#every sound is an indication of a part moving into place

[choctalksalot]

i think mechanical calculators might be some of the most beautiful things ever

[ridingthatd]

𝐒✘𝐗 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄

boss! sukuna, employe! nanami, bodyguard! toji...

what happens when the boss of the company you work in, his right hand employee and his dear bodyguard all desire you?

+18, nsfw, heavy smut, my work is really kinky, three cocks, anal, squirting, cumdump, public sex, nipple play, sex toys (ball gag, vibrator), heavy fingering, heavy spit kink, riding, humping, filthy desires, masturbation, heavy rough sex, a little bit of pet play.

a cumdumpster, a pet play, a sex toy, a hole... that was what you wanted to be, that was what you didn't mind being. you weren't ashamed of it, and you'll never be.

your disgusting desires, your dripping needy pussy, your hunger for their fat delicious cocks. your empty holes needed to be filled, teared by their cocks at any time, at any place.

the feeling of sex was something that you wouldn't trade for billions. the feeling of being boiled alive, the heatness of your skin against their heated skin, the feeling of their sweat dripping from their boiled body to yours as they slam their leaking fat cock into your tight warm pussy. the feeling of their wet tongue sloppily twirling around yours, the feeling of having their warm spit mixed with yours as they suck your tongue in their mouth. the feeling of your perky nipples rubbing against their hard nipples each time they thrust inside your wet cunt, the feeling of your abused, bruised clit brushing against their abdomen each time their sensitive red tip hit your womb, the sound of wet, sloppy smacks filling the room, the sound of the wetness your pussy is gushing out around their cock, dripping down the bed sheets as you make a mess, the feeling of their tongue peaking out to lick the salty tears that was spilling past your eyes, their tongue trailing down leaving a wet trail till they reach your sensitive nipples, immediately wrapping their mouth on it, suckling like a baby in need of milk.

the heated heavy breath, groans, moans fanning against your ear. but what was the best part you may ask? it was when their thick thighs start shaking, trembling, indicating they were close. when they can't control their moans, head burried into your neck their hips going faster and faster, sloppier and sloppier till they slam one last time, curses slip past their red, spit coated lips before they connect your mouth into a wet kiss, their fat cock twitch, throb before you feel a warm liquid squirting inside of your womb, shooting inside of you loads of warm cum as their cock swollen up. as soon as they clam down, breaking off the kiss to stare at the string of spit that was connecting your lips hazily.

but that wasn't enough. that was only a small definition of sex, that was only a small part of your filthiness. that was only the introduction.

you knew better than that, didn't you? you knew better than fucking three man that worked at your company, didn't you? but your needy pussy didn't know better. having three thick cocks ready to breed you, fill your holes with warm cum wasn't something that you could resist?

red messy hair, white unbutton blouse giving you a peak of a tattooed chest, veins and tattood forearms peaking through rolled up cuffes, spread thick thighs under suit pants. pierced eyes watching your every move. how is this man your boss? sukuna ryomen.

"on the floor" his husky firm voice echo through his office. you immediately drop on the floor, on all fours. he leans back his chair, legs man spread as he adjust his huge hard on that was resting on his thigh. his eyes drink you in as he takes in a puff of his cigarette before blowing it out. he free his other hand from his pocket and twirl his finger asking you silently to twirl around.

you listen to what he wants, still on all fours you turn around, your work skirt was hiked up revealing your bare wet pussy and red dildo that was shoved up your pussy he let's out a hiss as he stares at the way your wetness was gushing around the dildo, coating with your juice. from the corner of your eyes, you can see him gripping his fat cock and tugging harshly through his pant.

"crawl" he growls out, lust already filling his voice. you do as he says, swaying your hips seductively as you crawl your way to him, sukuna never broke eye contact with you as he frees his cock. you whimper once you see the way it springs, his red tip leaking with precum as he squeeze it hard with his hand.

once you're close enough that your heated breath is fanning against his fat cock, sukuna groan out. "spit". you clench your thighs as you suck all the saliva in your mouth, collecting it before you open your mouth and spit out directly on his sensitive clit. staring at the string of spit landing on his tip before he harshly huffs and start stroking his cock against your face.

you whine staring hungrily at the way he's beating his leaking cock as your pussy start throbbing around the dildo, needing some fraction. sukuna slowly lean back again and spread his long legs, before he slips his leather shoes under your pussy. your eyes roll back at his next filthy words.

"squirt on my leg you fucking slut" you don't hesitate once you start grinding against his shoe, the feeling of the cold leather against your clit was to good, to good. sukuna groans as he stare at the way your wetness immediately start coating his shoes, dripping down the office floor. you scream into the ceiling once sukuna start bouncing his leg up into your pussy.

"cum! cum! cum! you fucking whore" sukuna growls leaning close to you as his cock start shooting robs of cum directly on your face. your whole body shake as you feel his warm seeds hitting your face, you whine before a hot stream gush out of you, dripping into his shoes.

but that was only the start wasn't it?

styled blonde hair, manly long nose, huge biceps peaking through fitted blouse. a perfect employee wasn't he? nanami kento.

you snap out of your nap as you started to feel something hot, twitching against your lips, the taste of familiar saltiness hitting your taste buds followed by groans and heavy breathing. you slowly open your eyes just to see your employee.

nanami kento, with his thick cock out, and pretty red tip on your lips, leaking as he stroke it against your mouth. his usual styled hair was messy against his forehead as sweat slip past. you can tell he was close by how his whole body was flushed. he clearly didn't notice you were awake yet, to lost in his own pleasure, his eyes rolled back as he sloppily stroke his red tip against your lips.

you decided to tease him by slowly trailing your tongue against his clit causing him to groan out before snapping his eyes to you, jaw clenched before he can say anything you immediately shove his whole cock down your throat, locking it in. nanami harshly grab you by your hair, fisting it, hitting the back of your throat. as you gag around him, tears already slipping past your eyes from how big he was.

nanami groan one last time before he shoots his seeds inside your throat. you make sure to swallow every single drop. you smirk at him cheekily but soon enough it was turned into a gasp as nanami bend you over the desk. rolling up your skirt and slapping your plumpy ass hard.

you whine, nanami hard rough hands, and it stings so bad with each slap but you couldn't help the way wetness starting gushing out of you causing nanami to tsk.

"tsk you like that you fucking slut yea?" he harshly breath out next to your ear before slapping your ass two times in a row. you were sobbing at this point, wanting nothing more than for it to stop and not stop at the same time. nanami kneels down next to your ass before he dives in.

you immediately moan out, pushing your ass into him, his tongue was restless as it moves from your ass to your clit, licking every inch of you, not stopping till you're squirting on his face.

was it enough or one more wouldn't hurt right?

muscles covered every inch of him, a sexy scar on the left side of his mouth, black suit on. a bodyguard like him? toji fushiguro.

the black tinted car was shaking, creaking, toji didn't have any mercy on your poor little pussy. holding your perky ass cheeks between his large hands, as he slams you up and down his fat cock. not caring that your screams were loud enough to be heard by the entire neighbor.

your pussy was clenching hard around his cock, enveloping him each time he shoves his fat cock in. your wetness coated his dick, dripping down his balls. your screams were loud, even after he shoved a gag ball inside your mouth, your drool was coating it, you looked so fucked out of it.

"good girl, good fucking girl" toji darkly speak out as stare at the way your wetness is spurting all over his cock, hitting the leather car seat. your breath hitch as you see someone moving outside the car, leaning against the window as they smoke their cigarette.

but that doesn't stop toji from slamming your tits into the tinted windows, directly where the guy was leaning. his large hand muffling your moans. as his cock thrust inside of you.

the feeling of your hard, sensitive nipples brushing against the cold window- the same window the guy was leaning on, having no clue of what's happening inside of the car. having no clue that you were being fucked.

it all seems to overwhelm you as your hips shudder and arch, squirting directly on the window. "yes! give it to me, give it to me!". toji whispers harshly in your ear. dragging your orgasm by pinching your clit between his fingers.

toji eyes roll back his skull as he feels the way your wetness was filling his car, from his car seats to his window, to the way it drenched his pants. he slam you against him one last time before locking you in. cumming inside of your abused little pussy, gently shushing you as you whine from how sensitive you were.

was it enough yet? having secret affairs with the three of them. or maybe you were greedy enough to want three of their cocks at the same time.

[lymtw]

"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.

A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.

"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.

"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.

"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.

You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.

You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.

"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.

"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.

"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.

"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.

"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.

"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."

Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.

"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."

Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.

Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.

"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.

"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.

"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."

He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.

"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.

Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.

When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.

"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.

"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.

"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.

"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.

Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.

Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.

Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.

He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.

"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"

Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.

"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"

"Okay."

His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.

"Love you, ma."

"Love you, too."

With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...

"Hi, Toji."

"Hi, baby."

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]

est. release date: 10th September

warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️

[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!

masterlist

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 

“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

[erzva]

his favorite ways to make you cum

a/n: ok i’ve realized that you can actually just insert any character of your liking while reading this bc it’s not specific to the character i had in mind..

eating you out

his favorite sexual activity for sure. not only does he love giving you head and seeing you feel good because of him but it’s relaxing to him. when he’s tired or sad he’ll always crawl in between your legs and start kissing and licking and nibbling on your stomach around your bellybutton and your thighs, coating them in love bites.

it’s also extremely arousing to him. he loves hearing all the noises you make, and them getting louder and messier and more embarrassing (as you claim) the closer you get to your orgasm. he can’t help but grind his hips into the mattress, moaning into your pussy, the added vibrations making you groan.

he is always so focused on the task and gets lost in your big pussy lips lapping and sucking at them and your puffy clit as if it’s his favorite hobby (it is). his arms are usually always both snaked around your lower half to keep you in place and so he has easier access and can shove his tongue as deep into your cunt as possible. except for if he’s fingering you additionally to licking your clit ofc. then his right hand will be buried deep in your pussy, desperately grazing your g-spot while sucking on your clit until you start rutting your hips against his face and your grip on his hair becomes tighter. oh how he loves it when you tug on his hair while you’re chanting his name when you’re cumming..

handjobs

he likes them almost as much as you do. he especially loves how you go about asking for one though. he loves it when you sit in his lap, crossing your legs behind his back and hugging him tight for a few minutes, with your head buried in his neck, kissing it and sucking light bruises into his skin before your kisses and sucks move up to his ear and earlobe. and then his jawline. until your kisses finally reach his lips and he’s too impatient to wait for you any longer so he just immediately licks into your mouth making both of you moan at the feeling of each others soft tongues. you keep moaning and trying to keep up with his aggressive licks but your mind wasn’t ready for it yet so you had to pull back. he chuckled. he knew what question was about to escape your lips. you stayed close to him and started kissing your way back to his neck and ear, nuzzling into him. “can you give me a handjob?” you’d ask sucking on the skin below his ear. you couldn’t see but he was smirking. he chuckled lightly. as if he could ever deny you that.

he picked you up in one swift motion and walked to the bedroom with you throwing you on the bed as soon as you reached it. oh how he loved the look on your face every time he does this. you looked about ready to jump him.

“pants off, pretty.” he would demand before positioning himself behind you and starting to kiss your neck and jawline. he would start slow and grope you aggressively while sucking bruises into your skin. the foreplay was part of why you loved handjobs so much. you just couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body.

by the time he would finally bring his hand down to your clit, after whining and silently begging him to touch you already, you were already wet from the foddling and kissing.

and all the praise and dirty talk that was possible in this position was heavenly. his lips were practically sealed to your ear constantly praising you and grunting and moaning in your ear because he knows how much you love it and how much it gets you off.

he loved holding you down with his other arm whenever you’d start chanting his name and wiggling, indicating that you were close.

mating press

missionary is the basic sex position for a reason. it was just so easy to handle someone this way. the look on your face and the sounds you made every time he’d put your legs up on his shoulder and start drilling into you was so arousing to him.

he didn’t care about how “messy and chaotic and embarrassing” you thought you sounded. that’s part of what was so arousing. the fact that he’s making you feel so good you don’t know what to say or what sound to make and don’t even try to tame yourself and instead just let the sounds escape your lips was so hot to him, he wants to cum right then and there.

dickriding

oh how he loved making you cum when you were the one on top. he loved bottoming or subbing and seeing you take control of him and the situation. but he also likes messing with you and he would do anything to hear all the messy embarrassing sounds you make when he drills up into you from below.

the way your eyes would roll back and your moans would become more animalistic at the sudden fast pace was one of his favorite sights to see.

and when it became too much for you and you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore so you’d collapse on top of him and put your arms around him, he would smirk to himself. being able to hold you tight while ramming up into you as fast as possible to make both of you cum while hearing you moan and breathe into his ear was too arousing.

this was originally supposed to be about jason todd (no one’s surprised) but i can also see: hal jordan, dick grayson, roy harper, wally west, toji, nanami, gojo, sae, aiku, karasu, otoya, katakuri, sanji, zoro, shanks, semi eita, atsumu, iwaizumi, tartaglia/childe, itto, laxus dreyar, sting eucliffe, gray, jellal, gajeel, natsu

…

[missrosiesworld]

Moonlit Confessions

Here are some headcanons for Von Lycaon's first kiss with his crush, along with a short story:

Height Difference: Given Von Lycaon's towering height of 6'6", his first kiss involves a noticeable height difference from his crush. He might have to lean down or gently lift his crush to bring them closer to his level. This gesture would be both protective and intimate, emphasizing his careful nature.

Gentle Approach: Despite his intimidating appearance, Von Lycaon would approach the kiss with surprising gentleness. He would likely start by caressing his crush's cheek or tucking a strand of hair behind their ear, ensuring they are comfortable and receptive before moving closer.

Careful Control: Von Lycaon is aware of his strength and size, so he would be incredibly careful and controlled, ensuring that his crush feels safe and cherished. His hands would likely rest lightly on their waist or shoulders, providing a comforting presence without overwhelming them.

Tender and Slow: The kiss would begin softly, almost hesitant, as Von Lycaon carefully gauges his crush's response. He would start with a gentle brush of his lips against theirs, savoring the moment and ensuring that every movement is tender and considerate.

Building Intensity: As his confidence grows and his crush reciprocates, the kiss would deepen. Von Lycaon would cup the back of their head or cradle their face, his touch firm yet gentle. The kiss would become more passionate but never rushed, as he takes his time exploring this new, intimate connection.

Subtle Canine Traits: In moments of heightened emotion, his canine traits might subtly manifest. His ears might twitch, or there might be a slight wag of his tail if he's particularly happy. This adds a unique, endearing element to the experience.

Emotional Vulnerability: For Von Lycaon, the first kiss is not just a physical act but an emotional commitment. He would feel vulnerable, sharing a part of himself that he usually keeps guarded. His eye, usually calm and composed, might show a flicker of nervousness or intense emotion.

