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milessunflowers · 2 days ago
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CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!
perhaps t4t omega!oscar x alpha!reader? (fluffy or suggestive, idm!! let that amazing brain go crazy)
TY VINVIN COULDNT HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT 🫶🏻
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trans!omega!oscar piastri x trans!alpha!reader
synopsis: he's just so cute and delicious that you can't resist him
author's note: vinnie fr be feeding into my oscar addiction and i am loving it so tysm vinvin for constantly reminding me how gorgeous this man is
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FLUFF!
you both borrow each other's clothes all the time
especially when you guys are dysphoric
it helps a lot weirdly enough
and when one of you guys get top surgery, you guys are right by each other's side
so cuddly and clingy
especially after a bad race/race weekend
you guys would go on cute dinner dates all the time
oscar's family absolutely adores you
you love his scent bc it's a soft beach-y scent (at least to me that's what he would smell like)
you love making dinner together even though a lot of the time it ends up burnt
oscar's nests are so cozy that you guys could spend all day cuddled up in the blankets/pillows/clothes
oscar i feel like would be a koala at night and just cling to you so tightly, his nose pressed right to your scent gland because it's a comfort thing
also you guys have a teddy bear that you guys have deemed to be your child
loves late night drives where you guys just watch the stars
SUGGESTIVE!
hes so loud in bed
especially during his heat, like not even covering his mouth can keep him from being heard anywhere
loves riding the strap on
lowkey bratty but in a good way where it's just small things you don't mind
like scratching up your back or leaving one too many bites to cover up
in return you leave him with a slight limp
his scent makes your brain go crazy during heat/rut so like you guys don't leave for days at a time
loves seeing the small marks here and there on his chest and thighs
literally will trace them with his fingers and ask you to leave more
refuses to shower afterwards without you which totally doesn't end up in like two more rounds
loves having your scent (and cum) all over him
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TAGS! (if you want to be added lmk!)
@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius
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cece693 · 12 hours ago
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Personal Bodyguard
pairing: tony stark x male reader tags: you can't tell me Tony isn't bi or at least experimented in his youth, you become his personal bodyguard after the cave fiasco and iron man revelation, enemies-to-friends-to lovers, Tony really needs a hug, reader is set to become his friend (and more), military background
You’re used to working in tense environments. The military taught you that complacency is death and that vigilance is survival. You’ve seen your fair share of conflict, learned to read people and situations at a glance. That’s probably why Pepper Potts sought you out after Tony Stark’s dramatic return from Afghanistan. She looked you up and down with calculating eyes, recognized a bit of herself in your “don’t mess with me” attitude, and decided on the spot—you were the best candidate to protect Tony Stark from himself, and from the new, dangerous world he was plunging into.
Tony’s penthouse overlooks the Malibu coastline, the sun reflecting off the ocean waves and onto polished floors. There he stands—fresh from the workshop, grease on his tank top and that lopsided grin that only half-masks the shadows under his eyes. He spots you, sizes you up, and crosses his arms. “Pep, this is the solution you found?” Tony gestures at you dismissively. “A glorified babysitter?”
Pepper forces a polite smile. “A bodyguard, Tony.” You don’t rise to his bait. The best reaction here is none at all—just a stony expression. Let him get it out of his system. He cocks an eyebrow at your silence, clearly expecting some snark in return.
“Fine,” he says, turning on his heel. “Follow me. Or don’t. Whatever." Pepper shakes her head apologetically as she goes to leave. Before she goes, she places a hand on your shoulder, giving you an unspoken good luck. You already know you’ll need it.
Tony tries his best to make your life difficult. He’ll disappear from his home at odd hours, use his snark to try and aggravate you, or do something reckless like attempt a suit flight test above the Malibu cliffs. However, you're never that far behind and your patience is endless. One night, he’s just touched down too hard in the Mark II, crashing through his garage and damaging several of his expensive cars. You rush in, weapon at the ready, scanning for threats.
“Relax,” Tony says, struggling to peel off the broken armor. “It’s just me doing some, uh, routine test improvements.” You exhale slowly, then calmly dismantle your sidearm. No threats—except the one Tony poses to himself.
“You know,” you say eventually, picking up a piece of the shattered gauntlet, “if you keep messing around with these half-finished upgrades, eventually I won’t just be your bodyguard. I’ll be the one scraping you off the ground.”
Tony stares at you, momentarily struck by the genuine concern in your voice, before clearing his throat. “Point taken,” he mutters, but for the first time, he seems less antagonistic—and almost thankful.
The slow thaw between you and Tony continues. He starts sharing details of the Iron Man suit, half to show off and half because he’s realized you’re more at ease when you know everything that’s going on. You learn that behind the smug exterior, Tony is propelled by guilt, determination, and a heart that aches to do genuine good. And for your part, despite your initial refusal to get personally involved, you find yourself caring about him—protecting him matters, but so does understanding him.
Late nights often find the two of you in the workshop. Tony’s hyper-focused on some new repulser tech while you stand guard, occasionally offering your own insight to whatever he was working on. You’d never guess Tony would be the type to listen, but he does, especially when your suggestions keep him from blowing up half the lab. He’ll acknowledge your tips with a half-smile, or a nod that says more than words.
Pepper noticed the shift. She’d smile at you in passing, relief evident in her eyes. She once patted your shoulder and said, “You’re good for him. He trusts you, and that’s not something I say lightly.” Rhodey, Tony’s closest friend, warmed up to you fast. He appreciated having another military mind around. When Tony got lost in his own arrogance, Rhodey and you would share an exasperated look.
Then everything changes again when Tony becomes an Avenger. Suddenly, it’s not just small-scale threats or paparazzi you have to worry about—it’s cosmic forces, alien invasions, global catastrophes. You do your best to keep Tony safe in these new, unpredictable situations, but it’s a challenge.
The Avengers team is a powder keg of personalities. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, openly clashes with Tony over leadership and moral ideals. You see how the tension weighs on Tony; he deflects with sarcasm, but you’ve come to know the signs of when he’s hurting.
One night at the tower, you’re standing off to the side while Tony and Steve butt heads—again. "Take away the armor," Steve says, voice steely, "and what are you?" The words hang in the air. Tony’s jaw tightens, and you can practically see his heart sink. It’s a cheap shot. And it’s wrong. You step forward before Tony can snap back with a trademark insult. There’s a calm coolness in your voice, the kind that hushes even the Captain.
“Tony Stark is the mind that built that suit,” you say evenly. “He’s the one who sees solutions where everyone else sees dead ends. If you take away the armor, you’ve still got the man who pulled himself out of a cave and saved his own life with scrap metal—because that’s who he is. He’s more than the suit, Rogers, and you know it.”
Steve meets your gaze and steps forward, but you aren’t intimidated. There were lines you simply wouldn’t let him cross, not tonight, not after he delivered that cheap shot at Tony without even knowing him. You can see Tony stiffen beside you, as if ready to jump in—or bolt. But you’re not about to let Steve’s words cut him down.
“Think very carefully about what you say next, Rogers,” you warn, voice low and steady. “Because none of you would be here—Avengers, Stark Tower, anything—if it weren’t for this man. Armor or no armor.”
For a split second, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. Clint shifts uneasily near the back, Natasha straightens from her casual lean against the wall, and even Bruce lifts his head from the tablet he’s been absorbed in. Steve’s jaw tightens; he clearly didn’t expect you to stand your ground so bluntly—and you don’t care. Your top priority is Tony’s well-being, not theirs. With nothing more to say, you turn on your heel and head for the workshop.
By the time you reach the corridor leading to Tony’s private workspace, the echo of your own footsteps has become a steady, reassuring beat. Only then do you register the soft tread following behind you. He’s close—but conspicuously silent, which is out of character for a man who thrives on quips and banter.
“Sir, you have arrived at the workshop,” Jarvis’s polite voice chimes overhead, and the door slides open with a hiss.
You step inside and finally turn around. Tony lingers just past the threshold, his eyes lowered. His silence seems almost heavy, like he’s struggling to find the right words. “I never asked you to defend me,” he murmurs. “But you…you did. Why?” The workshop’s lights glow softly, illuminating half-built armor pieces and scattered blueprints. You let the sound of humming machinery fill the short gap before you speak.
“Because you needed someone to,” you say simply, though your voice carries an undercurrent of heat—residual frustration from your confrontation with Steve. “And because I wanted to.”
Tony’s gaze flickers upward—he looks uncertain, almost disarmed. “I can handle myself,” he says, though he doesn’t quite meet your eyes. It’s a weak protest, more habit than conviction.
