienced the first time.

• Those positions would most likely be cowgirl at the start, where you would be able to get on top of him and start riding him.

• And when he’s on top, he’ll take any position that’ll make him fully in control, where he can manhandle you while he pounds away into you, and where you can’t squirm away from him.

• He’s pretty much open almost all the time to experiment different positions, he may be a little hesitant if it’s something he isn’t used to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

• He’s never silly during sex, and I don’t think he will ever be goofy, and if he actually is it’s pretty rare

• He’s not joking around about it because he wants to focus on his pleasure, and very importantly your own, and he wouldn’t be able to at least be a little bit silly because of how good you make him feel everytime.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

• In my opinion, I don’t think he’s that well trimmed at all, but he doesn’t let it get wild though so he cuts the hairs every once in a little while.

• And, he also genuinely doesn’t mind what you have down there either, you won’t ever hear him judging you for it at all.

• But, if you ever wanted to tell him to take better care of himself, he’ll definitely listen to you if it makes you feel comfortable enough.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

• 1x is not good at expressing himself with words much, but even though he doesn’t do well with that, he is amazing at being able to show how much he adores you though his actions.

• And sex is one of the ways he’s able to express intimacy with you, be close to you.

• He loves being able to touch skin with you in anyway, it’s like he wants to mold into you to become one, and he’s so cuddly towards you during and after sex.

J = Jealousy, do they get jealous easily?

• 1x is more possessive than jealous per say, he wishes he didn’t get so possessive over you because he knows he can trust you but it’s rooted deeply because of people betraying him, and he’s mostly scared of you leaving/betraying him to (which you would never!).

• He will never share you with anyone else, not in any lifetime.

• When he gets possessive, it’s usually when someone else is stealing your attention, and who he deems as a threat to your relationship. he’ll most likely drag them somewhere without you noticing and killing them off.

• In a result, this usually ends up with him fucking your brains out to the point where you can only whimper and scream his name.

• And he places marks all over your body, just to give people a small reminder of who you belong to. It gives him a huge power boost.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

• 1x is the type of person who really, REALLY enjoys anything that’s rough and hard, where he’s able to pound himself into you wildly that you won’t be able to walk for the next week.

• He LOVES degrading you during sex, but after it’s over he makes sure to comfort you and praise you after, because he does still care about your mental health overall

• He also enjoys being praised, I feel like it really makes him feel more loved, and he’s able to feel safe and not be on guard all the time, being able to let go and enjoy.

• He gets a huge ego boost whenever he’s able to make you cry from overstimulation, begging him to slow down. It makes him feel so good because he can feel like he’s in charge.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

• Usually, he likes to do it in private, like in the bedroom or in the living room… WITH the curtains closed, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear your heavenly noises that come out of you’re mouth, those are only for him.

• But, if it’s in public he would like it if it was semi-public, like doing it in the closet or someone’s bedroom, he gets excited whenever he thinks of the fact that someone may come in on the both of you doing it.

• But in the end, it’s where you and him feel more comfortable doing it after all.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

• For 1x what gets him going is you, just yourself being you, especially if your the one flirting and getting him all riled up.

• He doesn’t have a huge sex drive, but when it comes to you it can be really high, you just have to tease him, just do anything to get him going.

• You can even just wear his clothes and he’d get a hard on, and if your on his lap he can easily manhandle you just where he wants you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• 1x doesn’t have any limits when it comes to you, but to name a few he doesn’t like hurting you in any way, shape or form.

• But, as long as your comfortable he’ll try anything you want as long as you consult with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• He enjoys receiving more than giving… not that he doesn’t wanna give you oral it’s just because he’s not that good at it at the very beginning

• You would have to guide him how to eat you out/or suck you off… And that will take a bit of time and practice.

• But once he gets used to it he’s a champion at it! And he will never stop until your legs are shaking.

• When he is receiving, you make him feel like he’s somewhere dreamy, where he can lose himself in you.

• You are able to make him feel so good, he tugs at your hair as he watched you go down on him, it is truly a beautiful sight before his eyes to see you on your knees for him.

• He may thrust into your throat after a little bit if he’s getting frustrated, he can’t help it when your giving him head!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

• In my opinion, he’s really fast and rough, he’s able to get his frustrations out on you, and the man genuinely needs some relief from all the problems he’s carrying.

• But, if he’s feeling up to it he’ll go slow, enough to rile you up and beg him to go faster.

• It’s not just for your own enjoyment but his as well, focusing on you is just part of the process.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• If it’s really urgent, as in like you riled him up to much, then yes, he will do a quickie with you even though he doesn’t really like them much.

• He likes taking his time with you at home, not where your in a rush, so quickies will only happen if it’s urgent for the both of you.

• And if it’s in public, he’s gonna have to find a private or semi-private area for you and him. To get off quickly, he does not need to be caught by anyone.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

• 1x for sure likes trying out new things that’s no lie.

• And yet again, he will do anything that your comfortable with so the experience is good for the both of you.

• When you try new things with him to experiment, it makes him feel happy inside to know that you trust him and your safe with him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

• He doesn’t have a super high sex drive, so it’ll usually take him at least 2-3 rounds for him to be done, he gets overstimulated fast if the rounds go for more than his limit.

• And during these rounds, he lasts a little longer than most to finish, as he seems like the type of person to enjoy dragging it out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

• Not before you came into the picture, if he had to get off he would just use his hand, he never owned any toys.

• But, if you decide to get some toys for yourself, including for him he would really mind, but toys do not make him feel good, you make him feel good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

• 1x is more of the tease than you are. He enjoys to see you get riled up and turn into a mess in front of him.

• Hearing you beg for him has such an intense turn on for him.

• He loves to tease you where his fingers brush over your underwear where you need him most but he won’t give you exactly what you want.

• Seeing your body squirm and trying to get him to where you exactly need him makes him chuckle a little and thinks it is the most cutest thing ever.

• Generally, he just adores teasing you, he loves your reactions.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• He’s not exactly the loudest person per say, but he has the volume in him.

• He knows exactly how you react whenever he groans or grunts in your ear.

• But the better ones is where your able to get him to moan or whimper.

• And usually, he’s not too quiet he never shuts up ever, even if it’s not during sex he’s just a huge talker and loves to hear himself talk.

• He has a list of pet names for you, and knows how you react to each one of them, he uses them to dirty talk in your ear just to see you blush.

• 1x loves hearing you, your moans and whimpers are always pushing him to the edge of his end.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

• 1x is surprisingly very easy to get noises out of him, you just have to please him really good, or tease him and your able to get noises you thought you would most likely never hear in your lifetime, and you’ll be able to get him submissive for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• 1x is definitely bigger than average down there

• He has more girth than length though, but he’s still big and long.

• You’ll also be able to point out some veins whenever his sick is hard, he definitely has big dick energy.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

• Again, his sex drive is not that high, but since he has a list of penh up emotions like frustration that’s where his sex drive goes through the roof.

• And he’s able to let go because he’s with you and your able to make him feel like his life is not difficult and not all things are truly bad.

• 1x will always be yearning for his partner on any way, even if it’s just though cuddles, he’s secretly a simp and a fool for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• If your in his or your own bed it’s always very tempting for you both to fall asleep, especially for 1x since he’s the person who usually just sleeps after sex.

• If you guys had a longer session you’d both be too exhausted to do any aftercare until you both gotten your sleep

• 1x loves the cuddles after sex, being in your arms is so comforting after everything, and he loves hearing sweet words being whispered into his ear from you.

• And he thinks to himself that he has the most precious thing ever (you), and he’s able to be happy again.