Aftermath: Post-kiss, Von Lycaon would hold his crush close, keeping his arms wrapped securely around them, resting his forehead against theirs, savoring the shared intimacy. His tail, usually a subtle indicator of his feelings, would continue to wag slightly, reflecting his happiness.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the quiet city. Von Lycaon walked beside his crush, the streets mostly deserted at this hour. The soft sound of their footsteps was the only thing breaking the serene silence. Despite his usual calm demeanor, Lycaon felt a flutter of nervousness in his chest. The moment felt different tonight—special, charged with an unspoken anticipation.

As they walked, he found himself sneaking glances at them, admiring the way the moonlight played off their features. There was something enchanting about them, something that always drew him in. His height usually made him feel imposing, but around them, he felt a strange sense of vulnerability—a desire to be gentle and kind.

They reached a quiet park, the perfect place for a moment of respite. Lycaon, ever the gentleman, offered his arm to his crush, guiding them to a nearby bench. They sat down, the cool night air enveloping them. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city.

Lycaon turned to face his crush, his heart racing beneath his calm exterior. "The moon is beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice steady yet carrying a depth of emotion. His crush looked up, nodding in agreement, their eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moon.

Encouraged by the quiet intimacy of the moment, Lycaon spoke again, his voice gentle. "There's something I've been wanting to share with you," he began, his tone both earnest and tender. He reached out, gently cupping their cheek, his thumb tracing a soft line along their skin. "You've captured my heart in a way I never thought possible," he confessed, his gaze meeting theirs with vulnerability and affection.

His crush's eyes softened, a gentle smile forming on their lips. "You mean that?" they asked, their voice tinged with hope and warmth.

Lycaon nodded, his expression sincere. "Yes, more than anything. Being with you feels... right, like everything has fallen into place," he continued, his hand tenderly cradling their cheek. "I've come to cherish every moment we share, and I find myself wanting more—more time, more memories, more of you."

His crush leaned into his touch, their smile widening. "I feel the same," they admitted, their voice soft and sincere. "I've been hoping you felt this way too."

A relieved smile spread across Lycaon's face, his eye lighting up with joy. "I'm glad," he whispered, leaning in closer. "I promise to always cherish and protect you, to make sure you know just how much you mean to me."

As the words left his lips, the air around them seemed to hum with a newfound closeness. Leaning down, he brought his face closer to theirs, his tall frame bending over protectively. He hesitated for a moment, his breath mingling with theirs, as if seeking silent permission. When his crush's eyes fluttered shut, Lycaon took it as the answer he needed.

Gently, he closed the remaining distance, his lips meeting his crush's in a tender, tentative kiss. The initial touch was soft and hesitant, yet filled with all the emotions he'd been holding back. The warmth of their lips and the softness of their skin sent a shiver down his spine. His hand moved to cradle the back of their head, his fingers gently threading through their hair, while his other arm wrapped securely around their waist, pulling them closer to him.

As the kiss deepened, Lycaon's movements became more confident and assured. The gentle kiss transformed into something more passionate and intense. His lips pressed more firmly against theirs, exploring and savoring the moment. The tenderness was still there, but now it was accompanied by a fervent desire, a longing that had been kept at bay for too long. His breaths became deeper, his heart racing as the kiss continued.

His grip tightened slightly, not in a constricting way, but as if he wanted to hold them closer, never letting go. The gentle tangling of fingers in their hair became a caress, his hand moving down to gently cradle their jaw. The kiss was no longer just a meeting of lips; it was an expression of deep affection and connection. His tail, a clear indicator of his emotions, wagged more visibly, betraying the joy and contentment he felt in that moment.

Finally, they pulled away, both breathless and with their foreheads resting together. Lycaon felt a profound warmth spread through him, a sense of contentment and rightness that he had never experienced before. A rare, genuine smile spread across his face, reaching his eye. As if to further express his affection, his tail gently wrapped around his crush, holding them close and conveying a protective, loving embrace.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and affection. "For trusting me... and for this."

His crush smiled back, their eyes twinkling with shared joy. "Thank you, Lycaon," they whispered, their voice just as soft. "For everything."

A deep sense of contentment and serenity washed over Lycaon as they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms under the moonlit sky. In this moment, he knew their relationship had begun a new chapter, filled with promise and closeness. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly at peace, content in the knowledge that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

[slut4thebroken]

Nymphomania

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | You been trying for months to get Dr. Crane to give in. After a bold attempt, he finally breaks.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, age gap, doctor/patient relationship?, mentions of murder, reader is so horny and we’re here for it, degradation, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, rough oral sex, slight dubcon? but only because he’s “reluctant”, filthy nasty disgusting oral sex😭

Words | 2.6 k

Notes | He’s about 38 in this fyi. Also I already have an idea for a second part but it’s not even started so don’t expect it any time soon lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Dr. Crane has been your psychiatrist for several months now. Ever since your first session, you’ve been completely smitten and you were never shy about showing it. At first he was uncomfortable with your forwardness and flirty behavior, but he quickly learned to just ignore it… and most of the time he’s successful. But every once in a while you’ll say something particularly bold and he’ll reprimand you with a blush. 

Today was no different. You were brought to the usual room where your sessions take place and you waited eagerly for him to arrive. When the door finally opened and he walked in, you perked up, a giddy smile making its way on your face. 

“How are you today?” He asked as he set down his things, then sat across from you. 

“Better now that you’re here.” You put your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your hand, staring up at him through your lashes. “How are you?”

“Busy. Shall we get started?” The dismissal was not lost on you… but you’ve never been one to cooperate. 

“You sound stressed, doctor. Maybe I can help you relax?” You purred, slowly extending your leg to brush your foot over his shin, sliding it up. He pushed your foot back down, then moved his chair back a little as he cleared his throat.

“Behave.” He warned, making your lips curl up into a smirk.

“For you? Always.” He scoffed at that, but he can’t blame you for not behaving. Not when it’s not even your fault. “It’s not my fault I act like this.” You said defensively.

“No?”  

“I wouldn’t be so needy if you’d just help me out every once in a while.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of taking care of that yourself.” 

“I don’t like doing it myself, it’s not the same. Need you, doctor.” Your gaze shifted to his lips before settling on his hands, examining the veins leading up into his arms, covered by his suit. You wished the table wasn’t here so you could see all of him though. 

“Need your cock.” You suddenly looked at his eyes again and the only indication you got that he was affected by your words was the slight bob of his throat as he swallowed. “Please, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, leaning forward a little, wishing your top was lower to help you out. 

“If you need to be fucked so bad, you shouldn’t have killed four people and gotten yourself stuck in here.” He said, sounding almost bored. 

“I didn’t kill people, I killed men.” You said, now much more annoyed, but quickly brought your tone back to something sweeter. “And I guess I just thought at least one hot guy in here would be willing to fuck me. I didn’t plan on having my options completely limited to you.” 

“How are they limited?” 

“Because I don’t want anyone else! I just want you. And I can tell you feel the same, you’re just too obsessed with your job to act on it.” You frowned. He took in a deep breath through his nose and looked away from you as he thought. 

“Come here.” He suddenly said, leaning forward while beckoning you to do the same. Once you were leaned over the table slightly, you let your eyes fall to his lips as you waited for his next move. “My job isn't the issue. It’s the fact that you’re a criminally insane little girl.” He said lowly, making you press your thighs together as you squirmed. 

“I'm 20.” You defended weakly. 

“Exactly. I was already a legal adult when you were born.” 

“So? That just makes it hotter.” You said quietly, then bit your lip, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He didn’t respond and you tried not to shrink under his gaze. After another moment you sighed and leaned back, his eyes following every movement carefully. When you pushed your chair back, he stiffened. 

“What are you doing?” You slid down the chair to the floor, then crawled under the table. He started moving his chair back so you grabbed the legs to keep it in place. Because of his attempt to get away from you, you now had enough room to get out from under the table, but the space between it and the chair was small enough that your shoulders pressed against his spread legs. 

“Please? I need your cock, Dr. Crane.” You pouted, placing your hands on his thighs and snaking them up. “I’ve been thinking about it every day for months. Please let me have a taste.” You did your best to hide your smirk as you stared up at him through your lashes. When you suddenly leaned forward and started mouthing at his cock through his clothing, he roughly grabbed your hair, making you whine and work even harder. 

“Insatiable little slut.” He spat, wrenching your head back uncomfortably so that you were looking up at him again. Since you couldn’t use your mouth, you placed a hand on his bulge, making his grip on your hair tighten. You couldn’t help the open-mouthed smile that crept up on your face at the rough treatment. That seemed to only make him angrier though. 

“Hands behind your back.” He ordered. You smirked and glanced down at your hand on his bulge, debating if you wanted to be a brat or not. When his grip got impossibly tighter, you released him and placed your hands behind yourself. You had a feeling that he would end up giving you what you want. 

“You go a few months without it and turn into a cock hungry whore,” You moaned and squeezed your thighs together, looking up at him with a glint in your eyes. “Like a fucking bitch in heat.” He spat. 

“Please, Dr. Crane.” You said through a moan. “Please, I need it.” Your gaze shifted between his face and his crotch hungrily. 

“Stop talking.” He hissed. 

“If you want me to shut up, you know what to do.” You smirked at him and he clenched his jaw, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He seemed to be debating what to do— torn between not wanting to give you what you want and finally shutting you up. 

“Take it out.” He ordered. You don’t think your hands have ever moved faster. They immediately shot out and started working on his belt, then the button, and finally the zipper. When his cock was finally free, you let out a low moan and tried to lean forward, but he stopped you with the hand in your hair. “Hands behind your back.” You whined but obeyed and he pulled you closer, using his free hand to fist his cock. You could smell him now and you knew that he could feel your panting breaths with how close you were. 

“Please.” You mewled, shuffling closer. 

“Move your hands and we’re done. Understand?” He warned. You didn’t know if he meant done right now, or done for good and you’ll be assigned to someone else, but both options sounded terrible. 

“Yes, doctor.” You stared up at him through your lashes with wide, innocent eyes, silently pleading him to give you what you want. 

He relented and pulled your head down as your mouth fell open, eagerly anticipating what you’ve been craving since you first arrived here. When you finally wrapped your lips around the tip, you moaned loudly at the taste and let your eyes flutter shut. You flicked your tongue over it, lapping up what little precum there was, then tried to swallow him down deeper. He stopped you with the hand in your hair and you let out a long, needy whine. 

“Don’t be a brat.” You blushed at the tone he used to scold you, feeling like a child. You obeyed with a pout and mouthed at the tip of his cock, clasping your hands together so they wouldn’t subconsciously move from your back. 

He started pushing you down, then back up, agonizingly slow. When you looked up at him again, he cursed under his breath and started moving you a little faster. You hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue against the underside of his cock, trying hard to impress him and earn his praise. But all you got was a soft sigh. 

You whined, wanting to pull off so you could beg for more. He just shushed you and kept up the slow pace of shallow thrusts. 

“Please.” You tried to say around him, the word coming out garbled and almost incoherent. 

“What, this isn’t enough for you?” He suddenly pulled you off and you panted as you caught your breath. 

“Fuck my throat.” You gasped out, cheeks heating up. “Please.” You added so it didn’t seem like a demand. He pushed you back down, resuming the original pace. 

“I’m surprised it took murder for them to put you in here. I would’ve thought it’d be nymphomania.” You moaned at the subtle degradation and squeezed your thighs together, aching to reach a hand between your legs. He finally sped up, but kept his thrusts shallow, barely even brushing the back of your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder, trying to make it even better. “That’s it… Put that mouth to good use for once.” You didn’t let the insult deter you. 

He suddenly forced you all the way down and you choked, not expecting it. Holding your hair tight enough to make your head throb, he kept you there, his cock buried so deep that your nose was against his pelvis. With the lack of air and the pressure on your gag reflex, your eyes were watering and you looked up at him with a muffled whimper, making him curse under his breath. 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry? I thought you wanted this?” He sneered, making you whine. He pulled you back until just the tip was in your mouth and let you take in a deep breath before shoving you back down. Rather than holding you there, he started bobbing your head up and down his cock, breaching your throat barrier each time. You couldn’t help the way you gagged and choked, but you didn’t dare try to pull away. 

“I thought a whore like yourself would’ve been good at this.” He said, disappointed. Your brows furrowed, not able to express your frown any other way. When he removed his hands, your expression turned into one of confusion. “Go ahead, nympho. Prove that you deserve to suck my cock.” You moaned around him, but quickly stepped up to the challenge. 

You were moving much slower than he was, choking each time you forced yourself all the way down, but determined not to give up. When you looked up at him, he almost seemed bored as he watched you. You pulled off and he raised his brows in a silent question. 

“Can I please use my hands?” You asked quietly, voice already hoarse. 

“No.” With a pout, you shuffled closer and leaned down, this time aiming for his balls. His spit soaked cock rested on your face, furthering your humiliation and arousal. You licked at them before sucking one into your mouth, making him let out a pleased sigh. You worked it over in your mouth for a few seconds before moving to the other one to do the same. 

You licked up along the underside of his cock with a small smirk— he was practically pulsing because of how hard he was. When you reached the tip, you licked up the precum with a low moan, then took him back in your mouth, immediately going all the way down. 

He let you control the pace for a few more thrusts before grabbing your hair again and speeding up. When he let out a low groan, you quickly looked up to see his face, finding him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes half lidded and he stared down at you. He forced you all the way down, then held you there, and you whimpered around him, trying to control your gag reflex. 

“Lick my balls.” You furrowed your brows, still looking up at him, and he all but rolled his eyes. “Fucking lick them.” He spat, jerking your head down even though your lips were already at the base. You stuck your tongue out and tried to obey, making him groan. 

“There you go…” He placed both hands on the sides of your head for a better grip, then started roughly pulling you up and down. You choked and sputtered, but his grip was unmoving. “Fuck— Keep this up and I might just let this happen again.” He said through a breath, making your stomach flutter at the thought. 

He continued using your mouth practically as a fleshlight, ignoring your gagging and muffled sounds, focusing solely on his orgasm. After what felt like minutes but was probably just seconds, you felt your body start to try and pull away from the brutal attack on your throat. Even though your mind didn’t want you to, your body was panicking. His moans grew louder and you begged your body to endure just a little longer, needing him to come down your throat. 

“Stop fucking fighting it, bitch. You wanted this, so take it.” He growled, moving you faster and pushing you down harder. Your eyes burned with tears and it wasn’t long before they started falling, making him even more frenzied and desperate. His hips were bucking into you now as he forced your head up and down his cock, barely pulling you back more than halfway. 

After only a few more thrusts, he forced you all the way down with a low groan, using both hands to keep you there with your nose buried in his pelvis. His hips would occasionally buck into you as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned at the feeling of his come hitting your throat, but wished you could taste him too. Once his cock stopped twitching and his sounds died down, he finally loosened his grip enough to let you pull back and you coughed almost violently as he panted. 

“Satisfied?” He asked through a breath, looking down at you. 

“For now.” You smirked, but batted your eyes at him innocently. He released your hair and you frowned, but didn’t protest any further. 