You exhale, crossing your arms. “I know you can. Doesn’t mean you have to face it alone. Especially when the hits are coming from the people supposed to have your back.”
“You caught me off guard,” he admits, voice low, “standing up for me like that. Especially in front of the team.”
You stand your ground, letting the seriousness of the moment settle in. “You act like I never stand up for you.”
A wry huff of laughter escapes him. “Not the same way. Usually, you’re telling me not to blow up half my lab or reminding me to eat something other than coffee. This time you had my back when it counted.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I’m your bodyguard, Mr. Stark. That means I protect you—against outside threats and inside threats too. Even if that threat’s a super soldier with a knack for colorful speeches.”
“So that’s it?” he asks, a thin note of vulnerability in his tone. “You did it because it’s your job?” You take in his tense posture—shoulders rigid, hand flexing at his side. Tony’s never been good at showing his more vulnerable edges. Carefully, you move closer, letting your voice soften.
“Let’s get one thing straight. Defending you isn’t just me ‘clocking in.’ I do it because I care. Because I know you’re more than just the suit, no matter what Steve says.” Tony looks up at you in surprise, but you're not done yet. "If this was just part of my job, I wouldn't be spending all my free time down here with you. I would've jumped at the chance to quit when you offered it on a silver platter."
Tony cracks a half-smile, remembering when he outright tried to bribe you to quit, and you surprisingly rejected his offer. The money could've set you for life, supported you and a family if you so desired, but you simply shook your head and informed him about a meeting he had in the morning.
Tony moves closer, so close you can count the faint freckles along his cheekbones. “I hated the idea of having a bodyguard,” Tony admits, voice low. “But I’ve come to realize how much I needed you.” Your heart stutters, unsure of how to respond. Tony swallows thickly, looking uncharacteristically unsure. There’s no witty remark, no deflecting sarcasm. It’s just him, raw and honest, baring feelings you never thought he’d share.
“You’ve become one of the closest people in my life,” he continues. “I trust you in ways I don’t trust anyone else. Hell, Pepper might be the only other person who gets me anywhere close to this.” He hesitates, eyes flicking to your lips before returning to your gaze. “And…I’ve been trying to figure out how to say I might—well—I feel something for you.”
Your stomach flips, warmth blooming in your chest. There’s something surreal about this: Tony Stark, the man who refused to even acknowledge your presence at first, now openly admitting he cares—that he wants something more than just having you as security detail.
A ghost of a smile curves your lips. “I might feel something for you, too.” Tony’s grin is immediate—relief and mischief dancing in his eyes. He leans in, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades.
“Do I have to make an appointment to kiss my bodyguard,” he murmurs, “or is this—” You cut him off by closing the distance, your lips finding his in a slow, tentative kiss.
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chronicparagon · 8 days ago
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[ Thinking about Harmony's HSR story, I'm thinking about making the leader of ARES a member of the Genuis Society. It's no surprise that some of the members are not exactly ethical (which I as a researcher has a big problem with but I digress).
From what I see, numbers 30-55 are blank, so I think it would be okay if I pick any of those numbers or possibly somewhere between 57-63. So, I thought of what if this member is obsessed with the science of warfare and their organization have contracts and partnerships with dictatorships, private military contractors, and the IPC being their biggest partner.
Having said that, I was thinking for part of Harmony's story, IPC used weapons provided by ARES to conquer Yaknichuka. Harmony would be severely wounded in battle trying to protect her people and home. I was thinking what if it's IPC that recovered her, taking her into captivity to sell or give to ARES since they would be more than happy to take prisoners of war. She would be spared from slavery or execution, but would be forced to become a weapon.
I'll be giving some details about ARES in Harmony's Eidolons and the metas about ARES and Project Ursa, which hints to the berseker warrior from Old Norse history. The project aims to creating powerful cyborg soldiers who can continue to fight and kill even after the soldier's death. Basically, making them berserker zombies. This would be done by an implant in the soldiers' brains called the kill switch. It would activate once the brain activity ceases at death, taking over the body.
I have yet to decide if Harmony would have the implant that would make her a berserker if she passes. I kind of want her at an early stage when she survives the prototype stages and tests, but breaks free before the phase when the kill switch implant is put into her brain. I want her to keep her autonomy.
I'm just throwing my ideas out here to see what people may think of it. I thought about them for a while and want to toss them out in the open to see what sticks. I'll likely stick with the head of ARES being a member of the Genius Society and being involved in Harmony's imprisonment since they would be leading Project Ursa. I can see them being determined to also get her back since Harmony is the only survivor of their experiments. It could serve as a possible plot.]
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pepperpixel · 2 years ago
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More petrigrof!!! First a set of pics I didn’t fully finish of these 2 in sexy sweaters. And secondly!!!! The last / bonus picture of a set of nsfw petrigrof I posted on my nsfw twitter! The rest of that art… is here. If you want to see it lol
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sudoscience · 2 years ago
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[tumblr], I'm begging you. Nobody, absolutely nobody, not a single person, wants a feature that forces itself back on every 7 days. I lost the post I was reading because the app decided it was time to refresh and put Tumblr Live back on my dash, and now I can't find it again.
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pencildragons · 11 months ago
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the time has come where i have become DEEPLY BORED of my (not irl) name, wyrm. (i am also deeply bored of all 3 of my irl names but. that is whatever) beloved tumblr goers pls suggest any names you have pleading eyes emoji
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kingbeeleth · 2 years ago
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I NEED TO VIEW MAAAD #00FF00 IMAGES RIGHT NOW!!!!! OR ELSE I DIE!!!!!!!!! DONT LET ME DIE!!!!!!!! LET ME FIND MORE #00FF00!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELP MEEEEEEEEEEeeee
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domjaehyun · 4 months ago
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under the influence (l.dh)
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PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 
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As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.
The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.
“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.
“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 
Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 
“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 
It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.
“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.
“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.
“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.
In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.
You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 
“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”
“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”
As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.
“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.
“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.
“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”
“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”
“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.
It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.
He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.
“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 
Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.
Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.
“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”
You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”
“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.
“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 
“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”
“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”
“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.
“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.
“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 
“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.
“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.
“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  
“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.
“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.
“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.
“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.
Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.
When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 
“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”
“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.
“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”
“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”
Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.
Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.
“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.
He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.
“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.
When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 
“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”
He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”
“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”
“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.
“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.
“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”
It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.
When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.
“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.
He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.
“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 
“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.
you [18:11pm] SOS
you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?
You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 
Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 
Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.
yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁
karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??
yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there
yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.
Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.
“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 
“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 
“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”
“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 
“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 
“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 
“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.
“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.
“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”
You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.
“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”
Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”
“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.
“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.
“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”
“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 
“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.
“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.
“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”
Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”
“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”
“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.
“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.
“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.
“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.
“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.
You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”
“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 
As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 
“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.
“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 
The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.
“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.
“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 
“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 
“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.
Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—
“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 
“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”
“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.
“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 
“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 
When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.
He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.
“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”
You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.
It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.
“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.
As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 
Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.
“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.
“Why?”
His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 
You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.
“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.
“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.
When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.
As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.
Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 
“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 
“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.
“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.
“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.
“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.
His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.
Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.
You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.
You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  
“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”
“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.
Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.
“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”
You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.
“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.
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Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.
Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.
“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”
“I know,” you mutter bitterly.
“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.
“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.
You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.
Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—
“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”
“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.
“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.
“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.
“And why do you ask that?”
You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 
“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”
“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.
“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.
“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”
“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”
“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.
“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”
“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.
“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.
“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 
“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”
“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.
You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.
“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?
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You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 
“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.
He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 
“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.
As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”
“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.
“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.
“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”
“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 
“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”
“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.
“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 
“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 
“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.
“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 
When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 
“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 
“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”
His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.
“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”
“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.
“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 
He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”
Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 
“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 
“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”
“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”
Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 
“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”
“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 
“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.
“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.
“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”
“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 
He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.
As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”
“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.
“Say my name, baby.”
“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.
He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 
Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 
You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.
His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.
“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”
Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 
As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.
As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 
You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.
“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”
“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”
“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 
“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”
You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 
“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 
It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.
“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”
You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.
You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 
“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”
Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.
“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”
You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 
“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 
“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.
When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.
“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.
Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”
You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 
“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 
Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.
“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”
“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.
“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”
“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.
“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”
He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.
“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.
“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.
“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.
“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”
You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 
Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.
“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”
“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 
“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”
“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.
“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 
“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.
“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”
“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”
“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 
You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.
“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 
“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.
“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”
“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.
“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 
Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”
“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.
“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 
“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.
“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.
He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 
“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.
“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”
He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.