“Clean it.” He ordered and you eagerly dove back in to lick at his softening cock. You were more just enjoying tasting him rather than cleaning up all of your spit… which he seemed to notice. “I said, clean it.” You looked up at him, but when you were met with a warning glare, you just huffed and did as he said, licking his cock and balls to clean him as much as possible. “Put it back now.” Despite the fact that you wanted nothing more than to do the opposite, you tucked his softening cock back in his pants and fastened them before buckling his belt. 

“Good.” Your heart practically stopped at the sudden praise. “Sit back down.” You frowned, but obeyed, waiting for the next command. “Trust that if you touch yourself before our next session, I will know, and I will have someone else take over as your psychiatrist. Do you understand?” Your frown deepened as a needy whine left you and he raised his brows in response, challenging you, making you huff. 

“Yes..” You muttered, looking at the table as you slouched in your chair, sulking. The next few days are going to be absolute torture. 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @faebirdie @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @bluujaiwrites (didn’t let me tag ->) @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @idkdudsworld

[eureka-its-zico]

Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 2

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, frenemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut

Words: 6k+

A/N: For this chapter, I played with the idea of having Zoro’s POV. It felt necessary for the story progression that I had in mind. This chapter was a tad fun to write, and I hope that translated well into the story. Originally it was going to be longer, but I realized I wanted to save the dinner to go with all the action to end the Episode 3-4 story arc. Thank you guys so much for the love you’ve given this little story. I hope it continues to be one you enjoy 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

Previous Next

This place is a maze. 

That thought rang true with every hallway you entered and the endless number of rooms within. With every step you took inside Kaya’s large estate, those words kept echoing through your head. How many guest suites could one house possibly hold? But also, why would you ever need so many?

You’d been wandering the halls for what felt like an eternity. Your head poked into each room after a brief knock. Yes, a brief knock before plunging head-first into someone’s private space wasn’t much of a warning but at least you were knocking. 

And all of this just to find Zoro who may or may not help you expose whatever metaphorical skeletons this butler had stuffed in his metaphorical closet. Or an actual closet. The possibilities felt endless. 

You weren’t even sure how you were going to explain to him exactly why you were searching for him without sounding like a creep. You would just have to cross that bridge when you came to it. 

You were about to give up trying to locate him because you were pretty sure you’d just passed that same exact clock for the second time in a row. You let out a raspberry as you placed your hands on your hips. Was it plausible you were lost? Inside a ginormous house like this? Yes, it sure as shit was. Maybe you should’ve been dropping breadcrumbs to find your way back to your own room when this was over. 

Rolling your tongue around your mouth, you looked down to your right and realized there were only two more doors left. What could it hurt just to look? You were already down here anyway. 

With a shrug, you moved towards the second to last door near the end of the hall. You weren’t in a rush to check what was behind either one, but you were also not leaving any stone unturned and all that. If your earlier dozen room checks were any indication of what to expect, you were willing to bet that you were going to find absolutely nothing waiting for you. The joy of joys. 

You were just a few feet from the door when you heard the lock click. The sound caused you to stop dead center, facing the door like an absolutely terrified rabbit caught in the headlights. What were the chances that whoever opened that door was going to be Zoro? And what were the chances that he would be willing to listen to what you had to say? 

The possibility of your questions being answered ebbed the panic in your chest down just a tad. Enough that when the door finally opened and Zoro was, in fact, standing before you, you silently thanked the universe for your suddenly award-winning luck. 

That was until you realized he was just standing there. In a robe. A silk robe with his swords slung over his shoulder and because of his current hold on his swords, said robe in question was flashing a peak of his chest. You immediately wanted to take back your previous thank you letter to the universe. 

This should be illegal. 

The worst part? You were pretty positive from the way Zoro was staring at you - his eyes taking you in from top to bottom lord HELP you - he did not seem as impressed with you as you were of him. Why in the hell couldn’t you say a word? Yes, he was attractive - stupidly so - but he was also just another guy. 

A guy in a thin silk robe and hair still damp from a bath. 

You watched as Zoro’s body began to relax, or relax as much as someone like him could. It was when he let out a sigh as if your very presence was keeping him from something important, that you felt your feet remove themselves from their spot in the carpet and spring you forward. 

There was a split second when Zoro’s eyes registered your movement. His eyebrows raised up in surprise as the almond shape of his eyes widened just a tad before he braced for whatever you were about to do. Zoro was planning on an attack and his body was primed to force you back. Instead of violence, he was met with your hands shoving him back inside his room with your foot kicking the door swiftly closed behind you. 

Once you knew you were both securely back inside the room, you stopped shoving him. You waited for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room before you looked around. It would be embarrassing if you’d done this and someone else - Nami or Luffy or anyone else really - had been inside with him. The only thing you noticed, however, was his previous clothes strewn across the room. 

When your eyes ventured back to Zoro you found his earlier shock replaced by what you could only guess was his usual stonewall expression. 

“Look,” he began the timber of his voice causing you to jump. “You seem nice and all, if not a little disturbed, but I’m not interested.” 

You looked up at him with your confusion knitting your brow together. 

“Not interested?”

You weren’t sure why it took you that long to realize what he meant, but it was dawning on you at warp speed and your confusion was quickly replaced with horror. 

“Oh my god! No, no! I was not trying to like, do anything to you like that.”

The disbelief in his eyes told you plainly he didn’t believe you, and by the tick in his jaw something was bothering him about your statement. 

Shit! He thinks I’m a perv 

You wanted to crawl under the nearest rock and die there. You followed his eyes as they trailed down his chest to find your hands were very much still attached to him, practically groping him. 

“Then why are your hands still on my chest?”

A small squeak of surprise left you as you dropped your hands down to your sides and shook them like it would be enough to get rid of the feeling of cupping his very pronounced…chest. You took a step back from him in hopes that giving him space would save the entire interaction. 

“Sorry about all the ugh…touching,” you mumbled. “But I did come here to speak to you about something.” 

“This is going to be good. Is it to convince me you weren’t trying to grope me?”

“God, you aren’t going to let it go, are you?” 

Closing your eyes you took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. When you finished, you opened your eyes again and gave him the best smile you could muster. 

“Okay, let’s start this again. I,” you motioned towards yourself, “have come to ask you if you noticed anything weird.” 

Zoro cocked an eyebrow at you. His arms moved to lock his arms across his chest somehow exposing the peek of flesh from the robe even more. 

“You mean weirder than right now?”

You purse your lips together tightly as you try to exhale all the annoyance from gathering in your body. 

“Let’s just move on from this moment, ok,” you began. “I came to talk to you about the butler.”

Without warning, Zoro rolled his eyes and dropped his arms from his chest. His swords clanging against his leg reminding you that he wasn’t making any move to set them down anytime soon. 

“Here we go again about the butler,” he groaned, and the very sound shouldn’t have sounded as enticing as it did.

Focus! 

“Oh, save it!” You snapped. “I saw you, okay? The way you looked at Klahadore before you followed your friends inside. You looked at him like you recognized him. Like you’d seen him before somewhere.” 

Zoro regarded you coolly. The hardness that had disappeared while he’d teased you earlier slid back into place until he was as unreadable as stone. 

“I’ve never seen that butler before in my entire life.” 

“Why are you lying?” 

You couldn’t keep the exasperation from your voice or how your desperation was starting to creep back in. Could you have been wrong about Zoro this whole time? Did you just see what you wanted to see?

No. You know what you saw and you were not going to be called crazy. You took a step towards him and weren’t surprised when he didn’t move back. Instead, he tilted his chin, his full pouty lips still very much pouting, as his eyes carefully watched you. 

“You know, that I know, that you looked at that guy and went, ‘hmph, something’s not right there’.” 

Yeah, that felt like a solid argument. 

You waited under Zoro’s cool gaze for him to reply. For him to show any sign of anything, really. He was literally the most unmoving person you’d ever meet, and you were starting to wonder if he was even real. The shitty part about waiting in silence, besides the uneasy commentary your brain was beginning to make, was the smell of the vanilla and sandalwood that wafted off him in mini waves that assaulted your senses. 

You were so intently transfixed by trying to match his unblinking gaze that when he finally moved his head down to be eye level with you, you’d almost jumped out of your skin. 

“Is everything okay with you? Do you suffer from any brain damage?” 

You wish you could say you handled the next few seconds with grace and poise. Things that all upstanding future doctors did when faced with adversity. However, that was most definitely not you, and you weren’t able to keep an exacerbated yell of frustration from cairning past your lips. 

“Oh! You are literally the most infuriating man I have ever met!”

“And you are the most perverted woman I have ever met,” Zoro shot back, this time taking a step towards you. 

If he was trying to intimidate you, he should’ve tried back when you weren’t ready to tear him limb from limb. 

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Who just pushes a semi-naked man into a room so they can grope him?”

“I wasn’t trying to grope you! I was trying to interrogate you for information!”

God, that sounded so much worse. 

“That sounds a lot worse, actually.”

Of course, Zoro would state the obvious, and was he - was he smirking? Your eyes rapidly blinked as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing because as fast as you’d noticed it, that devilish smirk had disappeared. Now Zoro once again looked as serious as before. You began to move back towards the door with your hands up in mock surrender. 

“You know what - fine! If you don’t want to help me, that’s your choice, but you know I’m right. And I’m going to prove that something is wrong here with or without your help.”

You shot one last look in his direction before turning on your heel and giving him your back. You were at the door, your hand on the doorknob when Zoro surprised you with a question of his own. 

“Why ask me to help you?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you expected to see that smug smirk on his face or to get the cold shoulder. What you found instead were eyes so intent on you - waiting for your response - that it caused your lungs to collapse. A million replies played over through your mind, but only one of them mattered. 

“Because out of everyone here, I thought you would believe me the most.” 

It didn’t matter if it was the answer he’d been looking for or the one you thought would win him over. You meant what you said and you hoped he’d felt your admission genuinely. If Usopp didn’t want to believe you, and if Zoro, who you still believed knew or at least felt something was off here, wasn’t going to be able to help you, you would just have to do it yourself. 

Did you know what that entailed? Hell no, but Naan didn’t raise a quitter, and you weren’t going to roll over and just give up just because it was hard. Not when someone’s very life depended on you. 

——————

After your incredible failure of finding a co-conspirator to help you on your quest for answers failed with flying colors, you weren’t exactly sure what to do with yourself. Usopp no doubt must have snuck in by now to see Kaya - sans your “gift” - and the others were probably in the ridiculous closet looking for dinner attire. While you could’ve gone just to socialize with everyone else, Kaya had sent a dress to your room. 

Sham had looked absolutely miserable dropping it off and that was a joy all on its own. 

You considered heading to the closet just to see Luffy again. Luffy radiated optimism like sunshine; at the moment, that sort of unyielding optimism was the mood booster you needed. 

Unfortunately, you knew Zoro must have made his way there by now and you weren’t necessarily ready to face him again. The disappointment was clinging to you and that’s what you hated the most. You didn’t understand why you’d seemingly put all your eggs inside the Zoro basket. Just because he’d looked at Klahadore weird didn't mean he’d sensed something off. 

Shit, Klahadore was weird and deserved every side-eye glance he got. 

All it meant for you was going back to the drawing board for a new plan. One that was going to be able to get you next to Kaya. At least long enough so you could perform some kind of assessment. 

You rounded the corner to what you hoped was the hallway your room was down. The earlier thought you’d had about getting lost turned into an accurate one. You’d spent just as much time trying to get back to your room to get ready for dinner as you had searching for Zoro. 

Zoro.

Even just thinking about him made your jaw clench with fresh irritation. What was more infuriating than your most recent conversation was the fact you could still feel the strength of him in the hollows of your palms. The sharpness of his jaw and the high sculpt of his cheeks- 

No! Absolutely not, you chastised yourself. 

It was maddening how little he believed you - mocked you - and yet, here you were acting like some lovestruck teenager. He wasn’t that handsome. 

You were lost in your thoughts to the point you weren’t aware of your body's attempt to warn you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and a sickening feeling began to rot in your gut and made sure all the imaginary - very imaginary - butterflies disappeared. 

The goosebumps that rose along your exposed skin informed you that the grand hallway, filled with all its riches and fine cherry woods was as ice cold as the dead. Has it always been this cold and you just never noticed? Or the eerie silence that made the manor feel more haunted than alive. 

Your feet involuntarily came to a halt in the middle of the hall. You couldn’t explain the panic that was building in your chest, but it felt like you were being watched. Your heart rate sped up until you could practically feel it thundering against your ribs. 

“You are being silly,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s just an old house.” 

“Old houses do have their quirks, don’t they?”

You wish you could say that when Klahadore spoke from behind you, you’d reacted with grace. With dignity. What actually happened was you screamed sharp enough it could raise the dead. 

The whiplash you gave yourself as you turned to face him was dizzying. You wanted to kill the fear that widened your eyes and pressed your brow into your hairline. Your mouth was painfully dry as you took in his presence and the absolute shit-eating grin he wore. 

He enjoyed seeing you afraid. 

“Oh dear, Doc, did I give you a fright?”

Klahadore gently tipped the frame of his glasses with the edge of his palm. You wanted to smack them off his smug face. 

“What do you want, Klahadore?”

You struggled to regain your composure. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you afraid. It was what he wanted after all and didn’t take much to notice. He was already trying to close the few inches your retreat had given you. 

“I was simply wondering why you were wandering around the manor. You’ve been showing highly suspicious behavior ever since you and your friends arrived.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on him and as you held your head high. 

“Have you been following me?”

“Oh, come now, don't be silly. To have someone followed means you’re worried about what they’ll find, and you? You are the last thing I would be worried about.” 

Klahadore dropped his head down until he was eye level with you, but somehow used his size to remain imposing. A thinly veiled threat to remind you exactly what he thought of you; nothing. 

The first time you’d ever received an insult from Klahadore had been just like this. Alone and away from anywhere Kaya could hear him. He’d made sure that Usopp and you were together just so he wouldn’t have to repeat the insult twice. 

“I know you two must feel exceedingly special having Miss Kaya ask for you to come keep her company, but I’m afraid this will be the last time you ever come over unannounced or not. We can’t allow her image to be tarnished from being seen with unwanted children.” “Unwanted?” Usopp had been so confused - he knew he was wanted; wanted by Kaya and you. Klahadore saw in that confusion an opportunity to place doubt in his mind and completely tear him apart.  “Yes - unwanted. So unwanted that your father never returned, and your mother chose death as a final way to be rid of you.” “You son of a bitch!” You’d snarled and snapped. You were only kids.  The world had taught you early on about hardships and fairness; how the world and the people in it could lack kindness. But Naan always made you look for the good in the world, and in the people who sometimes allowed the ugliness of others to warp them into someone they weren’t.  It was a concept child you never understood. Teenage you were barely beginning to grasp it, but when Klahadore spoke those words so full of hate and venom at your best friend: there weren’t enough flames left in hell to cover up your rage.

The memory of that day left a black mark on your soul and you find it replaying at the most inconvenient of times. A harsh reminder of the first time you’d ever considered murder as a means of healing. The world would have to be a better place if someone like Klahadore wasn’t in it. Right? 