When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 
You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 
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“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”
“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.
“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”
“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.
Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.
“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”
“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 
When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.
“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”
“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.
“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”
You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.
As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.
“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”
“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.
“So?”
“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”
“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”
“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.
“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”
“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.
“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”
“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.
“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.
3K notes · View notes
sttoru · 1 year ago
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. height difference + jjk men — seeing you struggling to initiate a kiss, ft. gojo, nanami, toji, choso
note. super self indulgent once again woopsies
tags. jjk men x female reader (separately). fluff, suggestive themes. size difference obviously: reader is shorter than the characters. little hint of an age gap in toji’s part (you; early 20’s, he early 30’s). reader gets referred to as ‘small, short, adorable’. nicknames used ‘baby, sweetheart, princess, little girl, angel’. includes drabbles for each character.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
“what’s the matter, baby?” satoru easily notices whenever you’re internally debating something. you’d fidget with your clothes, look around and nibble on your bottom lip.
even if you say that it’s nothing, your lover knows that you mean the exact opposite. he walks hand-in-hand with you out of the boutique where he had bought you a pretty dress. his thumb rubs your skin gently, hoping to comfort you with whatever you’re struggling to say.
“it’s uhm,” you finally speak up. satoru halts his steps and tilts his head with a curious pout on his lips. he doesn’t wish to pressure you into anything, so he keeps quiet.
his blue eyes follow your movements from behind his sunglasses. you step closer to him, your small hands travelling up to gently hold onto his jacket. you gulp before balancing your entire body on your toes—creasing your shoes a bit by doing so.
at this point, satoru knows what you’re trying to do. your actions are absolutely adorable and make the sorcerer giggle. he wants nothing more than to squish your cheeks together for being so cute. especially because you’re failing to reach his lips.
“oh, do y’need help maybe?” satoru asks with a smug grin. you frown and try to stand on the tips of your toes, though that didn’t seem enough. your lover needs to lower his head a tad more for you to kiss him.
satoru tilts his head backwards instead. he loves to see you pout and struggle to carry out such an affectionate act. he can’t help it—you’re so fun to tease, “c’mon, you can do it, baby!”
when you give up due to his constant teasing, the white-haired man gasps dramatically. you smack his bicep and turn around with a huff, “forget it.”
before you can take another step away from him—satoru’s hand reaches out to hold your wrist. he pulls you back against his chest, warm palm holding your cheek and tilting your head up so his glossy lips could meet yours.
“sorry,” satoru mutters against your mouth. his tongue sneakily swipes against yours which causes you to squirm. he gives your bottom lip a playful nibble in response, “couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”
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𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
“welcome home, dear!” you greet kento at the front door as per usual. he sighs in relief and smiles tiredly, appreciating your appearance before him. he seems utterly exhausted from his most recent mission.
“it’s good to see you, sweetheart,” kento shuts the door behind him. he takes off his shoes and places them where they belong before doing the same with his coat. he looks down at you as you help him tidy his belongings, “you’re looking beautiful tonight.”
to say you’re flustered is an understatement. kento always knows just how to get you shy and embarrassed from the casual way he compliments you. you’re in your pyjamas and apron—barefaced with nothing extra going on and yet your lover is completely engrossed by your looks.
“thank you,” you murmur back with a bright smile. kento smiles as well after seeing your happy expression. that’s what he does it for.
you hold kento’s hand and feel its warmth engulf your skin. his palms are a little rough; probably from the hard work he put into those recent missions he did. you look up at the blonde man in front of you and want nothing more than to kiss him—show your gratitude for everything he does for you.
thus, you lean in and stand on your toes, balancing on one foot whilst the other floats a few centimetres above the wooden floor. it’s hard to find a balance, though your attentive partner is quick to lend a hand.
“careful,” kento whispers, his voice so husky that you feel a shiver run down your spine. his big hands settle on your waist and he doesn’t waste a single second after that.
he leans in as well, head lowered to yours and your noses lightly brushing against each other. kento’s lips find your soft ones—interlocking them in a passion filled kiss. you can feel his entire body relax even more. as if he’s waited all day to be back home. to be back to you.
to kiss and hold you close.
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𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
“over here, princess,” toji calls you over with a subtle wave. he’s leaning against a brick wall, hands in the pockets of his black jacket. you walk over to him with an excited smile—happy to spend some quality time together with him today.
“hey, i missed you,” you comment and wrap your arms around his waist. you nuzzle your face against his chest to which toji reacts by giving you an awkward head pat.
the older man lifts your head up and away from his body by holding onto your chin. his eyes run over your face, letting out a short content hum. he’s missed you a lot too. not that he’d tell you that directly.
“how’s uni for ya?” toji asks. the pad of his thumb rubs your cheek and you lean into his touch. it brings a little smirk to his face—seeing how easily you become putty in his hands is rather amusing.
“been okay for most part,” you shrug and fail to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. he probably doesn’t do it on purpose, but his half-lidded eyes makes your lower abdomen feel funny.
you’re still so nervous around him, though you’ve got the guts to at least kiss him first. you missed the feeling of his lips against you after all. the constant, soothing rubs of his thumb against your cheek only intensifies your desire.
you lift yourself up on the tips of your shoes. your cold hands cup toji’s face and he immediately gets what you’re trying to do. he snickers at the sight of you struggling to reach him and acts like he doesn’t know what you want.
. . until you whine about how you really want to kiss him. that man is sold the moment he hears your whiny voice.
“fuck. c’mere, little girl,” toji’s veiny hands go around your waist and move down to cup your ass, his lips crashing down onto yours with a desperation he’s never kissed you with before.
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𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
“do i need to add salt? she’s talking too fast,” choso ask whilst scratching his head. he’s watching a youtube video on his phone; specifically a cooking one. he’s attempting to copy a recipe in his kitchen and you’re helping him since he doesn’t know too much about phones. and cooking apparently.
you giggle and grab the phone from the counter. the lady’s words are incomprehensible due to the video being on two times the usual speed. you return the settings to normal with a light hearted chuckle, “yeah, because you’ve sped up the video, silly.”
“oh,” choso smiles sheepishly. he checks the stove and makes sure the food isn’t burning before turning towards you, “thank you. you’re a lifesaver, heh.”
you can’t help but admire the view of choso in front of you. he’s in an apron which is too small on him since it’s yours—his chiseled chest accentuated by the fabric. his black hair is up in a small ponytail and his cheeks are red. probably from embarrassment.
“you’re adorable,” you comment lovingly. choso’s cheeks turn even redder by your compliment and he sputters some words about how he ‘needs to focus on his cooking’.
you interrupt his stammers by getting closer. your lover stops and his lips are parted—giving you the perfect chance to capture them into a kiss. well, you try to at least
choso notices your silent struggles and blinks. it takes him a second to fully grasp the situation before he decides on helping you. he smiles warmly, his beefy arms effortlessly lifting you up to his height, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.
one hand is on your thigh, the other holding the back of your head to deepen your shared kiss. choso pulls away and attaches his lips to your neck, settling you the counter, “want more, angel. you drive me crazy.”
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10K notes · View notes
downbad4sylus · 2 months ago
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“I killed you”
synopsis: After spending the day with Sylus, the energy linkage binding you appears just when you were about to leave for the night, so you stay and fall asleep in Sylus’s bed only to have your past life finally catch up to you.
content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationship; angst but happy ending; sort of cliff-hanger; vaguely proofread
word count: ~1.8k
a/n: been lurking in the LADS tag for ages now and finally got around to making an account so this is my first ever fic!!! i have a part 2 in the works if people want to see where the story goes after it ends but either way, hope you guys like it :)
You and Sylus had been spending quite a bit of time together lately. Ever since returning from the grasslands, you both stayed true to your promise to be more upfront and honest about what you wanted. And you both wanted to be near each other.
Whether it was Sylus helping with one of your missions or you accompanying him to his many auctions. Or something much simpler, like him dropping by your apartment in Linkon when he “happened to be in the area” or you visiting the Onychinus base in the N109 Zone because you also “happened to be in the area.” Either way, you’d been at the other’s side more often than not these days, which had a certain energy linkage making a reoccurring appearance as well.
The linkage appeared nearly every time you were with Sylus now, particularly when one of you was about to depart, the linkage stopping you from separating. You and Sylus had adopted a common practice of holding hands when linked, under the pretense it was just “easier” that way, not at all that either of you actually wanted to hold the other’s hand. No, nothing as silly as that.
Tonight had been no different.
You’d gone over to the base in the morning on a rare day off, expecting to find Sylus asleep but was pleasantly surprised when he was the one to answer the door.
“Morning sweetie,” he’d greeted with his signature smirk.
“Sylus? Shouldn’t you be asleep?” you’d asked, cocking your head as you stared up at him.
“I have some business to deal with during the day today,” he’d explained, ushering you into the base with a warm hand on the small of your back. “And lucky me, a certain kitten has come to accompany me.”
That was how you got roped into spending the day hopping from deal to deal with Sylus, clad in a dress he already had prepared for you to match his suit. But you didn’t mind, not one bit, you appreciated any time you got to spend with Sylus.
Ever the gentleman, Sylus took you to an expensive dinner once the deals were complete, ordering anything you so much as glanced at off the menu. He loved to spoil you, loved the little crease between your brows even more when you insisted he was going overboard. But as he always did, he told you he had more money than he knew what to do with, money he wanted to shower you in, and you were just going to have to get used to it.
By the time you returned to the base—and taken the shower Sylus wisely suggested—it was late, and you were exhausted. Sylus offered to drive you home himself, saying he’d have Luke and Kieran drop off your bike tomorrow, but you insisted the roads would be clear this time of night so it would be a quick ride back to Linkon. You didn’t really want to go though, and you would’ve stayed had you not had work in the morning.
Of course, a cheeky energy linkage had other plans.
Sylus leaned against the doorway, watching you as you turned away from him to head for your bike, only for your arm to jerk back suddenly.
He caught you before you could fall, your back flush with his broad chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist. Without a word, he lifted his other hand to which your own hand followed, the gold linkage shimmering in the moonlight.
“Guess you’re calling out of work,” he chuckled.
This shouldn’t have surprised you, not with the current track record, and honestly, you weren’t mad at all. Not when you were cuddled up to Sylus’s side in his bed, your linked hands entwined in the little space between you, already drifting off to sleep after an eventful day.
You were dreaming…
Dreaming about false accusations. About an Abyss, sealed beneath a fiend-filled city. About gold and treasure. About a dragon.
Your dragon.
You were dreaming about Sylus, a dragon with a human form. About a life spent in exile with him, raiding and pillaging, taking from others to hoard for yourselves.
You were dreaming about falling in love with your dragon. Teaching him about human love and compassion. Only to be torn apart by a curse.
You were dreaming…
No.
You were remembering.
You didn’t know how you knew it, but deep in your soul you knew this other life with Sylus was not simply conjured by your subconscious.
And the worst memory was saved for last.
On the day you were to be executed, when your dragon swooped in and killed your accusers. When you thought you’d be able to embrace your dragon one last time, and instead drove a claymore straight through his chest.
You lived through the last time you and Sylus flew through the skies, of him using the last of his strength to bring you to the field of datura flowers you’d both only dreamed of.
You lived through clutching your beloved dragon, pleading with him not to leave you, but he’d died in your arms and disintegrated into ash.
You woke abruptly, chest heaving and heart beating wildly. You threw off the arm Sylus had slung over your waist in his sleep and forced him onto his back as you straddled his waist, ripping his robe open to reveal his chest. In the sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains, you saw Sylus’s bare chest, free of scales, no red pattern etched into his skin, no red gem at the center of his chest, and most importantly, no claymore.
Sylus, who had been startled awake by your sudden manhandling, stared up at you with wide eyes, watching as tears streamed down your cheeks and onto the chest your gaze was locked on.
“Sweetie,” he murmured, raising a hand to brush the hair out of your face.
Your eyes snapped to his. “I killed you,” you whispered.
His hand froze midair.
It couldn’t be.
“I killed you,” you repeated, no less quiet but far more anguished.
You remembered.
Sylus couldn’t believe it, you actually remembered.
He’d long given up hope of you recalling the past you shared with him, and, if he was being honest with himself, was glad you didn’t. He was happy with you as you were now, not much different than when he knew you then. Your time together did not end happily and the last thing he wanted was for you to go through such heartbreak again. Yet here you were, doing exactly that.
Sylus broke free of his stupor and wrapped his arms securely around you, hauling you into his lap as he sat up against the headboard. You buried your face in his neck, racked with heart-wrenching sobs.
“How could you make me do that?” you wailed, clutching his robe so hard your knuckles were white.
Sylus rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I had to,” he answered, his voice rough as he too remembered that fateful day. “I couldn’t let you die, but had we both lived, you would’ve succumbed to the curse with me. I couldn’t let that happen, you didn’t deserve that.”
“But it meant I lost you, Sylus!” you cried.
He hugged you closer to him. “I know, Y/N, and I’m so sorry.”
It was all he could offer you. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, what he’d taken from you, that he’d left you alone. But his words were true, he’d rather die than you fall to the curse alongside him. You saved his life with half your soul, the least he could do was spare you from his fate.
That was what love was, wasn’t it? Sacrifice. He’d fall on the sword a hundred times over if it meant saving you, his beloved. You were everything to him, his reason for living, breathing.
Sylus sat, holding you tight while you mourned a lifetime’s worth of love and loss, until your sobs quieted and your short breaths were warm against his neck.
You traced a finger along his collarbone, dipping down into the center of his chest where the red gem once rested. “Sylus.”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“If I told you I loved you, would you make me kill you again?”
His heart stopped, though he couldn’t tell if it was because you all but confessed your love for him or if it was from the thought of you having to take his life again.
Sylus recovered quickly however, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary stress. “The curse died with the dragon,” he said softly. “The only one that remains is your own, sweetie.”
You were quiet for a beat. “The one where you’re tied to me? Where only I can grant you a true death?”
“Yes, that one.”
You nodded.
Pieces were clicking into place for you. Everything Sylus had done when you first met, down the what he’d said, it was to jog your memory. He just wanted you to remember him. No wonder he’d treated you like that, he was trying to provoke the old you. It broke your heart realizing that you hadn’t remembered him, that it probably broke his.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, choking on a sob.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Sylus said firmly.
“I didn’t remember you,” you protested weakly.
“I know, sweetie, and it’s okay,” he assured gently.
You shook your head, your chest aching at his gentle tone. Despite not remembering him, Sylus still wanted to spend time with you, to get to know this you. He didn’t have to make an effort, but he still wanted you. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like him. To have fallen in love not once but twice with a man who’d sacrifice himself in order to save you.
You lifted your head and gazed into those beautiful, gem-like eyes. “Sylus?”
His own gaze didn’t waver from yours. “Yes, sweetie.”
“Is there a field of flowers near the N109 Zone that we could visit tomorrow?” you asked.
Sylus’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but then his full lips lifted into a smile. “Not in the N109 Zone, but close enough to drive to. Can I know why you’re asking?”
A smile teased your own lips. “I’d like to bring our dream to reality, if that’s all right with you.”
Sylus reached up, finally brushing that strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “It’s more than all right with me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, the meaning no longer lost to you. “Sleep now, we can go in the morning.”
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dksfml · 4 months ago
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Love 119 [Part Two]
part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part three] [part four (prequel)]
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pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!
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You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”
It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.
A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.
“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”
“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”
She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”
Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”
“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”
Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”
The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.
The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.
The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.
But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.
Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.
It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.
Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.
His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.
Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.
Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.
Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”
Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."
You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"
Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.
Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.
Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”
The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.
He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.
"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."
You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."
Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.
Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."
The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.
But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”
The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."
Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."
Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.
You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.
Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."
You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"
"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:
“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”
It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.
The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.
You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.
You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”
He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."
You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.
Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”
A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.
You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.
“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.
This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.
“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.
Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.
He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.
You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”
Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.
“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”
You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.
“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”
He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.
“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.
He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.
“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”
Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”
“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.
He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.
“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”
Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”
“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.
He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”
“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.
As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”
Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”
He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.
When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.
In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.
His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.
In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.
“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”
His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.
He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.
With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.
As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.
You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.
Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.
“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.
“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.
“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”
With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.
[part one] [part three] [part four (prequel)]
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 4 months ago
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Hello love!! How are you doing? 💕
I LOVE your works so much!! You are so amazing and talented!! I wanted to thank you for writing the 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cursed technique Nanami fic, and especially not judging me for it 🫶🏽. I don’t know you but you seem like such a nice and cool person, with that being said… I was thinking about a fic I saw where Saturo Gojo got his wisdom teeth removed and he falls in love with you over again and I thought that would ADORABLE but with Kento 😭 (also I can’t remember who wrote the fic to give credit sorry) So like yeah Nanami would get his wisdom teeth removed and you’d take care of him and he would be such a charming man (he already is) but like just the most fluff thing he’d be like “you’re a very beautiful nurse” “I’m not a nurse but thank you” you feel me? Anyways that was it lol
Much love and take care!! 💗💗
(I don’t know what anon is 😅 is it like your followers cause I see request and people ask if they can be added as anon and I’m like so confused)
You’re my…. my wife?
Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, established relationship, crack, fluff, suggestive at the end.
An: Hey Anon! Tysm for requesting again. I’m glad you liked the freaky energy fic!! Also, ofc I’ll never judge you for any fic idea (as long as it’s not like straight up deplorable with nasty kinks).
I hope it’s okay, but I changed this fic idea a little because I fear it was a bit too close to the original creator’s idea, and I don’t want to encroach on their idea. However, I hope the vibes are still there that you wanted!!
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Your normally strong, doting, intelligent husband has been reduced to a confused mess. Lying in the bed in the sterile infirmary, Shoko carefully monitors his vitals while Satoru recites exactly how it all happened for the nth time.
Your loving, sweet, charming husband was hit with a very specific cursed technique while he was out on a mission with Gojo. Luckily, he was physically unharmed and mostly mentally unharmed as well… except the cursed technique is one that messes with the memory.
The curse didn’t just want to kill Nanami; it wanted to break him. The curse robbed Nanami of his memory of his most precious moments: the one’s that included you.
His hazel eyes scanned the room, wondering why everyone was making such a big fuss over him. He was fine - really.
You sat beside his hospital bed, wanting to hold his hand, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Shoko said that his mind may be a bit fragile after having such a crucial part of his memory tampered with.
When his hazel eyes met yours, Nanami stared at you for a moment before shifting in his bed slightly. He looked to be uncomfortable with your sheer presence, which only broke your heart more.
“Were you hit with the cursed technique too?” He finally speaks, looking over at you with a bit of a confused look. He was really trying to piece together why you were here with him.
“Oh, um… no..” You quietly respond with a forced smile. Your heart longed for your husband, and he was right here but he wasn’t your husband.
“Forgive me… Are you Shoko’s apprentice..?” He tries once again to remember. He’s seen your face before. Maybe in a different lifetime.
Satoru and Shoko are silent as they both witness what’s going on between you and Nanami. Holding their breaths, they’re hopeful that he’ll regain his memory at some point. The curse couldn’t just extract memories. As Shoko explained it, the curse probably just kept the memories hidden from Nanami. Your husband will probably slowly start to remember you over time.
“No… I’m not Shoko’s apprentice.” You politely answer again. As bittersweet as this is, it’s certainly a cute scene to see Kento trying to make conversation with you.
“Hm.” He hums to himself quietly before he gazes at you again. His hand combs through his hair, trying to fix it up from lying in the hospital bed, and Satoru quietly snickers.
“Trying to look good for her, Nanamin?” He teases lightheartedly, earning a death glare from your husband. You softly giggle too, realizing what’s going on. Your poor husband isn’t uncomfortable with your presence. He’s nervous.
“Don’t be crude, Satoru. There’s a lady in the room.” He huffs, shaking his head at Satoru’s audacity.
“Aww, thank you, Nanami.” Shoko grins, subtly playing along with Satoru’s tactic.
“I wasn’t talking about you.” Nanami responds flatly before his eyes shift to you in another “secretive” glance, except everyone notices how he keeps looking at you. Your husband can’t keep his eyes off of you.
“I.. apologize for being a bit forward, but do you think we could…” His eyes flicker down to the wedding band that’s proudly sat upon your finger. His face subtly drops to a disappointed look. “Ah, I see. forget what I was saying.”
Shoko and Satoru are nearly losing it. The irony that Nanami is disappointed that he can’t ask you out because you’re married to him is hilarious. You give them a look, and they both quickly excuse themselves from the room, so they can go laugh together.
Once the two are finally out of the room, you smile softly before placing your hand over your husband’s, using your thumb to gently stroke the back of his hand. He looks at you with an unsure look, but he doesn’t remove his hand. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly.
“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t like you touching another man like that…” He mutters quietly, causing you to softly giggle.
“Well, it’s a good thing I am your wife.” You finally reveal to him, unable to keep the secret any longer.
Nanami’s eyes widen, and he looks at you with sparkling eyes but also utter confusion written all over his face. His heart is racing in his chest. The heart monitor starts to beep at a more pressured pace. The pretty woman that has been sitting next to him is his wife…?
“You’re my… my wife?” He asks quietly.
“Mhm.” You hum in agreement before lacing your fingers with his. Your wedding band rubs against his. Both of the gems were cut from the same diamond. His eyes then focus on the joining of your hands, and he notices it too. “We’ve been married for a few years now.” You explain in a calm tone, trying to ease him into the idea of it all.
“I… I’m sorry… I don’t-“ Nanami is rarely off kilter like this, but he’s just trying to wrap his head around it all. You’re his wife… You’re his wife. “I’m sorry- I just can’t seem to remember…”
“It’s okay, Ken. Take your time.” You encourage as you rub on his hand gently.
His eyes fall to his lap, and a small smile curls on his lips. He may not completely comprehend what’s going on, but he knows in his very soul that he’s the luckiest man alive because you’re his wife.
Watching Ken fall in love with you all over again and rediscover all his daily pleasures was a treat. He slowly regained his memory over time: prompted by his senses randomly picking up on familiar sighs, smells, or even tastes.
Ken didn’t only fall in love with you all over again. He fell in love with the life he cultivated with you again. He found himself laughing a bit harder. He squeezed you a bit tighter. He lounged in bed for an extra ten minutes in the morning time to bask in your presence.
Oh, and that’s not to mention the literal tears he cried the first time he felt your cherished cunt after the incident. The way you squeezed around him so intensely… the way it’s so fucking wet — greedily sucking him in… Goddamn, he’s so lucky to have you.
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fruithoughts · 4 months ago
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PRINCESS TREATMENT
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‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤh. joshua x fem!reader  ⪩⪨
01.ㅤۗㅤ𝙼ember .  ⎯⎯⎯  joshua.
02.ㅤۗㅤ𝙲𝚆 .  ⎯⎯⎯ multiple pet names, possessive thoughts, mentions of blowjobs(m.) and sex, just a very gentle guy who loves his girl more than anything.
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⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua whose instagram is filled to the brim with pictures of his beautiful girl, sometimes he forgets to tag you but it’s okay because it takes no sherlock holmes to figure out your username since he only follows your account and a naruto fanpage. 
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who wants you to meet his parents in less than a month into the relationship, it’s extremely important to him to make it as clear as possible that he is serious about you, leaves no room for overthinking at all, always a step ahead of you in the “would you still love me if i was a worm?” department, the best boy indeed. 
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who would rather take a bullet than let you pay for literally anything, because how dare you even suggest paying for your own things? as if you don’t know the only reason he works so hard it’s exactly so he can pamper you endlessly? the absolute nerve of you, better get on your knees and start apologizing.
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who is the sassiest and most dramatic guy you’ve ever been with, but can not for the life of him handle the thought of you doing any work at all, in every aspect, which, ironically, sometimes makes you work even harder to get what you want.
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who makes it the world’s most difficult challenge to accept receiving head from you for the first time, he enjoys being the one doing all of the work to make you feel good, he just couldn’t see how blowing him off would please you at all so he kept denying(while completely ignoring the tent forming rapidly in his grey sweatpants) until you begged too sweetly, so softly, looking at him with so much adoration and love, like you wanted nothing more than to please him, he could have finished right there but instead he shook his head and sat down in the bed, ready to give his princess anything she could ever want, just like he promised he would! even if what she wanted was to kneel in front of him and try to fit his thick cock into her little mouth for a while.
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who uses every opportunity that stumbles across his way to show off his huge arms, it’s a win-win scenario, he gets to feel all hot and manly and you get to hold onto your boyfriend’s strong biceps everywhere you go and get carried on bride style after a night out that, honestly, didn’t even leave you that drunk, but since he offered to carry you, who would ever say no?
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who adores your nails and is always super excited to see the results of your nail appointments, asks for pictures during the whole process, sends you food when it’s taking too long, and finally when the nails are done, he’s there to pick you up in his shiny car, more than ready to do the last step of your nail day, which is putting them to the test, the scratch test. 
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who just can’t help but adore when you leave him all marked up, he loves it, and how can you blame him? was he supposed to be normal about having proof straight on his body of just how good he made you feel last night? how could you even consider he'd do such a thing? this man is not normal about you in general. 
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who knows your entire wardrobe like the back of his hand, half of it because he bought it, the other half because of how often he’s watching you, definitely a “i look at you more often than you think” kinda guy. he’s very proud of just how well he knows his baby.