Naan, as always, talked you down from doing something rash. From allowing someone like Klahadore to have the last laugh and ruin all the plans you had for your life. 

But Naan wasn’t here to talk you off that ledge or to remind you who she knew you were. Your rage shouldn’t define you. Looking at Klahadore’s retreating back, you weren’t all too sure if it wasn’t you because if he ever showed up needing any form of medical attention, you weren’t so sure if he’d leave on his own two feet. 

A body bag would suit him nicely. 

You watched him until he completely disappeared leaving you alone once more inside the hallway. It felt weird to take those first steps back towards your room. To go inside and see the dress Kaya had sent to your room and know you were going to put it on and share dinner with that man standing in the same room. 

There had to be a way to show everyone here exactly who Klahadore was, and you would spend the whole dinner trying to do just that. 

———————

He’d been searching for a drink since his interaction with you back in his room. Zoro wanted to call you crazy - hell you acted crazy enough, but you’d done something he hadn’t expected. 

You’d surprised him.

He didn’t want to admit it then but he did get a weird vibe from the butler. The minute his eyes landed on Klahadore it had sparked a nagging feeling of a memory he just couldn’t quite place. 

And you’d noticed. 

After you’d left his room, he couldn’t shake the conversation you’d forced him to be a part of. Teasing you had been easy. He’d expected you to be a bleeding heart, but as you’d turned to leave, stomping your feet and spitting back words that stung for just a second, it had been Zoro’s turn to notice something about you. 

It was the fire of your determination that piqued his interest.  

While Zoro wasn’t sure why you held such a stick up your ass exactly about the butler, he was positive you had a reason. Besides the fact he couldn’t seem to pull up a clear memory of why the same butler piqued his own interest, and that was beginning to piss him off. 

What was even more annoying was the fact you’d brought it up enough that he’d asked Nami and Luffy if the butler seemed familiar. He didn’t know why he’d asked. If it had been more for him or for you. 

That pissed him off more. 

You seemed to be good at that. Pissing him off and getting under his skin. 

When he came downstairs, Zoro expected you to be there already. A quick glance around the room informed him you weren’t there, but a row of flutes filled with what he hoped was alcohol most certainly was. 

He carefully set down his strap of swords and moved closer to the drinks. No one else made a move towards them and, for a split second, Zoro was worried maybe the flutes were nonalcoholic. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around the delicate crystal and quickly brought it to his lips. 

The smell of the liquor hit him first and his muscles relaxed instantaneously. 

God. This was exactly what he needed. 

“Zoro! You gotta try this!”

Zoro didn’t bother looking because he’d seen the appetizers being served when he came down the stairs. He wasn’t impressed. Plus, if he was going to make it through this evening, he was going to need way more booze than what was inside these little Crystal flutes. 

“I got all I need right here,” he replied and brought the glass up to his lips. 

The first sip erased all the tension that had been binding up his muscles. The next pull from the glass relaxed him completely, and he downed what was left in one giant gulp. He placed the now-empty flute back down on the tray and swiftly grabbed another. 

Zoro was vaguely aware of all the chatting going on around him. The sound of Usopp and Luffy sharing stories and Nami doing whatever it was Nami did during fancy dinner parties. He meant what he said - he did have everything he needed to make it through this dinner inside these glasses. At least, that’s what he thought until the sound of a heel echoing off the step brought his attention to the top of the stairs. 

He was sure the new flute with his latest drink was at his lips. Zoro inhaled the sharp scent of liqueur with every breath he took. He just couldn’t seem to make his elbow bend enough to drop it from his face. 

You were making your way down the staircase, oblivious to the world around you as you came down with a hand carefully placed on the railing. 

The dress you wore was covered in article flowers; all of their small bold colors were bright against the backdrop of black chiffon. The top of the dress left your shoulders exposed, and the style you’d chosen to wear your hair, with beads of pearls intricately placed within each strand, made you seem ethereal. 

You looked like moonlight inside a garden; soft and wild and for the first time Zoro forgot that breathing was important. 

Once you reached the last step, your eyes finally moved up from the safety of your feet. Zoro was vaguely aware the rim of the glass was still resting on his bottom lip, and that he’d yet to take a drink. He felt frozen - helpless - until your eyes found his rooted frame - helplessly waiting - and the smile that curved your lips brightened up the room. 

It was in this second that he realized he was fucked, and the annoyance of that realization was enough for him to finally upend the glass in one large gulp. 

——————

Zoro had looked at you for less than a millisecond before he’d upended the contents of his glass in one large gulp. His disinterest was evident enough throughout his entire body. With one last glance in your direction, he turned back to the waiting tray of glasses. 

Well, that wasn’t the reaction you’d expected. 

The disappointment scraped raw across your chest as you watched Zoro take up another glass. His gaze was steadfast at the wall as he downed whatever was inside. What felt more disappointing was the fact you’d cared. 

For all intents and purposes, Zoro was an asshole. So, it begged the ever-present question: Why did it bother you so much? 

Yes, you’d painstakingly gotten ready around the dress Kaya left inside your suite. Was it your usual taste? You weren’t all that sure, to be honest. It’s not like you’d ever been invited to any fancy dinner parties before. You weren’t sure if this was the proper form of dress or if you’d gone overboard with your hair. 

At least Nami had a feather inside her hair and it looked as if she’d given her blood-orange hair some curls. She looked absolutely gorgeous and you made it your mission to tell her.

“Wow, Doc you look-“ Usopp began. 

You turned beaming towards your friend as you waited for him to acknowledge your hard work. Maybe at least Usopp, of all people, would say something nice. 

“Different.”

You could practically feel your smile deflate at the edges. 

“What did you put in your hair?” Luffy asked around a mouthful of meat. 

“Oh yeah, I was wondering what looked different. It’s the hair,” Usopp confirmed with Luffy. 

The both of them smiled and nodded at one another as if they just solved world hunger. Your tongue rolled around your cheek as you debated on what to say. Maybe you’d expected to much out of a bunch of men. 

“They’re pearls,” you huffed. 

“That’s silly,” Luffy chuckled. “Why would you ever put pearls in your hair?”

“It’s to look nice.”

“I never knew hair needed accessories,” Usopp offered before taking a bit of his appetizer.

“Nami put a feather in her hair,” Luffy offered before taking another bite. “Maybe you guys can talk about putting random stuff in your hair.” 

There was no way this conversation could be real, and yet…

Luffy was still wearing his genuine smile while he and Usopp continued to enjoy the appetizers Sham passed around. This evening was turning out to be the last time you’d ever consider wearing anything like this again. What was even worse was that out of the three of them, Zoro was the only one properly dressed. 

While Usopp went with his usual no shirt underneath his jacket, Luffy was wearing just a petty coat and miraculously found dress slacks that didn’t even reach his ankle. They looked like their usual selves, just dressed in black. 

But Zoro…

No! Absolutely not.

“I’ll go look for Nami so we can discuss…putting things in our hair.”

“That’s great! I’m sure it will make her happy. She seemed frustrated earlier when she asked for help.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you mumbled, as you turned to find Nami speaking to Merry. 

Well, it looked like that was going to be a bust too. Man, she really did look very pretty, though. You were considering what your options were. You weren’t comfortable just injecting yourself into whatever conversation Nami and Merry were having, especially not when she was rubbing his arm like that. 

Luckily for you, the sound of Klahadore announcing Kaya’s entrance kept you from having to go with your final option, which was to get a drink. Next to Zoro. 

You all collectively turned to watch as Klahadore helped Kaya make her way down the stairs. You couldn’t help but smile up at her and her current choice of attire. While she’d made you look like a garden, you could only assume she was the sunshine that hovered above it. The only problem you had with the golden silk material was that it somehow made her sickly pale skin appear paler. 

She must have picked the color in hopes it wouldn’t do that, but all it did was raise the alarm bells in the back of your mind. You’d allowed a pretty dress and a fancy meal to cloud the real reason you’d come in the first place. Instead of being a doctor, you were playing dress-up. 

You were still scolding yourself when Kaya finally made it to the end of the staircase. Her smile was bright and happier than it had been in a long time, as she regarded Nami and the dress she’d chosen. It hadn’t even registered that any of the clothes you currently were wearing belonged to her deceased parents. You made a mental note to make sure to take extra special care not to ruin the dress with any droplets of food. 

“Oh, Doc, I’m so glad I picked this,” Kaya breathed. “You look absolutely magical.” 

You couldn’t help but look down at the dress again. It was an incredibly delicate dress. A work of art to be worn on the body. Maybe that was why you felt like such an imposter wearing it. 

When you looked back at her, you tried to give Kaya a convincing smile. One you could even make yourself believe you felt worthy to have it on. 

“Oh, Kaya you are too nice,” you replied, only for her to shoot you down with a wave of her hand. 

“Nonsense. Usopp is always telling me about all the good you do for everyone. It’s time you let yourself be appreciated.”

Your earlier response to Kaya’s welcoming smile was one of your own, but at the mention of your supposed good deeds, you felt it tighten into a grimace. 

It means nothing if I can’t even help you.

Up close, her color wasn’t pale - it was ashen. The whites of her eyes were devoured with a yellowish tint and - 

Like the parasite he was, Klahadore was there pulling Kaya gently by her elbow to lead her back to the conversation between herself and Merry. Your eyes followed him as he made sure to plant her a few feet in front of you; her back excluding you from following to join. 

Once he made sure she was safely away from you, Klahadore stationed himself a few feet away next to the penguin pillar at the base of the stairs. He thought he was sneaky and that he had stopped your trained eyes from being able to do a quick evaluation.

Unlucky for Klahadore you were quicker than he thought. 

You were getting ready to head over to him when you caught Zoro walking back over to the tray. He was doing his usual of placing down an empty glass only to grab a fresh one, except this time he was talking. To Klahadore. 

What a fucking liar!

You couldn’t think straight as you watched the exchange. The way Klahadore overplayed the flabbergasted victim. You didn’t have to be close to them to know what Zoro was asking him, because just like you’d suspected, he did seem familiar to Zoro. 

It felt like you could breathe fire, you were so pissed. 

At some point, Klahadore ended the conversation by interjecting himself into someone else’s conversation. You didn’t care what it was. They could’ve been discussing flying pigs for all you cared. Your eyes were still honed in on Zoro who regarded you for a split second before he sat back down in the parlor’s middle seat. 

You started making your way towards him when Klahadore called out it was time to eat. You suddenly weren’t hungry. 

Zoro must have sensed you coming for him because in one swift move, he was out of the seat and standing. The strap that held his katana’s back over his shoulder as he followed Sham behind the double doors.

“You son of a-“

“Doc!” Usopp whisper-shouted as he nervously took your hand in his. “Sit next to me. Please.” 

You were still seeing metaphorical red. Your brain firing rapidly on only one main thought and that was to get a hold of Zoro and throttle him. 

It wasn’t Usopp’s fault that Zoro was a dick, and he looked genuinely terrified. Stuffing your current bad mood as far down as you could muster (you were about to see said moss-haired reason for your fowl mood in t-minus two seconds), you planted on a smile and gently took Usopp’s hand. 

“What kind of wingman would I be if I didn’t?”

“Oh, thank god,” he laughed. 

The both of you followed closely behind Merry and the others as you were all escorted inside the dining room. Merry quickly took his seat at the end of the table, and you noticed rather quickly Zoro had claimed the seat closest to the door. 

Without thinking, you took the seat beside him and motioned for Usopp to take the last one. The one directly beside Kaya. For a moment, Usopp looked at you wide-eyed and uncertain. You did your best to make him comfortable. 

“You got this, Usopp,” you whispered. “Don’t overthink it.”

His response came in a small nod that did little to erase the terror that shined in his eyes. You gave his arm a light squeeze for reassurance before you straightened up in the chair. Glancing over, you watched as Zoro poured what looked like a freshly opened bottle of wine into a glass. 

You waited patiently for him to finish and when he went to set the bottle down you made your move. With a slight lean to your right, you swiped your hand out to grab a hold of the glass. Zoro caught the movement too late, but you now had his full attention. His nostrils flaring the only indication that he was irritated by your sudden drink stealing. 

Good. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He questioned. 

His dark eyes never left your face as he waited for you to answer. 

“Being petty.”

To bring the point home, you tilted the glass in his direction in a silent salute. You made sure he watched as you brought it to your lips and took a sip of the blood-red wine within. 

Zoro’s jaw ticked in irritation as you gave him a devious smirk, and when Sham came by Zoro waved her over. 

“I need a new glass.”

Now the smile that graced your lips was genuine and you made sure Zoro was aware of it. It was time to have a little fun of your own and that included hogging as much of his alcohol as humanly possible. 

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

As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

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

Taglist:@thegreatesttttttttt @katiemrty @sorasolarium @ponyboys-sunsets @flowersgirl02 @spilled-coffee-cup @instabull @charleslec-airlines @dixonsbugaboo @amanda08319 @moony-artemis @iloveautumn1 @yoheyyosup @ghostyycat7 @csmbrainrot

If I missed tagging anyone please let me know!

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[emjiroki]

☆Part 2☆

Original Post Part 1

Warnings: biting/marking, breeding mentions, CNC, yuuji fluff at the end

"I- Y-Yuuji" you stammered, shivering against the hard body behind you as he dragged his pointed nails along your side, moving up to grope your breast over your shirt.

"No no no little bunny, you're in my hands now," he purred, gathering your hands behind your back, "address me correctly".

"S-Sukuna" you whimpered, a tremor running up your spine as he sucked up a dark bruise against your throat.

"That's right" he said with a chuckle, "and it's the only name you'll know once I'm done with you".

You gasped as he turned you to press face first into the couch, your cheek against the cushion as he mounted up behind you, sliding his thickness in deep with a fluid thrust of his hips. You squealed as he bottomed out, the crown of his cock kissing your cervix. The couch creaked and groaned with every savage movement, your moans muffled into the cushions.

"This couch is too fucking small" Sukuna growled, swiftly pulling out and gathering you up in his arms to carry you to your bedroom, throwing you down onto the mattress before shouldering between your legs.

Your face burned as his deep wine colored eyes gazed between your thighs, his face lowering to bump his nose against your clit and drag his tongue along your slit, a quiet groan rumbling in his chest.

"Now I see why you're in this kids every thought" he said with a wicked grin, "this fat pussy is too sweet not to think about".

Your face burned deeper at his roundabout compliment, a soft gasping whine breaking from your lips as he suckled around your clit for only a moment before he grasped your thighs and lifted until your ankles were by your ears.

The hunger in his eyes had your heart pounding, looking more like he was going to devour you whole. He tapped his cock down against your clit, his mouth moving down to your calf and sinking in his teeth. When he didn't get the reaction, he wanted he slapped his hand against your ass, leaving a red mark in his wake.

"Please," you cried out, your pleading tone seemingly pleasing him.

"That's right, beg for me,Feed me your desire," he growled, "I want to relish in every sound you make, every squeal and every moan."

Without another word, he was sinking in deep, your breath catching as he pummeled in past the soft spot Yuuji usually hits. You watched him bite back a deep sound, his fangs tugging at his bottom lip as your walls convulsed around him. You could feel every ridge and vein along his shaft as fucked into you slow, seeming to savor the pleasure scorching through him. Your brain felt fuzzy at the sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking him in, mewls and moans spilling from your drooling lips nearly overshadowing the creaking of the headboard as Sukuna wrapped a strong hand around it.

The splintering of the wood had your eyes snapping open, Sukuna's hips never stilling as he threw the piece of the headboard he had torn off onto the floor with a growl.

"Cheap mortal crap, my bed was made from stone and furs" he said, replacing his hands on your thighs to keep you spread, "a much better place to breed you full of my spawn, but I suppose this will make do".

"Sukuna fuck" you whined, right on the edge of orgasm as your legs clamped down against his shoulders.

"If you're going to cum, to do it, I won't give permission twice".

Your eyes rolled back as your walls squeezed him, a debauched high-pitched moan flooding the room as you creamed around him. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his warmness fill your belly, a savage bite to the plush of your thighs and a stifled groan being the only indicator that he reached his peak. You breathed a soft sigh, relief rushing through you at the thought of Yuuji coming back.

"Oh, missing your boy toy already?" Sukuna crooned, condescension dripping from his dark tone as he let your legs down only to flip you over onto your stomach, caging you in with his muscular thighs as he rutted his still throbbing cock against your ass, "the first pussy I've had in a thousand years isn't getting away so easily little bunny".

He threaded his fingers through your hair and tugged as he leaned in close, "we're done when I say we're done".

Exhaustion was over taking you, your eyelids have as your pussy throbbed and your legs cramped, Sukuna's cum leaking out onto the sheets between your legs when you suddenly felt Yuuji's warm hands touching you.

"You okay?" He asked quietly as he pressed soft kisses against your shoulder.

"Yeah" you croaked, your voice hoarse.

"Want me to start the shower?" He asked, tracing the bite mark on your shoulder. You nodded, giving him a kiss before he left the bed.

The warm spray of the shower seemed to bring you back to life, along with Yuuji kissing and sucking against your skin tenderly.

"I really don't know what happened, I guess I just lost control of him for a minute" Yuuji said, his eyes wracked with guilt.

"Really love, it's fine," you promised for the tenth time, even though you flinched when he touched the bruises. It had been seven pm when the switch happened and now it was four am, to say you were tired was an understatement.

"The way she was screaming for me I think she enjoyed herself" Sukuna's voice spoke from Yuuji's hand, "get used to it, this won't be the last time".

Yuuji leaned over and pumped a squirt of body wash into the curses open mouth, Sukuna splattering for a moment until he disappeared.

"Pain in my ass" Yuuji muttered, helping you wash your hair. You laugh together for a moment, until an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. You really hoped you wouldn't have to give Yuuji a positive pregnancy test in a few months.

[sanakimohara]

[ YOU ] PT. 2 B. C.

pairing: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + SMUT + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + CHOKING + SLIGHT EXHIBITIONISM

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror

a/n: thinking of putting this one on AO3…also did you guys watch their AMAs performance last night?

“Here, baby. It’s your favorite, just like you wanted.”

Chan’s smile stretched wider as he set the items on the table, his eyes full of obsessive warmth as he watched your every move….

Every expression you made.

Every ghost of a shiver that ran up your spine.

Three weeks into being safe and sound with him, you still hadn’t learned to trust him completely:

To completely twist yourself free from the gut-wrenching fear of him.

What would a man like Christopher Chan Bahng do if you made one wrong move, said one nasty word, or refused one of his heartfelt offerings?

You hadn't the courage to get an answer to the question.

Not yet, anyway.

Sitting there in a kitchen you’d only just learned existed down the hall from the room he’d kept you for the first week and a half felt oddly freeing.

It was one of the few places Chan let you roam around in his part-time abode -and only if he was present when you did so.

“There are rules,” he’d told you the first night, having coaxed you to listen to what he had to say if he agreed to unbind you from the bed and against your better judgment and the prying instinct to make a run for the unlocked door behind him…

You sat idly as he eased into a one-sided conversation.

“You have rules…here…with me,” Chan clarified, smiling small, but his voice still holding twinges of directness. “There’s not a lot, and I know you’ll be able to remember them. Responsible as you are…”

He trailed off, eyes softening on you as admiration clouded them.

That singular stare numbed your nerves in the moment. A blatant indication to you of how long and thoroughly he’d been watching you.

He'd been cataloging your life and all its highs and lows.

Chan knew you were responsible because he’d seen it from afar, observing how dedicated you were to keeping the shop in order when your boss wouldn’t. How you made it a point to check your surroundings every time you ventured from your apartment alone.

Now you realize you hadn't been as vigilant or responsible as you thought.

Chan intended to fix that.

Your heartbeat dropped its pace, slowing to a lowered thrum in your ears as you watched him watch you.

Expectations and boundaries spilled from his lips like all those fleeting compliments he’d given you in the record store.

“You have a beautiful smile. Adorable even…”

“Never leave this room without my permission. Everything you’ll ever need is already here, and if you don’t have it, I’ll get it for you. Just ask…”

“I like your taste in music. It’s refreshing to get someone else’s opinions…”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you. Always. So I know you’re listening and understand what I’m telling you.”

“Sorry, this may be a little forward of me, but would you like to hang out sometime?”

“You will take care of yourself. Shower, get ready, get dressed, and eat every meal I give you. No exceptions. No excuses, princess..”

“It was nice to meet you, pretty girl. I’ll give you a call later! Oh, and thanks for the help..”

“I’m doing this for your good, Y/n. All you have to do is listen…don’t think… listen to me.”

Rules.

Sweet nothings.

They mixed when Chan spoke, blending as you swallowed the urge to sob aloud while he eyed you from the edge of the bed. “Tell me you understand what I’ve said, sweetheart.” The blonde tilted his head, voice warm but expression void of lenient compassion for the pain etched across yours.

Your tongue felt drier at the moment, your head spinning, and your blood cold as you refused to speak to him.

Chan’s eyes narrowed an inch; his slight change in expression made you withdraw.

“I said tell me you understand.”

Your lips parted before you could pull your subconsciousness from the grips of instinctual survival. “Y-yes I under…under..stand…” you croaked quietly, curling in on yourself when he let his lips settle into a minuscule smirk.

“Good girl… learning so fast already…”

A knot of pure hatred mixed with an unfamiliar emotion twisted in your chest upon hearing him casually utter such a demeaning phrase.

It still rang in your head every time he was near you. That same unnamed gut feeling rooted itself in your core with each day you remained entangled in his version of contentment.

Trapping you in his sick and twisted version of a happy home.

A happy life with him and only him.

Chan sat next to you at the kitchen island, twisting his barstool to face yours. He pushed the familiar brown bag and plastic cup to you, inching closer.

“…. Just for you, like I promised.”

You didn’t move, frozen in place by practiced stubbornness and conflicted with your thoughts as you stared at the treat you’d been craving for what felt like half a lifetime…

But if you were doing your math right, counted the hours he was away, and constructed them into the time he spent with you, then that meant…

It’d been three Sundays since he’d taken you from that brick alleyway.

Three…long…tense…suffocating, and confusing …weeks.

The air under your nose wafted with the crisp tinge of warm pastry puff and strawberry filling. Your eyes settled on a dollop of whipped cream melting into the drink.

Your mouth watered, having been stripped of anything overly sweet for weeks, all thanks to Chan’s intentional and well-balanced meals for you.

What he ate, you ate.

The same went for almost anything else you’d experienced in his care.

What he laid out for you to wear, you wore.

What he watched, you watched.

What he said, you obeyed.

Weeks of falling into a nearly sunless state of compliance, unsure of how to feel about it, and even more affairs of becoming entirely comfortable with it sent your mind into a leveled frenzy.

You were beginning to feel odd…

Longing to hear Chan’s keys jingle from down the hall, and his footsteps echoing closer to the locked door of your room, rather than fearing the sounds.

You looked forward to seeing him after hours of being kept alone in a room with only a stack of books to read, a pad of paper and pen, and a strange amount of various stuffed animals to keep you company. Once or twice, you caught yourself beginning to smile when you saw him slip into your room after unlocking it. He greeted you every time, inviting you out of the room for two hours until dinner -which promptly occurred at 10 PM every night.

A twisted sense of security wrestled itself into your psyche. Your heart switched between racing in fear and slowing from unconscious infatuation. Your breaths came easier, and your body relaxed a tad more in his presence.

It was…

Alarming.

So much so that the moment Chan stopped mid-step on his way out of your room for the night before to ask you a question, your sensible train of thought nearly reignited.

Unfortunately, that trickle of sense fizzled back into a fog of conscious paralysis, hearing his voice envelop the room.

“Anything in particular you want tomorrow?”

You swallow hard, slipping underneath the heavy duvet before answering him quietly.

“What..? What do you mean?..”

That is a fair question.

Chan didn't blame you for asking it and was unsure whether to proceed with his offer.

But the pure, unguarded curiosity in your eyes and expression made him continue. “Is there anything special you’d like to have?..” he clarified.

You still said nothing.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before showing a tender smile as if he’d become embarrassed of having to explain his sudden thoughtfulness.

“Think of it like a gift from me to you, princess. Something special since you’ve been so …”

He paused, eyes lowering from your face for a moment, momentarily distant as they settled on the cover pulled over your knees and to your chest.

The straps of the cream-colored chiffon night dress he’d picked out for you that night lowered from your shoulder as you shifted, waiting to hear the rest of his reasoning, and Chan reluctantly drew his gaze back up to your face.

“Good for me…” he clarified under a heavy breath, glad the door partially hid the hardening in his crotch from your wandering eyes.

“I can have..anything?” You pried for options, having narrowed the most apparent forms of escape or attempt at communication with the outside world out of the realm of possibilities.

Chan was an intelligent man.

A highly intuitive one at that.

A man who paid attention to the most minor details. Obvious or not.

Getting anything past him felt like running into a cement wall and hoping it’d eventually vanish and let you pass.

It wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

When you caught his slow nod of approval at your question, you decided that asking a small, harmless question would be a safe decision.

“I want something from the cafe….please…the one I used to. “

“Yeah, no. I remember which one it is, sweetheart….” Chan cut into your response, mind wandering to dangerous places, watching you sink further into the corners and set your doe eyes on him as you did.

It’s sickened him to some degree how hot his blood ran seeing you vulnerable and comfortable all at once in his presence.

There wasn’t a chance in the world he’d be able to keep his hands off you for another week if you kept affecting him this way. Chan purposefully attempted to avoid the feeling, but there was only so much he could do before everything you did affected him.

Called to him…

Begged for him…

God, he wanted to hear you beg for him…

Scream for him…

Chan sucked in a quick breath, head leaning on the doorframe as he shut his eyes and mumbled back to you, “I’ll bring you something from there in the morning. Night, princess..”

And then he was gone again.

You slept a little easier last night, hoping his gesture of intentional goodwill was a sign he was starting to regret his actions. Still, now that hope died in your chest, seeing the pure content on his face as he observed you tentatively reaching for the pastry and latte he'd brought back just for you.

Chan was never going to feel guilty.

Not when everything was perfect between you, especially for him.

The pastry melted on your tongue, warm and sweet but barely easing the weight in your chest, sensing Chan’s gaze on you. Every bite you took was less and less soothing, hardly washed down any more accessible with the few sips of cold caffeine you took between each one, but you refused to give him any more signs of your distress.

If you did, it always seemed to go straight to his head.

Chan fed off of it.

You’d learned that much about him in less than a week.

Despite his constant attempts at heartfelt kindness, your fear of him was his fix.

What a sick bastard…

You swallowed the last bite of the pastry as the thought crossed your mind, crumpling up the parchment it was wrapped in before dropping it into the bag but leaving the half-full cup alone.

“Thank you,” you forced a smile, hints of genuine gratitude coaxing the pleasant expression onto your face, but it was short-lived as Chan shook his head. “Finish all of it,” he instructed, nudging the cup closer to you without glancing at it. “Don’t waste what I give you…”

You stiffen in your seat, “I’m fine. I've had enough, really-“

Your lips immediately pressed shut when he stood, closing in on you until your head lulled back to keep him in your sight. Chan stared down at you, right hand raised to brush across your cheek, and the left picking the latte up from the counter. Every nerve you had spanned to life, chills rising on your skin as he invaded your space and fixed you in place with a void glare.

Chan exhaled slowly, reducing the anger he felt when you refused his demand and replacing it with a controlled ease. “I took time out of my day to get you something special, and I expect you to appreciate it. Open up…” his hand falls to cup your chin, grip tight and promising. You swallow hard, eyes dilating with anxiety as he applies more pressure, progressing until you utter a whine of pain and let your mouth fall slack. “Atta girl…” Chan praises under his breath, caging you in the seat and easing the drink to your parted lips.

Your stomach drops, feeling helpless as he forces you to gulp down the remaining half of the cold caffeinated drink. Your legs twitch and shift between his, nails clawing at the sheer stockings covering your thighs underneath the sweater you wore, and your breaths struggle to remain constant as the liquid pours down your throat and from the corner of your lips.

His hold on your jaw is painful but not as tortuous as the thoughts racing through your mind as you peer up at him through teary eyes.

It hurts, but it feels so…

Why won’t he stop…? Do I want him to…stop?…

You choked as the last drops of the latte drizzled onto your tongue, gasping for air quietly as he released your jaw and tapped your cheek gently. A phantom of pain blooms on your skin, disappearing seconds after the tender slap occurs but snapping you back to reality to hear him speak.

“I need you wide awake for me today. Can’t have you looking too tired when Bin comes over for a visit.”

You stare at him, half dizzy and confused, hearing him mention another’s name.

He hadn’t mentioned his friends, family, or acquaintances before…

Though your throat still burned and your eyes had yet to un-blur completely, you asked, “W-who’s Bin?”…”

Chan smiled, gently kissing your nose since you weren’t in any shape to reel away from him like you had before. Your face warmed from the gesture, your heart fluttering a bit as the distinct feeling of his lips brushing your skin was mildly delightful.

“He's a good friend of mine. Someone I work with often, too. I think you’ll like him a lot.”

Your lips twitched into a timid smile, a mix of relief and desire hanging over your head. “I…I can't wait to meet him. " You shifted around, swiping the back of your right hand across your damp lips to wipe away the coffee left on them and swiftly cover the vague happiness that begged to show itself.

Maybe this ‘Bin’ could be your way out of all of this - a saving grace from the hell you were beginning to settle into.

“Good. Now, get cleaned up. He’ll be here soon.” Chan lifts you from the chair, steadying your drowsy weight against him for a moment before you give him a solemn nod and carefully step past him. An array of ideas starts to cloud your head, gathering traction and precedence over any other thought you have, but they're shattered to pieces when Chan calls out to you from the kitchen.

“Y/n..”