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who remembers all of your food preferences and orders, knows all of your allergies, all of your icks and all of your friend’s gossips because he’s just so well behaved! he won't tell anyone, he never would! he's your joshy! you can trust him to keep all of your secrets, forever.
⪩⪨ boyfriend!joshua who’s very open about the fact that he wants to marry you, live the rest of your lives together, maybe with a kid if you’re into that, maybe just dogs if that’s better for you, he got his own wishes when it comes to creating a family, but at the end of the day; this man has one priority, and she has a name. whatever is best for you, it’s the best for him.
⪩⪨ husband!joshua who no matter how long it has passed since you got married, has not lost even a little bit of his obsession with you. his precious flower, his cute little thing, his darling, his sweet girl, that’s all you’ll ever be to him, all his to love and protect, forever.
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minhosimthings · 4 months ago
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Heaven and Back || SJY, PSH || 18+
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In which you buy leashes for your favourite pup and kitten.
Pairings: kittyHybrid!Sunghoon × puppyHybrid!Jake × sugarmommy!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, hoon and Jake are hybrids, not much hybrid stuff just tails and ears, dom!reader, sub!JakeHoon, threesome, anal sex, p in v, double penetration, oral (f and m), leashes (on JakeHoon), degradation, praise, swearing, choking, breath play, masturbating (m), reader is Jakehoon's sugar mommy, unprotected sex (not for you), edging, cumming inside, use of 'mommy', includes Yunjin of Lessreafim, reader is LOADED
A/N this is most probably the longest smut I've ever written and the subbiest smut I've written too lol. Shout out to my irl bestie for very nicely instructing me about leashes (he nearly killed me). This is specially dedicated to my beloved unhinged murder kitten child @jaeyunluvr. So I hope she likes this! And I hope you all love this too! Ciao my babies💖
Song Rec: Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic
Word count: 8K (my apologies in advance)
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“Whose great idea was it to visit this place again?” Yunjin tilted her head back at you, “Because I am never leaving.” 
“Freak.” You chuckled, running your hand through some soft foam objects of whose purpose you had no idea, “And it was my great idea, thank you very much.” Yunjin turned to you holding up a million scrunchies in her hands.
“Buy these for me.” She said with a dead-pan face making you burst into laughter, “Oh come on, you’re rich enough,” She looked greedily down at the velvety hair-ties, “Please, mommy?” 
“Huh Yunjin, never call me that ever again.” You said in between snorts of laughter, “Plus, I’m here for some more expensive stuff.” 
“Babe, we’re in a literal sex store.” Yunjin said, eyeing some very pink vibrators hanging in the corner, “Everything here is expensive.”
“Fuck capitalism dude.” You sighed, walking deeper into the large store. Everything In there transported you into a retro-american Lana Del Rey music video, with nostalgic pinks, reds and blues covering every inch of it. You wondered mindlessly what on earth scrunchies were doing at a place like this, when you heard Yunjin gasp.
“Y/N look!” She said excitedly like a child in a candy shop, “Look at these beauties.” You followed your eyes up to where she was pointing, and softly chuckled, sleeping your hands into the pockets of your pants.
Leashes.
Gloriously long, magnificently coloured, leashes.
“Are you alright hun?” You said, raising your hand up to pull one of the black coloured ones down from its hanger, “It's not like you to suggest leashes.” Your fingers toyed with the metal chain of the scandalous thing in your hand. You tugged at the price tag to see how much the gorgeous thing was worth.
After all, you only wanted the best for your boys.
“Well isn't this cheap?” You handed the leash to Yunjin who widened her eyes and looked at you as if you had gone positively insane.
“Cheap?” She whispered dramatically, “150 dollars is cheap to you?” She scoffed before she put the leash back on its hanger, “Damn mommy, you are rich.” 
“Careful Jinnie, you’re still my assistant.” You chuckled, as you pulled your hands out of your pockets and placed one each on your hip, “Well, I think I’m gonna take two of these.”
“For the boys?” Yunjin asked, putting a thoughtful finger to her chin, “Hmm..I think the blue one and the white one will be nice!”
“Good eye.” You complimented her, letting her pull those ones off. You took the white one in your hand, which had a little bow attached to it, thinking about how cute Jake would look in it. The blue would certainly suit Sunghoon, what with his porcelain skin suiting almost any and every colour.
“Should I go and ring them up then?” Yunjin asked to which you nodded.
“Oh and Jinnie.” You called just as she was about to leave, “Get as many scrunchies as you want.”
Yunjin smiled at you brightly and skipped off to find scrunchies in her favourite colour, leaving you alone to explore more of the shop. From the exterior of the shop, you would never have guessed that it was such a large one, with the endless rows of goodies never coming to a stop. You ought to have brought Jake and Sunghoon here one day; you knew they’d certainly enjoy it. 
From the day you’d met both of them, you’ve practically been inseparable. Being a hot-shot business woman in an industry dominated by old men and young fools took a toll on your mental health. If only you had someone to help you take all that stress out. It was Yunjin who had convinced you to follow the ridiculous idea of having a sugar baby–or perhaps even two.
And that was how a puppy-hybrid Jake and kitten-hybrid Sunghoon came into your life, eagerly helping you relieve your stress after a long day signing paperwork and calculating the misogyny. But they had grown into more than just average sex toys. They were also the careful and safe arms that you could slip into whenever you needed to, the gentle hands that would run through your hair on a peaceful night, and the peculiar minds who could convince you to take a break everytime you were on the verge of bleeding through your nose.
So you obviously had to get them a present for your two-year anniversary right?
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
Sunghoon’s hand trembled as he carefully set the last edible flower onto the thick buttercream. The cake had to be perfect, so he had started decorating it as soon as it cooled down. He knew you loved violas the most, so he tried to make the flowers look as much as violas as possible. He wondered if Jake was done with whatever he was doing, when the younger man walked into the room.
“The bedroom’s done!” Jake announced proudly, his fluffy golden ears in excitement as he  dropped into a chair by the kitchen island, “She’s gonna love it.”
“I hope so.” Sunghoon sighed, taking his apron off, “I had to beg Yunjin to tell me what cake she likes best.”
“To think that it’s been two years and she still doesn't tell us her favourite foods.” Jake scoffed, eyeing the cake with hunger behind his eyes, “But that’s Y/N for you.” 
“Jake, those puppy eyes aren't gonna get you a bite of this.” Sunghoon picked the cake up and walked over to the main dining table, where he carefully set it down, “This is for my beloved and my beloved only.”
“Our beloved.” Jake corrected, “Man, she’s done so much for us in the past few years, I hope we can repay the favour.” Sunghoon laughed at the sight of Jake’s golden yellow tail wagging jovially, as it often did whenever Jake thought about you, Sunghoon’s own sleek, thin, black tail lay resting, swishing about every now and then. His black ears sat atop his head patiently, waiting for the sound of the door opening. 
“When do you think she’ll be home?” Sunghoon said with an impatient tone to his voice, “The cake will–” Before he could finish his sentence however, his observant ears swooped up, pointing out the kitchen door. The sound of the door creaking open alerted Jake as well, who was out of the room faster than Sunghoon could say a word. 
Jake’s feet led him straight out into the hallway, where you stood, taking off your coat and hanging it up, you had a shopping bag in your hand and a mischievous smile on your face as you turned to him and opened your arms for a hug, which Jake ran straight into. 
“I missed you.” Jake whined as you wrapped your arms around him tighter, with one of your hands even going up to scratch behind his ears.
“She’s only been gone half a day Jake.” You looked up to see Sunghoon leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, “You’ve handled worse than that havent you?”
‘Don’t be so rough on him, Hoon.” You chuckled, walking up to him, “You’re not better either.” Sunghoon’s mouth closed as soon as it was open, when your fingers ran through the fur of his ears, slowly scratching it. You smirked when his eyes closed for a second, letting himself melt into the warmth of your gentle touch. Which he knew could turn rough at any moment.
“Why does the entire house smell like chamomile?” You said, to which Jake meekly smiled and Sunghoon rolled his eyes.
“That would be his amazing decoration skills.” Sunghoon grunted, his tail swishing around lazily, “Are you hungry?” He quickly diverted the topic, which brought your attention back to your grumbling stomach. You nodded, to which Sunghoon smiled and led you into the dining room, with Jake following behind. 
“Ta-da!” Jake exclaimed as soon as you lay your eyes on the cake set on the dining table, “Hoon made it all by himself.” His tail wagged speedily, compared to Sunghoon. Though you had to admit that Sunghoon’s ears, which were dropped to hide his flushed face, were far more adorable.
“A slice, my queen?” Sunghoon said, his eyes instantly cringing in shame at his words. 
“Wow......” You chuckled, sitting down on the chair that Jake had pulled out for you, “You made this for me?”
Sunghoon shyly nodded, though his tail betrayed him by rising up in pride. It certainly did have a mind of its own. In order to hide his blushing cheeks, Sunghoon quickly slipped into the kitchen to retrieve a knife to cut the cake. He was greeted with the sight of Jake excitedly rambling about his day to you when he came back. 
You giggled, nodding dramatically as he cut out a large slice of the cream-coloured cake and placed it on the plate, nudging it towards you. Jake’s eyes followed you with rapt attention as you brought a piece upto your mouth, eating it slowly so as to fully understand the flavour. Sunghoon had done well, in your opinion; it tasted heavenly. 
“Well?” Sunghoon looked at you with hesitation, twiddling his thumbs.
“You’re making this everyday from now on.” You laughed, setting your fork down. The two men laughed along, keeping their eyes set on you to track your every move.
Smirking to yourself, you casually dipped your finger into the thick frosting of your slice of cake, making sure your finger was evenly coated in it, before licking it, very slowly, with your slender tongue. You were quite sure that you heard Jake whimper beside you.
“Want some, Jakey?” You raised a brow at him.
 Dipping your finger once more, you raised it up to Jake’s salivating mouth, which he generously took. Leaning forward, the dog-eared man took the entirety of your finger into his mouth, gently sucking on it. You felt your skin prickle by the way his tongue swirled around.
“That’s enough, baby.” You said gently, though to Jake, it sounded more like a command, “We’ve gotta let Hoon have a turn too, hm?” Jake silently obeyed, looking at you with the same wide eyes, with his fluffy ears positively dying to be scratched. But you wouldn't give him that satisfaction just yes.
Turning your back to him, you came face to face with a droopy eared Sunghoon, who was evidently jealous of the attention his fellow hybrid was getting. Instead of dipping your finger into the frosting, this time, you led your hand up to his ears, scratching behind them again. But this time, your fingers lingered to his hair, eventually reaching to the back of his head, where you kept massaging it. Hard as he tried, Sunghoon failed to not fall into a trance, absolutely sinking into the comfort of your hands. You moved closer to him.
“My sweet boys.” You chuckled, pulling at his hair gently, which made him purr softly, “You’ve been so good for mommy all day, haven’t you?” 
“Y-yes mommy.” Sunghoon whispered, as you pulled his hair rougher this time. You chuckled again, releasing his hair so suddenly that he didn't open his eyes, until after a minute or so. When he did, he looked flabbergasted that you had deprived him of his pleasure. 
Both the men sat silently as you reached over to grab the shopping bag you’d brought with you; in the excitement to show you the cake, they had completely forgotten to ask you what was in it. They decided to ignore that question though, when you pulled out the most unexpected items out from the bag.
Jake and Sunghoon sat dumb-struck as they stared at the things you had set in front of them. It appeared to be…..leashes?
“You know what they are, my darlings?” You asked them to which they nodded, “Then you’ll know what to do with them I suppose?” Another round of nodding; you smiled, “Good.” You stood up from your seat and started for the kitchen door, but not before placing a sweet kiss to each of their foreheads. 
“I’ll have a shower and I’ll get to bed.” You said before exiting the room, “Get dolled up for me.” You winked, before racing up to the master bedroom, leaving Jake and Sunghoon alone with their new toys.
They looked at each other hesitantly before grabbing one each and hurrying off to the bedroom.
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You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water hit your skin, instantly providing relaxation to your tight muscles. Talking about numbers and inflation rates all day stressed you out, so a hot shower was your go to as soon as you reached home. Usually one of the boys joined you, most often Jake since Sunghoon fell asleep quite easily, betraying his feline qualities. You always loved Jake in the shower though; he was always so full of energy for you and the way his fluffy golden tail and floppy ears tickled you pink during a wet session made you extra sleepy, so much so that you were as dead as a log the minute your skin touched the sheets. 
You laughed to yourself at the distant memory of Jake accidentally making you sneeze in the shower when some of his fur got into your nose. Picking up your shampoo bottle, you squeezed some onto your hand, spreading it into your scalp with deep, massaging movements that made you relax even more. But then again you couldn't wait to get out and see how the boys looked in their new clothes.
Meanwhile, outside the bathroom—
“How the fuck is this supposed to work.” Jake stared down at whatever the thing was in his hands, “I thought she was getting us some necklaces or something.”
“Technically these are necklaces.” Sunghoon spoke slowly, looking down at his blue leash with the same confused expression, his naked chest rising and falling slowly, “Have you figured out how it opens yet?”
“Do I look like a scientist to you?” Jake said, frowning when Sunghoon jokingly ruffled his head, “Hey, don’t mess it up! I combed it specifically for Y/N.” 
“Hmm…don’t care.” Sunghoon chuckled, his tail reaching up to tickle Jake’s shins, “How about we put these on each other? Maybe that’ll help us figure it out?”
Though Jake didn't understand the plan to understand the leashes, he nodded, getting onto his knees on the bed, so as to reach Sunghoon’s height. He grabbed the blue object out of Sunghoon’s hands and studied it for a moment, before raising it up and trying to force it down onto his friend’s cat ears. Sunghoon groaned.
“You really are dumb.” He said, rubbing the place Jake was putting so much pressure on, “Try pulling that strap there, maybe it’ll open up.” Jake obeyed promptly, taking the baby-blue strap and tugging on it as gently as he could, to his surprise, the collar widened.
“It worked!” Jake exclaimed, as Sunghoon looked on with a smug smile, “ Stay still, I’ll put it on you!” 
Sunghoon bent forward in order to allow Jake to slip the leather piece on comfortably. He pulled at the strap again and coughed loudly when the collar suddenly tightened up, almost choking Sunghoon.
“What the fuck?!” Sunghoon exclaimed, freeing himself by pulling the strap yet again, “Did she get these things to kill us or something?” He shook his head, in order to keep his ears from zooming all over the place, “Fucking hell, I am not wearing that for her!”
“What are you not wearing for me, Hoonie?”
Sunghoon was always a sensitive man, with his feline features contributing to ninety percent of his sensitivity. He could always sense a thunderstorm or a shift in the atmosphere merely with his tail. That was how he was able to grasp the change in the air as you entered the room, wearing a velvety, pink robe that slipped off of your right shoulder. His eyes gravitated to your chest, where the flimsy material of the robe did nothing to hide your perked up nipples. Jake gulped loudly next to him.
“Now don’t you look adorable?” You laughed, walking towards them slowly, like a predator towards its prey. Yunjin was right in choosing the colours. Jake looked positively gorgeous in the white, whilst Sunghoon’s skin seemed to enjoy the light blue.
Your hand gravitated naturally to Jake’s ears as you reached the foot of the bed, where the both of them sat, with Jake on his knees. He let out an audible whine as you scratched behind his eyes, his tail wagging up and down rapidly and hitting the bed with soft thumps. You smiled at him.
“So needy..” You teased climbing onto the bed, prompting Jake to go back further, until he reached the bed frame. Sunghoon remained in his position. You looked back at him, stopping in your crawling position.
“Aren’t you gonna join us, Hoonie?” Your low, sultry voice combined with your hooded, almost droopy eyes made Sunghoon’s heart jump. He knew you could probably see his erection from his boxers by now, but he didnt care. Swiftly pulling his legs up, he crawled over next to you, immediately going for your lips. You shifted back as he kissed you, one of your hands on the bed, while the other located the leash’s strap. Smirking into the wet kiss, you allowed Sunghoon to enjoy the tantalising feeling, before pulling harshly on the strap.
“Naughty baby.” You cooed, as Sunghoon shut his eyes at the occluding sensation of the collar around his beautiful neck, “You didn't even ask for permission to kiss mommy.” 
“..m sorry, m-mommyy..” He drawled out, his voice restricted by the leash around his neck.
Your eyes lit up at the sight of Sunghoon’s neck veins becoming more visible by the minute. You loosened your grasp around the strap for a moment letting him breathe. His chest heaved up and down, taking a deep breath, before you leaned in, your robe now completely off of your upper body as your lips attacked his. 
“Hmm…you taste like sugar.” You chuckled, at the sight of his big black ears drooping down as you pulled away, his eyes round and wide as he begged you to relieve him of the throbbing pain in his pants. He swore he heard the threads of his boxers rip.
You glanced to your side at Jake, grinning when you saw his big puppy eyes, and wagging tail trying to distract you from Sunghoon. You let go of Sunghoon’s hair much to his disappointment and crawled over closer to Jake, getting on top of him, before leaning in and kissing behind his ear.