You freeze, hand pressed to the corner of the hallway for support as you peer at him over your shoulder.” Yes?...” you breathe out, uneased by the pleasant smile he flashes you before leaning against the center island. " Don't try anything cute when he's here. Asking for his help won't change a thing.”

“I won’t…”

God fucking damn it-

The sound of another’s voice from down the hall catches your attention, melting into laughter and warm words toward your captor a moment later.

‘Bin’ must be here…

You sniffle at the realization, dabbing the damp white cloth over your mouth several times before rinsing and wringing it out into the bathroom sink. Droplets of caramel coffee swirled down the drain, disappearing like your will to escape began to. Chan’s warning to you was a simple threat—a nicely put one but still a promise of consequences to your preemptive attempts for escape.

A lump settled in your throat as you stared in the mirror above the sink, silently trying to convince your reflection that everything was fine.

That you’d find a way out of this soon.

You wanted to believe the determination written across your features would remain, but it consciously vanished when you quietly stepped out of the bathroom and down the dim hallway. You came to a stop at the hall's edge, peeking from behind it to glimpse at the man Chan seemed to be enjoying a conversation with.

He had black hair, and he was around Chan’s height, too, but a bit more muscled than him. And he sounded pleasant, but by now, you’d learned that assuming a stranger's length of kindness by their words was never a good idea.

With pursed lips and a soft gulp, you shifted to hide behind the corner again, unnerved by the prospect of meeting anyone who took to Chan’s company and afraid of having to endure meeting them yourself without the chance to beg for their help to get away from him.

“Shff..*

Your stockings brush along the floor, catching Chan’s attention and bringing his conversation with Changbin to a sudden halt. He glanced at the corner you hid behind, watching Changbin do the same before saying anything. “Baby, come here. Could you introduce yourself to my friend? Don’t be shy..”

You swallow a groan, peeking around the corner again as if he hadn’t caught your presence already, “H-Hi…” you greet the man sitting across from him in the living room.

Chan shakes his head, eyeing you intently. “Don’t be rude, princess. Come out here and meet him.” Changbin laughs, smiling warmly as he shifts in his seat to see your hidden form better. “I swear I don’t bite:” he joked.

Oh…

He seems harmless, but still...

Your heart jumps with a sense of joy you thought had been snuffed out weeks ago. Warmth floods your cheeks, and seeing him stretch out a hand for you to shake is an added sign of goodwill from him.

“Okay…” you mumble, slipping from the hallway to tentatively shake his hand before repeating your greeting upfront. “Hi.”

Changbin chuckled, his brows raising a bit. “I’m Changbin, and you are? " He seemed genuinely intrigued, glancing between you and Chan before the latter cleared his throat.

“Bin, this is Y/n, the girl I told you about…”

“Oh,” Changbin grinned, holding your hand longer than needed as he stared up at you. “She is cute. No wonder you talk about her so much. " He met your lowered eyes, offering a warm smile you barely returned before retracting his hand from yours. “Wait, how long did you say you’ve been together?”

Chan sighed, shrugging at the question despite knowing its exact answer.

Three weeks, sixteen hours, and forty-three minutes is how long you’d been trapped in his sick fantasy.

He’d been counting every second, and now you were, too.

“Six months next week, Bin.”

“And you've already moved in with him? Must be love at first sight…” Changbin looked between you both, ignoring your aversion to looking at Chan directly or oblivious to the tension between you two.

You didn't answer him, lips pressed shut, and your hands nervously twiddling behind your back. Chan answered for you, rising from his spot on the couch to pat Changbin’s stout shoulder as he came to stand by your side. “Must be. Right, sweetheart?” The skin of your lower back gathers goosebumps, feeling his hand firmly plant itself there, thumb tracing the trial of your spine as he eases you closer to him. Your tongue falls flat in your mouth, your body weak and tense all at once from the weight of his touch. Afraid to use your voice without letting out an unseemly sound, you give a gentle no, eyes fluttering between Changbin and Chan, who smile at your silent agreement.

“Are you always this quiet around strangers?” Changbin chuckles, and you embarrassingly shake your head, pressing against Chan’s side as he speaks for you. “Or maybe you're just really loud,” he retorts, inwardly brimming with pride, feeling your body shift towards his for comfort.

Finally.

You were learning to trust him.

To depend on him.

Changbin rolls his eyes, his mouth ticking into an unaffected smirk. “I'm the right amount loud. Otherwise, your tracks would only get so far.” Chan’s body goes rigid at the teasing jab, startling you when his grip on your lower back shifts to your hip to knead the soft skin. You whine quietly as his fingertips bare down on the muscle. The hold grounds him but unnerved you.

He was upset.

That much you could tell, but Chan didn't let anger cloud his features, shrugging off Changbin’s usual innocent jabs at him, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bin. “

Said man huffs, staring at Chan for a few seconds before returning to you. “Want to join us for a little bit? I know Chan says you like to spend your free time alone doing your own thing, but since you're here-”

“I’d love to!” Your mouth moves before your mind computes a careful response, growing into a sheepish smile as Changbin laughs at your impulsive reaction. Conversely, Chan seems stiffer by the second, not angered but vaguely displeased.

You ignored it, forcing your nerves to settle despite feeling the air around him thicken with masked tension. “So, what were two talking about earlier? From what I heard, it sounded like a fun conversation.” You smile at Changbin, hoping he'll see the desperation hidden in your eyes as you slip away from Chan and hurry to sit beside him on the sofa.

You're too close to him.

He's too close to you.

That's your first strike, and you don't even realize it.

Chan makes no move to point out your blatant mistake, either. His expression slips into a hardened glare as the two of you converse without him. His eyes burn into the side of your head, fixated on every fluctuating reaction you have to Changbin.

The spark of yearning that returns to your pretty eyes as they focus on him.

The gentle nods you give while he speaks.

How you are a bit closer to him when an intriguing topic extends itself.

Every little thing begins to irritate Chan.

You'd been huddled close to him only a minute ago like a trapped mouse, scared of a stranger and seeking his protection...

And now, here you are, eating up anything and everything his Changbin did or said.

Ungrateful.

Disrespectful.

A little liar is what you were.

Chan couldn't look past it, even as the hours ticked by. He joined in the pleasant conversations that dwindled into laughter over several shared take-out dishes, but he refused to give you the benefit of the doubt any longer. Barely tempering his envy of the attention and comfort you shared with Changbin when he'd done everything for you to earn such things for himself.

So ungrateful.

So fucking needy for another man's attention…

Chan counted down the seconds until Changbin’s phone rang half past one in the morning, vibrating on the glass coffee table you sat in front of with him.

“Hold on. Let me get this real quick,” Changbin said, snatching his phone from the table. He offered you a kind and apologetic smile to make up for shortening your moving conversation. “It's okay,” you mouthed, hands raised to wave off his unneeded reasoning as you watched him stand up to take the call in the hallway. Changbin ruffled his free hand through your hair, giving a silent ‘thank you’ on his way out of the room, flashing Chan a cheeky grin as he disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the empty spot next to you, still reeling through ideas of how to gain Changhins help or at least convince him to let you use his phone without Chan knowing…

But the blonde hadn't left you alone or taken his eyes off you and Changbin for a second the entire time he was there. If anything, Chan watched you painfully closer, looming like a shadow in every interaction and a little too good at insulating you had a healthy, willing, and established relationship with him.

Even if that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Nonetheless, Changbin hadn't shown any signs of recognizing the reality of your unwanted arrangement. You had no chance to subtly hint at it to him, aware of Chan’s vigilance even when he wasn't directly involved in the friendly exchanges.

You'd more than once caught him staring you down, arms folded over his chest, and his jaw set into a tight angle. A shiver ran up your spine every time you caught the look in his eyes.

How cold those brown irises turned, filling with deepening jealousy.

If you hadn't felt trapped and endangered before…

You felt that way now.

Your gaze refused to shift from the carport you sat on, hands twiddling in your lap as your heart raced a little faster second by second.

“You think I'm stupid, baby girl?”

You immediately shake your head ‘no’ as he speaks under the distant sound of Changbin’s ongoing phone call.

Chan scoffs, his head ticking once, and bites back with a wry smile. “Hm. So, she's a fucking liar too…”

It's a statement—an observation he's made, and you cannot deny it.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, lodged there as you shake your head again and finally set your eyes on his.

“Chan, please...I’m not-“

“Shut up.”

Silence.

The moment his command hits your burning ears, a cold, heavy, and suffocating silence blankets the room. He lets it settle, holding your doe-eyed stare with a sharp glare. “Come here.”

Your hands freeze, tears welling in your eyes, but you blink them away.

Crying never works on Chan.

Never.

Your head lowers as you shift onto your knees and grip the coffee table's edge to stand up, a tremble catching your fingers as the cold glass amplifies the heat of anxiety taking over you.

“No,” Chan seethes out, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, head resting against his left hand as the right beckons you toward him, familiar veins contracting through them from the subtle gestures he makes.“Crawl.”

You swallow like he's shoved a lead pill down your throat by voicing the command, frozen in thinly veiled hesitancy as he waits for you to follow it.

The last remnants of pride and brimming hope melt away from you, drained out of your body as it shifts back from the edge of the table and onto the floor again. Chan watches you lower down to be on your hands and knees, your soft cheeks dampening with a few stray tears as you crawl towards him with timid caution in every move you make. The heat you feel rises to your face, painting it a solemn red when you settle between his legs. Chan plants his feet, making room for you and quickly locking you in his range.

“Turn around,” he whispers, left index finger making a small circle to emphasize the instruction. Slowly, you shift to face away from him, pleading with an invisible force to ease your panic, unable to see what he will do and anticipate when he’ll do so.

Chan hadn’t raised a hand to you. Not once.

He could be rough, drag, and move you with pointed strength when he felt you needed a firmer guide, but hitting you?

Never.

Him showing any sign of brute physicality towards you?

Never.

You’d begun to realize Chan didn’t need to exert force, always expressing it in his words, expressions, and acts of service rather than using violence.

So, your fear -that swirling and dizzying uncertainty you’d felt for weeks- stemmed from a much deeper and deranged concept your mind had conjured up.

You weren’t afraid of Chan.

No…

You were terrified of just how far and how many demented things you’d be willing to let him do to you…

Even if he’d cornered you into them.

Forced you.

You wanted him to do that on a certain level of consciousness. To give up fighting his insistence on loving you his way and bask in it for as long as he’d let you.

You’d begun dreaming about it day and night. Constantly fantasizing about him when you should hate him with every breath you take.

God, you wanted to hate him, claw at him, make him feel the pain you felt sitting alone in the room he kept you locked away in.

But the moment Chan’s breath spanned the nape of your neck, warm and slow as he breathed you in from behind, your head was empty of malicious intent towards him. All you could focus on was him: the smell of his cologne, the heat from his body, and the quiet hum of his satisfaction that seeped straight through your reddened ears down to the space between your legs.

His voice alone made you ache in a way you refused to acknowledge.

You pressed your thighs together, praying the steady pulse in your core would vanish if you tried hard enough to hide it.

You should’ve known better than to hope for any small triumph of self-control being near Chan because the second he saw you tense up and circle your hips, he tugged you back into him.

His left hand grasps the tousled hair at the back of your head, pulling and twisting, while the right grips your throat. A soft gasp of pain and moderate shock left your lips as he reared your head backward with a rough force on your hair, muffling the surprised sighs you let out by pressing the pads of his fingers directly against the nerves of your neck. Chan left you no choice but to inhale sharply through your nose, eyes trained on the twists and turns of your expression while his own remained inches wholly and away stoic.

You clawed at his right hand on intuition, longing for the burning need for air to settle into your lungs. Helpless abs, afraid of your excitement, you struggled against his hold on you, eyes shut tight when he choked you harder and grazed his nose along your cheek until he reached your ear. His lips pressed into a smile, lingering over the sensitive skin as he spoke to you. “I don’t want to hurt you…but,” he exhales, something kin to a groan falling from his mouth before he continues, “…I can’t keep letting you get away with this, baby girl.”

You shudder, stifling a frustrated whimper as Chan places a chaste kiss on the tip of your ear, nuzzling your head with his own as his proper slips under your ankle and forces it apart from your left one—immediate defiance courses through you being put into a new, compromising position.

Held tight against him, barely able to breathe, and legs now spread for him to see what you’d been trying to hide for nearly two weeks.

Clear evidence of how badly you wanted him.

How far you’d fallen into craving him.

Your heart stopped dead in its tracks as cool air enveloped the forming wet patch on your sheer rose pink underwear, barely hidden under the hem of your skirt. Chan whistled lowly at the sight, staring down at the evident mess you were making of yourself.

“Get a look at that, Princess…” he taunted you in a daze, watching your hips twist and buck as you tried to close your legs again and break away from him, but Chan held you steady the more you fought him.

The tears you fought so hard to hold back began to slip past your flutter lashes, dampening your burning cheeks and drizzling down to coat the veiny hand, practically suffocating you. “No…stop…I-it’s not…“ you stumbled to find an excuse, something to say that’d convince him and yourself that your arousal wasn’t natural.

But it was.

And it was thriving by the minute.

Chan bit into his lower lip, glancing over at the corner Changbin had yet to come walking around.

You could faintly hear the other man still speaking to whoever had called him but instantly pushed his princes to the back of your mind, hearing Chan’s voice melt through the air around you. “What am I going to do with you, pretty girl?” He muses, formulating answers to his question while you shiver at its implications. “You’ve been so good, too..” his praise warms your core, numbing your mind as he builds upon it.

“Doing whatever I tell you…” Chan smiles, gaze trained between the hallway entry and your vulnerable position. “Treating yourself better..”

You whine at that, feeling picked apart and full of yourself all at once by him.

“Being the good girl I knew you could be for me,” Chan mutters, his voice warm as new honey and his hand slowly shifting downward in your hair.

Past the nape of your neck, over your shoulder, down to your chest. You tense under his traveling touch, unconsciously arching up against the palm of his heavy hand as it gently kneads your left breast before attending to the right in the same manner.

Your head leers into his shoulder relaxed against the tight muscle he keeps hidden by a black shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips as they parted to attempt to catch a new breath, muffled by the crook of his neck as you inched closer to him the longer he shamelessly groped your chest.

Chan tongued his cheek, feeling your breathy moans fan over his skin, sending rivers of heat down his back, urging him to slip his hand under the hem of the lacey white camisole you wore. “I was so proud of you, baby girl…” he chuckled, eyes cutting towards the hall again before he pushed the half excuse for a shirt up above your perked breasts. You flinched, startled by his intent to fully expose you when his friend was just down the hall, but Chan wasn’t the slightest remorseful or cautious as he palmed your chest. He took his time, thumb rolling over around each of your nipples, slipping to knead your stomach when you arched for more.

“So…so proud,” he mumbles, studying the quick rise and fall of your chest as you try to breathe normally, hands moving to grip your forearm and wrist for a sense of support as he tortures your resolve. “Chan…Chan…please… sorry…I..” you give up speaking, too all over the place mentally to get a coherent sentence out, and ready to accept your fate in any way he gave it to you.

“But I guess even the best of girls need a little reminder, yeah?” Chan peers into your eyes, smiling softly and vaguely playful, but his tone is the furthest thing from it. You shake your head, brows knitting together in desperation. “No!” Chan, please…please, I promise…I’ll be good… I-I promise..”

Your pleading sinks into the room in hushed whispers, scarcely heard by anyone but him, and you watch his expression soften hearing it.

Was that…

Pity…?

Guilt?..

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face as he stared at you, but seconds later, it vanished, replaced with a smile you knew meant nothing good for you.

“I wish I could believe you, baby. I do, but you’ve earned exactly what’s coming to you.”

Chan exhales slowly, letting the hand he has splayed across your stomach inch further down to firmly cup your covered cunt and press his palm against the patch of cum spreading in the thin fabric covering it. You gasped loudly at the contact, hoping Changbin didn’t hear the lewd sound as it dwindled into a low whine.

Chan soaks in your visceral reaction to being touched indirectly, pressing his middle and ring finger into your underwear until he can feel the warmth of your cunt cover then and leak with pent-up arousal. You bit back a strangled scream at the intrusion, reveling in it and greedily rolling your hips forward against his hand for more. The tips of your toes curled through the thigh-high socks you wore because he seemed to like seeing you in them.

Your legs fell further apart, trembling with pleasure as he pumped his thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, soaking them and your ultimately useless panties in cum, and only stopping when the sound of Changbin’s footsteps came from down the hall.

Chan huffed, openly disappointed by the oncoming disruption but content with the state he’d put you in.

“The minute he leaves, you’re mine.” He groans into your ear, releasing you from his hold and readjusting your skirt and shirt before he helps you sit up straight. You blush, rightfully speechless, while he runs a hand through your hair to fix it just as Changbin rounds the corner.

a/n: I have such an intense migraine and it’s killing meeee

other links: n/a yet…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Sluttiest thing this man has ever done is that dammed teaser skit with that obnoxious ass stare and deep voice combo. He looked way too fine with that mask on and he knew it!!! 🖤 credits to creator!

[daddyricsdoll]

✩°｡🍒｡° ✩

“I- Logan I’ve never…” I finally blurt out, just as he’s between my thighs, inches away from thrusting in.

“Then let me be your first. Let me take your innocence.” Logan softly whispers to me, giving a small smile before his face turns straight– focused. He drags his tip between my folds, already building me up toward my climax. Logan attempts to cover himself in my arousal, making it easier, but I moan from him just trying to fit his tip in. Already stretching me out and making it seem nearly impossible to fit his whole length inside of me.

“Fuck. I’ll make it fit.” He makes eye contact with me, easing every worry that I had as he looks down again and slowly tries to fit his whole length in. Each little push became such a memorable sensation. Really stretching me out and forcing Logan into what he called “Such a tight fucking pussy.” Groans just fleeing his mouth constantly. Tearing me open with his cock and just when I think he can’t fit another inch inside of me, he does. Hitching my breath and allowing him to pound inside of me. A resounding echo of our moans dominating the room.

My core throbbed uncontrollably. And my hands reached out to his arms. Attempting to bring him closer just until his last push took my breath away. Fully bottoming out and taking a second to bend down and kiss my lips.

“You ready?”

“Have been since I first saw you.”

“Perfect.” Logan whispers to himself. Nearly pulling all the way out and then thrusting back in again, letting me get used to his size. I moved my hips with his, indicating the way I’ve grown accustomed to him.

Logan grabs my legs and angles my body higher, helping him reach deeper spots and falter my breathing. Grunting through each thrust. His cheeks pink and lips parted.

He felt so raw against me, acknowledging even the smallest millimetre of him as it rubbed against my skin.

Logan’s green eyes stared into me, noticing each twitch in my face and every sound from my lips. My stomach growing tight and legs quivering out of my control. Screaming out that I was moments away from my release.

I looked up at the man before me. Love only a fraction of the many emotions and feelings I have for him.

Wanton cries leaving both of our mouths. Finally allowing me to pulsate around Logan and release to his symphony of moans and climax of himself. Coming inside of my tight cunt, and stealing my innocence as it was never mine in the first place.

“How was that?” Logan asks, his voice coated with gratification.

“Perfect.”

[blvckswxnji]

Tramp Stamp | 🕯️🔗

❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱❦. ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱

-xxxxx-

Pairings: [Hobie Brown x (f) Reader]

Genre: short fic, (18+)

Warnings: some strong language, smut

Summary: Hobie seems to be fan of your new tattoo…

Word Count: 1.9k

————————————————————————

It was originally an impulsive decision on your part. It had been a random Thursday afternoon, and the idea of getting a tattoo on your lower back seemed cool. And so there you were, walking into the tattoo shop, and getting that shit inked into your skin for the next hour or so. When the artist was done, you took the time to admire the beautiful line work etched into the dip of your back.

‘Oh, Hobie’s going to love this when he sees it.’ You thought, as the excitement began bubbling its way into your gut.

You weren’t going to see him until later that night so you decided it was best to take care of it until then. You weren’t going to reveal it to him right away, instead, you wanted him to discover it for himself. You knew the reaction would be worth it. For the rest of the time being, you busied yourself with miscellaneous activities to keep yourself entertained throughout the day.

When the time rolled around for his arrival, you noticed Hobie was running a bit later than usual as he still wasn’t at your place. It was getting late, so you decided on running yourself a shower to get ready for bed. With that, you grabbed your towel, and were off to the bathroom.

Hot showers were the ideal for you, and once it was at the perfect temperature you hopped in. You made sure to be mindful of your tattoo while lathering your body, and couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of the water hitting your somewhat stiff muscles. Your playlist played softly in the background as the bathroom fogged up with steam.

You had become deep within your random shower thoughts when you heard a soft thump coming from your room. You didn’t leave the shower right away as you knew it was Hobie, and were sure he heard the sound of the shower indicating where you were to him.

It wasn’t long before you were done, stepping out of the wet tub and wrapping the towel securely around your figure. After drying off your body, you quickly exited the bathroom as it started to become suffocating. You entered the room where you were met with Hobie who had laid back comfortably on your bed. Eyes closed, legs crossed and hands behind his head. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing behind you, smirking when he was met with the sight of you in your towel.

“Well that’s certainly a sight to be welcomed by isn’ it?” He teased, biting his lip as he sat up to make his way towards you.

You flushed at the words, shaking your head. You stood up on your toes as he stood in front of you to peck his lips, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile at the warmth he enveloped you in.

“What took you so long?” You ask, pulling away to get dressed.

Hobie leans to sit back on your bed. His eyes never leave you as you make your way to your closet to grab a fresh set of clothing to sleep in.

“Oh ya’ know, the same old anomaly bullshit, and Miguel bein’ even more of a damn pain in my ass.” He utters nonchalantly, resting his weight on his hands.

You hum. Still aware of his lingering gaze as you walk back towards your bed.

“You gonna stare at me the whole time?” You ask with raised eyebrows, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before right? What, you gettin’ shy love?” He tilts his head to the side teasing the question, giving you a once over.

“No.” Your answer was short. Truth be told, Hobie always knew how to fluster you up, and make you nervous. So, you swiftly move to sit at the edge of the bed and slowly unravel your towel. It sits just above the tattoo on your lower back, so Hobie couldn’t see it just yet. Although, his heavy gaze followed your every move. The cool air hits your upper body immediately and you shiver as a result.

You tug on the cami you picked out, the hem halting just above your midriff, followed by a fresh pair of underwear you slipped on under the towel.

“Sure you’re not.” You defeatedly roll your eyes at that, reaching for your shorts. Standing up, you feel the cool air graze your lower body as the towel slips completely from your form. Although you couldn’t see it, the sharp breath of air that resonated behind you was all you needed to know what Hobie looked like. Still, you pretend not to notice, playing coy.

“Whatever Hobie,” you comment, turning to face him, “wanna watch a movie or something?” You ask, climbing up your bed to hover over him with a smile on your face. You lean in to peck his lips expecting a response, but your movement is suddenly halted as you feel two strong hands grab at your hips, and spin you so that your back is facing him again. You let out a yelp, losing your balance at the sudden movement with your side coming in contact with your mattress.

With not much time to process what was happening, you’re then pushed to lay on your stomach, followed up by the hem of your shorts being pulled down slightly to reveal your full tattoo.

“When were you gonna tell me about this hm?” His voice is low when he asks. His thumb tracing the intricate lines dancing across your skin as he examines the ink. The proximity of his body as he lifts his head to pry you of an answer makes you shiver a bit.

You turn your head to face him, his face inches from yours as his eyes darken.

“Oh this? Got it done earlier, thought you’d like it.” You smirk. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“What, you like it?” You ask him already knowing the answer.

He smirks with hooded eyes as he glances back down at the tattoo, gripping the side of your hip even harder before moving his hand down lower to grasp your ass.

You gasp softly at the feeling.

He leans into your ear. So much so, that his lips caress the shell, creating a tingling sensation across your body.

“Love it so much on you, I want to see it with no clothes on.” He whispers as he tugs at the hem of your shorts to pull them down even further.

You blush at the statement as he begins to lay kisses to your neck. “Hobie I just got dressed, and I just came from the shower.” It was a half-hearted plea, as he continued his motions that made your body heat up in anticipation.

“Shoulda’ thought about that before you got dressed babe.” He quipped, creating bruises on the soft skin of your neck as he moved to hover over you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, threading your fingers in his hair as you move to kiss his lips passionately. “Or maybe I did, and just wanted you to undress me yourself.” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Hobie looks down at you with a smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he leans closer to you, hand traveling under your cami and up towards your breast. High just enough to where his thumb could caress the underside of it.

“In that case, I’m glad to do the honors then.” He mutters before smashing his lips to yours. You would never get enough of how warm they were, and the cold sensation his piercings created when meshed with your lips.

Hobie grabbed the hem of your shirt, breaking away from the kiss to pull it over your head, rendering you nude from the waist up. His hands immediately grabbed at both of your breasts, fingers tweaking at the hardened nipples making your back arch off the bed and into him. He always knew how sensitive they were when you were aroused and it only made him want to pleasure you more.

You feel his hand travel down the length of your back, moving his hand to squeeze the side of your hip before flipping you over once again.

“Swear, you’re gonna give me whiplash if you keep doing that.” You complain as you turn your head to face him.

He grins at your reaction, “relax babe, nothin’ you can’t handle.” He says, pulling your backside up to his front, against his hips.

Hobie then makes quick work of removing his shirt, followed by the removal of your bottoms leaving you completely exposed. His hand runs down the expanse of your back, stopping at the ink that decorated the skin of your lower back.

“It’s so beautiful, can’t wait to see it as I ravish you.” He mutters lightly, making you whimper softly at the words. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips kiss the dip of your back. You feel them as they drag across your skin, going lower and lower. You shudder when you feel his nose eventually brush against your folds, causing you to moan into your pillow.

“Shit.” You whisper against the fabric as you feel his tongue begin to explore your opening.

“You always taste so good f’me sweetheart.” You blush at his praise. “I need to fuck you right now.” He breathes airily.

“Please Hobie, I need you.” You beg.

It wasn’t long after that you found said man railing into you from behind. Arms behind your arched back, face smothered into the sheets, and loud moans falling from your lips.

The sheer force that Hobie’s hips subjected you to, turned your brain into mush. The sound of skin slapping emitting all throughout the room, while both of your bodies became slick in a thin layer of sweat.

You felt as if your body was going to give out with the rate you two were going at, and Hobie could tell. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. Not when with each slam of his hips, he would be rewarded with the sight of your tattoo rippling in tandem with your skin. The way it moved as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, drove him insane.

It was just so hot to him.

“Fuck Hobie, I’m gonna come.” You yell, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening with each thrust.

“Shit, I’m close too.” He utters practically out of breath. He reaches for your neck to pull you up so your back is to his chest. “Come for me baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, thrusting faster.

With that, you are finally pushed to the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and you come undone on him.

You throw your head back in pure ecstasy, stars clouding your vision behind your eyelids as your moans fill the room. Hobie’s not far behind you as you hear a pleasured groan escape his lips and feel warm liquid fill your walls.

You feel Hobie drop his head onto your shoulder, breathing rapidly as he comes down from his high. Hot breath tickling your neck, before he sets the both of you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lay like that for a while, waiting for your bodies to cool down. His fingers softly tracing the outlines of the inked design etched in your back.

You lean into his touch, not wanting the small moment to end as it all was too perfect of a feeling.

You shuffle onto your other side to face him, cupping his jaw and bringing your lips to his in a soothing kiss. Breaking away you smirk at him.

“M’ guessing you liked it then?”

————————————————————————

I’m so glad I got this done lmao this whole week has been so tiring for me so I’m sry for the delay. Hope y’all enjoyed! <3

[suskz]

Heyyyy

so if you’re not busy I was just thinking about a fic or Drabble abt Chans teeth. Okay that sounds weird, but like biting. He has such sharp lookin canines. OML and He’d be so proud the next morning too! And I feel like he’d def manhandle you. Bud probably had a size kink too. Like am I mental. Probably. Am I giggling kicking my feet like a middle schooler. Also yes.

Kinda just had to talk abt it!!! Have a good day/night

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

pairing: Bang Chan x fem!Reader

w/c: 1,2k

tw: jealousy and possessiveness ; smut ; dirty talk ; Chan leaves marks even tho reader told him not to, but she likes it too ; painful but also pleasant bites leaving ; (subtle) size kink.

a/n: my first ask!! ^^ Initially I was thinking about writing a shorter thing, about like 300/400 words, but it turned out longer. Hope you like it anon!!

I think Chan would love to leave marks on you, yk, "marking his territory". He’d be so proud to see you covered in marks that he himself left. If your or his friends saw them and pointed at them, his ears would turn red, but deep down —not so much deep— this thing turns you both on and just pushes him to leave more of them.

୨♡୧

Overall, the evening went well.

You had fun, you had a nice time with your friends and that new dress you bought last week looks so good on you.

Maybe a little too good. But that won’t be the reason why your friend, sitting next to you, placed a hand on your thigh while laughing. Must have been a mistake.

But Chan didn't see it the same way. His steady gaze on that filthy hand that grabbed your naked skin that way, and the way he firmly grabbed your thigh when, a few seconds later, your friend’s hand moved, indicate that he was trying his best to restrain himself.

And that sent thrills of excitement through your body.

The way he held you for the rest of the night, putting his arm around your shoulders, grabbing your hips so tightly, the way he looked at your friend and the way he ate you with his eyes, they made you wet so much that for a moment you even thought of leaving with him in the middle of the evening to do better things.

Chan isn’t usually possessive, or at least not that possessive, but who wouldn’t be in front of a scene like that?

And that’s why, back home, his lips are on yours, and his hands are all over your body, from your thighs to your breasts, soon naked.

He takes his time with you, worshipping every part of your body he can reach, from head to toe. He licks every flap of your skin and leaves hickeys first on your breasts, then on your thighs, and bites on your asscheeks, making breathy moans escape from your lips.

"Don’t leave visible marks." you quickly warn him. You have to go to work tomorrow, and it would be very awkward to walk around with your neck covered in marks that clearly speak of the night you had.

He leaves only wet kisses on your neck, but once his cock gets inside of you, you both lose every crumb of thought you have.

It’s the first time he fucks you so hard. His movements have a little faster pace than usual, but they are deep and aimed as much as possible at your most sensitive spot.

All the things you might want to say come out in moans as your legs shake.

"You’re mine," he groans, "fucking mine".

And your mind is too fuzzy to understand that his teeth are sinking into the skin of your shoulder.

And he feels like he can cum just from this, from knowing that he’s marking you as his and you can’t do anything right now to stop him, because you like that too, and he can tell by the way your pussy clences around his cock.

In the heat of the moment his mind can think of nothing but how fucking beautiful you are, spread like this under him, leaving him in control of everything, of your body; how you have totally submitted to him and his touch. How small you are under him and how your little cunt swallows his dick.

His hips falter for a moment and a higher moan leaves his parted lips.

His teeth bite your neck and he moans at the arousing feeling that this causes him.

His hands now grip your hips tighter, "You will show that friend of yours these marks tomorrow, yeah?". His tongue licks the flap of skin that his teeth have just bitten, "He will finally understand who you belong to; today it seemed like he still hasn't got it." his jealousy finally shows, but you’ll rethink his words tomorrow, now the only thing you can think about is reaching your imminent orgasm.

"C-close." you warn him, and at your words he brings two of his fingers to your mouth, which you suck, wetting them with saliva, and brings them to your clit, pressing hard —but not enough to hurt— and moving them in fast circles.

"I should register you— send him the video, so he can s-see what he’ll never have," he moans, "You'd like this, yeah?".

And you’re so close, so fucking close. All you need is…

His teeth graze your neck once again, giving you a bite that's both intense and pleasurable, despite the pain, and you both moan loudly, finally coming. His fingers stop moving and his hips give the final thrusts to ride out your highs.

It’s only the next morning, when you stand in front of the mirror of your bedroom’s bathroom ready to brush your teeth, wearing your underwear and the first tank top you’ve found lying between all your clothes on the floor to cover yourself at least a little, that you really realize what he did last night.

Your eyes widen, "Chan!" you call him and he can clearly hear you, being awake and the bathroom door being open.

"Mhh?" his voice is muffled by the pillows.

You sigh, looking yourself in the mirror and touching the various marks on your neck and shoulders, hissing at the painful feeling that runs through your body.

He reaches you silently and wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

You sigh again, "I told you not to leave visible marks; I have to be at work in an hour, how do I hide these?".

He leaves a sweet kiss on one of the marks he left on your right shoulder, and you hold back a slight sound of pain. "I wouldn’t mind if that dear friend of yours who was with us yesterday sees them," he says, raising his head to lock eyes with you in the mirror, "there are a couple of things that he seems not to have understood." his grip tightens just a little around your waist.

"Are you jealous?" you smirk turning your head in his direction. He looks at you for a few seconds in the eyes, then tilts his head slightly back to give you a playful bite on the nape. You moan in pain and pull away from him, putting a hand on the slightly painful bite and looking at your boyfriend, who wears an offended expression.

“Good luck hiding them." he teases you and is about to leave, but your words stop him.

"You little…" you stop in mid-sentence, looking at yourself in the mirror and starting to think about how to hide the bites, but he turns in your direction.

"You little… what?" he urges you to finish the sentence.

"It doesn’t matter." you answer without paying attention.

You don’t notice, in fact, that he’s getting closer to you until he scoops you up in his arms like a princess. You instinctively cling to him as he carries both of you back into the bedroom, spinning around first, nearly making you scream from fright and surprise, and then throwing you on the bed.

He then goes to the closet as if nothing had happened, "That’s what you get". At his words you stick your tongue out.

[ssentimentals]

make a move {choi seungcheol}

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

prompt: 'i've never done this before' + 'i just want to please you' ((this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)

warnings: nsfw (minors, i'm looking at all of you, skip this work!), cheollie is whipped (duh, when have i ever written anything different), i'm striking again with a confident and forthcoming reader in here, fingering, handjob

seungcheol takes it slow. it's a miracle that you even agreed to be his girlfriend in the first place and he is not about to fuck it all up by rushing and making mistakes. he's a perfect gentleman, he prides himself in having a great selfcontrol and he's also absolutely terrified of messing up this chance of being with you, so. he takes it slow. his kisses never stray away from your lips and his hands are yet to map out every curve of your body cause he keeps them positioned strategically at your waist at all times. in those two months of dating he never stayed over at your place and never indicated that he wants to move things further, never pushed. all in all seungcheol is a perfect picture of someone who takes. it. slow. he's also a perfect picture of someone who's on the brink of losing his goddamn mind.

cause you don't exactly make it easy for him. part of seungcheol thinks that you're doing this on purpose, but another part doesn't want to believe in it. you can't be testing him on purpose, right? all those breathy sighs into the kiss, your fingers that caress his torso and then drop too low right next to his belt, you sitting on his lap and wiggling to get comfortable - you can't be that cruel, right? on any day he'd never think of you as anything less of an angel, but right now he is not sure. your simple 'help me pick an outfit for tonight's party' request sounded very innocent, but you closing the door and starting to undress right in front of him? sinful. devilish. seungcheol is losing his mind.

'i just need to freshen up,' you gesture towards the bathroom, taking off your hoodie. 'you can sit wherever, i'll take a quick shower and then we can choose, yeah? i want us to match!'

soft smile graces his features as he stares at your excited face. your desire to wear matching clothes is too cute and he is always ready to indulge you. 'sure babe, whatever you want.'

you smile, sending him a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. seungcheol decidedly doesn't think of your state of nakedness right behind that door and turns around, getting himself comfortable on your bed. in truth, he doesn't really know how to...move forward. and the worst part is not like you asked him to take it slow. no, he decided so himself but lately seungcheol had a hard time remembering the reasons behind this decision. he'd wait for you as long as needed if you asked so, but when you didn't he is a bit at loss. his hands itch to explore your body, his lips long to kiss you all over and he doesn't know how to breach this subject. the last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable but the more he thinks about it, the more thought of talking it out with you seems to be logical.

'babe, where's my phone?'

'right over he- oh!' seungcheol turns his head so quickly, he hears a loud crack of his neck. image of you wrapped only in a towel will not leave his mind anytime soon. 'sorry! sorry. um, i didn't mean to look, honestly. your phone is-' he reaches out and hands it to you, still turned around, '-here, yeah it's here.'

there's a silence and then he hears soft chuckle. 'cheollie, if i didn't want you to look, i would have wore clothes before going out.'

'right-right,' seungcheol lets out automatically before meaning behind your words fully sinks in. when it does, he whips his head back, staring at you dumbfounded. 'what?'

you smile at his confused face, stepping closer. 'you heard me, seungcheol. or i can repeat the whole walking out thing again if you want.'

silence. seungcheol is not sure how he is supposed to react. his brain shuts down for few seconds, taking few more seconds to restart but this time when he's silent is enough to make you feel insecure. he sees how smile slips up from your face, getting replaced with downward quirk of your lips and frown. he hates that but before his tongue can remember how words work, you mutter: 'hey, i didn't want to pressure, i was just kidding, sorry-'

'no-no!' seungcheol rushes out to say, fumbling with his words as he shots up from the bed to stand close to you. you look so fragile with your shoulders hunched and looking like he might reject you, which honestly is never an option and he needs to make it clear as a day to you. 'please don't apologise, i just blanked out on you in a moment.'

you look up to check whether thats true or not and then smile, raising your eyebrow in a flirtatious way. 'should i take it for a compliment that you blanked out seeing me half naked?'

seungcheol huffs, stepping a bit closer. his hands fall automatically on your hips and he smiles as you instantly sway closer. 'i didn't want to impose,' he explains, carefully choosing his words. 'you and i, we...we are taking it slow, so. i'm kind of-' seungcheol shakes his head, tightening his grip on your hips. it's hard to find words when you're smelling so good and your skin is still moist and- 'at loss, i guess.'

you chew on your bottom lip, thinking. 'why exactly are we taking it slow, cheollie? is this what you want? if that's what you want then of course i will respect. but if it's for my sake then i don't really care, to be honest. but if you don't want me-'

seungcheol roughly pulls you close, inhales floral scent of your shampoo and breathes out, trying to put words into sentences. he doesn't want to hear the end of your sentence, can't bear the thought of you feeling like this; he wants to be romantic, wants to sweep you off your feet, but only raw honesty is on his tongue when he whispers: 'i want you. so much. always, all the time.' when he opens his eyes, he makes eye contact with you, wanting you to know that he is not joking around. 'never doubt that, never.'

your eyes glaze over and you lick your lips nervously; this little action makes him swallow loudly. 'then...' you place your hands on his belt, looking up. 'make a move, cheol.'

a permission. a verbal one, when you're fully in your right mind - once seungcheol registers that, he has to take a deep breath. in a second he's overwhelmed with all of the options: where he can touch, kiss, seeing you naked, the positions - his fingers start to shake a little from realization that he is free to do it all. he doesn't know what to choose first simply because he wants to everything at once, immediately, god he waited so patiently-

'i've never done this before,' he hears you whisper. 'i mean-never been this forward.'

he hums, drawing soothing circles on your hips. your towel is really getting in the way and he gets bold enough to tug on it, letting the fabric fall down. it gets a hitch in breath from you and growing smirk from him in return. 'you being this forward,' he whispers, closing in so he's practically whispering in your mouth, 'is very, very sexy.'

in truth it does thing to him that are hard to explain, because whole blood rushes away from his brain and moves lower, making it hard to keep his composure. you're finally in his arms in the way that he wanted and to have you fully naked and him fully clothes is really too much for him to handle. you glance at him with a small smirk of your own, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. your chest presses to his and seungcheol locks his arms around you, fighting off his growing desire to throw you on the bed and have his way with you.

'you find me sexy?' you ask and he is so far gone, you really don't even have to try and be seductive, every move of yours captures his heart in a deadlock. 'what else?'

oh, this is a fantastic question, one that seungcheol is ready to answer even if you wake him up in the middle of the night. he leans in, starting to press kisses at each part of your face as he speaks: 'i find you sexy, yes. and absolutely irressistible, and stunning. so, so stunning. you're unreal.'

your giggle when he kisses up your neck makes him smile and he lets you go just to shrug off his jacket. 'i am real,' you assure him, not so subtly tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. then you suddenly look up, serious. 'what do you want to do?'

another brilliant question. seungcheol gathers you back in his arms once he took off his t-shirt. 'i just want to please you.'

and that's really it. in the bottom of it all is just his immense desire to please you, make you feel good. seungcheol is ready to make this his lifelong purpose, he hopes you are ready for it. at his reply your eyes twinkle and you lean in, brushing your lips over his ear: 'green light on everything, cheol.'

it's a mess from then on. one minute you two are standing in a hug and then he's between your legs, leaving kisses all over inside of your thighs while his fingers gently pry you open. if seungcheol could choose, he'd gladly die right here and now. in between your legs, getting to touch your body, hearing those sinful sounds leave your mouth - that's a good way to go. his own arousal pushes at his jeans in an uncomfortable manner, but it doesn't matter for him now. he is completely lost in your world, can spend hours right in this position, massaging supple and soft flesh of your thighs, pushing his fingers again and again in your velvety heat, leaving his little marks all over you. everything about you is addictive: your body, your taste, your sounds. he wants to memorize everything now, but realization that this is not his last time has him reeling this desire back; god, just the knowledge of him having so much time with you in the future has his knees buckling.

'seungcheol,' you keen at the of the third finger and he smiles, when you try to close your legs together.

he wants to see your face and he moves higher, trailing kisses wherever he can reach, stopping at your collarbones. you're breathing heavily and he slips down to give all of his attention to your chest, smirking at you groaning. he speeds up his fingers and his jaw slackens in awe when you start moving along, chasing your high with a loud whine, grabbing his bicep for support. 'fuck- yes, c'mon, use me, use my fingers, take what you want, love,' he lets out, eyes fixed on the way your hips move.

'oh my god,' your nails dig painfully into his skin. 'i'm- seungcheol, i need-'

seungcheol moves down swiftly, knowing exactly what you need. his lips close around the nub and he sucks in time with his fingers, making you cry out. your legs shake when you climax and whole body grows taut for few seconds before relaxing, sagging back into the bed. cheol works you through it, his lips and fingers serve a constant pressure in the right places, stopping only when you tug weakly at his hair. he grins, leaning down to lap up at your juices. your skin is glowing with light sheen of sweat and he wonders will you be disgusted or not if he licks it off.

'feeling okay?' he asks quietly, moving up until he's facing you.

your eyes focus on him after few moments and you smile, nodding. your hand reaches out to his belt and he catches it, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. 'what about you?' you ask, frowning.

'i'll take care of it,' he says. 'you are tired and don't even argue about it.'

you pout but don't argue - you are tired. this day has been dreadful and after an orgasm all you wanna do is just roll over and fall asleep. however, leaving him high and dry is not what you want, so you stubbornly reach out for his jeans, ignoring his groan of protest. 'handjob?' you ask, looking up at your boyfriend. 'blowjob?'

seungcheol curses under his breath; how can someone look so cute when these kind of words leave their mouth? he sighs, pulling you in and whispering into your hair: 'handjob.'

honestly, he's so pent up that even few strokes from you will do it but he tries to hold on, not wanting to leave a bad impression. so he grits his teeth and tries to think unsexy thoughts when you caress his shaft slowly before picking up your speed. he's trying to be quiet but you lean on and start kissing him and oh, he is a weak, weak man. seungcheol moans loudly into your mouth when you apply more pressure and pants openly as his stomach tightens from all the feelings. 'let go,' you whisper - command? - into his ear and he follows your order easily like it's the most natural thing in the world. you swallow up all his sounds with a kiss and his midn blissfully drifts in and out until he comes back to reality, when you reach out behind him for a tissue.

'shower?' you ask, looking at him with a warm smile.

'and a nap,' seungcheol nods. 'want me to go first and fix the temperature?'

seungcheol wants nothing more than to lay here and fall asleep with you, but he knows how you hate sweat and how you hate cold water and having to wait for it to warm up, so his want will hav to wait. you nod gratefully, smiling at how well he knows you. 'yes please.'

'how polite,' cheol snickers but stands up, tucking his jeans away and rushing to the bathroom. he stands there for a while, waiting for water to warm up and then grabs two new towels before calling you in. 'all is ready, your highness, please do come in.'

your laugh makes his heart beat louder in his chest and he sighs in satisfaction when you drop a kiss at his forehead before going in. this evening turned out to be something else and he's never been more glad of it.

a/n: so.many.feelings in this smut, this got out of control when i started writing it. let me know what you think - nini

tagging @prpldahy