“You missed me today didn't you, pup?” You cooed at him as if he was an actual baby. Jake nodded, his tail bouncing off again at the scent of your perfume. He wanted nothing more than to make you feel good at the moment. But he knew well enough that he had to wait obediently for your permission.
You were about to lean in again for a kiss, when you felt the sensation of soft lips sucking on your bare shoulder. Jake’s attention, which was earlier on your naked breasts, went straight to the purring cat behind you, who was sucking on your shoulder with his teeth. Sunghoon’s chest pressed against your back, and you could practically feel how desperate he was getting, what with his boner rubbing on your ass through his boxers.
“Sunghoon…” You mumbled, turning your head back to look at him. There he was again, with his big eyes begging you for salvation, but you wouldn't let him have it. Not so soon.
“You’re a good boy for me, yeah?” You smiled at him, grabbing his chin with your fingers and tilting it towards you, “How about you go lay down next to Jake hmm?”
Sunghoon didn’t need another word from your tongue to obey, quickly pouncing onto the bed and laying his head down next to Jake on the pillow. His muscles relaxed into the soft material of the sheets, and he could feel Jake’s body heat next to him. The rapid thumping of the heart of the pup was heard as well, his sharp ears picking up almost everything.
“Now…” You smiled warmly, catching the both of them off guard, “you’ll be alright with keeping these on right?” Jake felt the collar round his neck constrict; he realised soon enough that you were tugging on it with straps you held in your hands.
“Anything for you.” Jake heard Sunghoon purr, his own leash restricting his vocal cords. Jake shivered as your hand, still clutching the strap of his leash reached up to brush against his thigh. 
You shifted closer to the golden-furred man, forcing him to spread his legs as you accommodated yourself between them, on your knees. Sunghoon watched on silently, muffling his moans every time your hand tugged on his leash. He hated how much he loved the feeling of his breath being obstructed by you.
Hooking your fingers into each side of Jake’s boxers, you pulled them off in one swift go to reveal his throbbing cock; it was already drenched in pre-cum with the angry red tip beckoning you to calm it down. You looked up at Jake, whose face was contorted in pain at the feeling of the collar round his neck. You were enjoying this a bit too much, seeing Jake writhe in a cocktail of pain as well as pleasure everytime you ‘accidentally’ tugged a little too hard. 
“Shh, be a good boy now.” You cooed at him, watching him yelp when you tugged harshly at his leash, his head sprang up from the pillow, being pulled by the force of your tight grip round the strap, “Hoonie baby…” You looked over at the purring Sunghoon, whose ears were sprang up in rapt attention, “You wouldn't mind touching yourself while I taste Jakey hm?”
“Yes.” Sunghoon gulped, moving to take his boxers off, when he suddenly felt blood rush to his ears and oxygen flow to his brain. Before he knew it, he was mere inches from your face, having been pulled up by you from his leash–you were definitely stronger than you thought you were–and Sunghoon was loving every minute of it.
“Yes what?” You whispered, your hot breath fanning on Sunghoon’s face.
“Yes........mommy.” Sunghoon rasped out, his eyes practically begging you to tug his leash harder. But you merely let it go, making him fall back onto the bed. He didn't say anything after that, letting you get your attention back to Jake, as he removed his boxers. You glanced at his cock, leaky, red, throbbing, and huge; his once light pink tip was a flashy lighter red and his balls were hardened—waiting to be touched by your masterful hands. But Sunghoon knew he had to wait as obediently and as patiently as he could. Only then would you give him his reward.
Meanwhile, your scrutiny was back on Jake. He felt his skin erupt into goose-pimples at your fiery gaze, your robe was already off now, and at the glimpse of your belly button and labia, Jake’s cock hardened even more. You sank down to your stomach in front of him, your sultry eyes visible to him above his tummy.
“Mmm, so big and hard for me,” You purred, giving his cock a slow stroke, your eyes locked on his as you savoured the feeling of him in your hand. A whimper leapt out of Jake’s mouth, his tail wagging profusely at the pleasurable feeling. God he could have died right there and then.
“M-Mommy please…” He begged, thought it came out more as a long whine. You chuckled, massaging his cock with your hand, while your other hand stayed on Sunghoon’s leash. 
“Please what, baby?” 
Jake’s heart raced as you prepared, wanting to savour every moment. But he hadn’t said his magic words yet. 
“Need you to–oh!”  With a groan, Jake leaned into your tightening hold on his length, pulsing and achingly hard for you, “Need you to suck my dick.” He whined in an unusually high pitched voice, “Please mommy?” He added as if it was an afterthought, with huge puppy eyes and ears that bounced off of his head.
“Good boy.” You smirked, stroking up and down his shaft, causing him to slowly exhale as your hand rubbed up and down his length. He whined as you licked the thick and prominent veins on his dick and practically made out with his pink and leaky tip. You didn't forget to tug on Sunghoon’s leash either, his lazy tail catching your eye.
The both of them let out a moan simultaneously, their voices blending together to create the perfect harmony.
You took Jake into your mouth, the warmth enveloping him as you hollowed your cheeks and sank down as far as you could go. The feeling of him stretching your lips made you moan, sending vibrations that only spurred him on further.
As Jake’s body shuddered, he groaned deeply, his cock pulsing in your mouth. “Fuuuck!” he shouted, the sound reverberating through the room. A strained groan left his throat again and his head fell back in pleasure. You pushed some of him into your throat to gag, earning more spit to pump the rest of his length with.
Meanwhile, now with an already strained arm, a shiver runs down Sunghoon’s spine- all the way to his throbbing erection held so tightly in his right hand. He purrs softly as his thumb touches the little spot on his balls that drives him practically insane. He keeps rubbing on that one point, imagining that it was you, who was giving him so much pleasure.
The material of the leash’s collar loosens around him—evidently you forgot to tug on it. He presses himself harder against it, moaning loud enough for you to glance up at him. For a split second, Sunghoon’s eyes land on yours and you smirk, tugging the leash gently.
“H-Harder.” He whines, rubbing his thumb across the divot on his tip, “Harder mommy pleeease..” 
Caught up in sucking Jake off, you obliged, and pulled harshly, your hands becoming red and calloused by how tight of a grip you had on the leash as Sunghoon’s wet fingers glided up and down his length. 
With a desperate thrust, Jake filled your mouth completely, bringing your attention back to his shivering figure, and you felt the warmth of his cum coating your tongue. 
The moment stretched on, electric and intoxicating, as you relished the feeling of being so utterly consumed by his need.
Jake’s cock brushed the back of your throat, and you felt him pulse in your mouth, a telltale sign of his impending release.
With that, you took him in your mouth once more, eager to please him, to give him what he craved. You felt a rush of power coursing through you as you worked him, your fingers tracing along the base as your mouth worked diligently.
“Fuckkkk,” he hissed, his voice strained, each word dripping with desire. “I’m so close mommy…”
Your pace quickened and his breathing got faster. His cock slammed into the back of your throat causing you to gag on it. Your free hand wandered to his lower back as support. As he fucked your throat harder and harder your choking became louder and louder which only made him hornier.
Then his hand came grasping your head as hard as possible before he pushed your head up and down his length at a medium tempo, causing him to groan even louder and grip even harder. His thick cock  shoved into your throat at once made you choke and breathe heavily. Your spit trickled down your chin and onto the sheets.
You increase your speed, bobbing up and down while keeping your teeth away from his tender flesh. Your jaw is gradually growing tired, but you're committed to this. You try swirling your tongue around him as you move, and it looks like you've made the right choice by the way his noises become more and more desperate.
Now, Sunghoon was fucking his cock like he had a point to prove, snapping his wrist as he brought his free hand off of his thigh, swiping the digits across his dick while he soaked the others to the knuckle. A startled, strangled moan of your name leaves his lips, the loud sounds of his pleasure echoing as he fisted his cock the best he could.
Maybe it was the view of you giving Jake all he wanted, or maybe it was because of how pent up he was, but it didn’t take another stroke before Sunghoon could feel his heavy balls tighten, throbbing in his own tight grasp. He had to make himself cum, needed to before Jake blew his load too soon. Your hand pulls the leash urgently, jerky little moves that have his hips bucking into his fist haphazardly.
With a few more eager motions, Sunghoon’s breathing quickened, his body tensing as he teetered on the brink. 
Hot ropes of cum surged forth, flooding the sheets and his fingers. He kept pumping greedily, unwilling to let go of his high. Savouring every drop, his eyes locked onto your figure, as you pulled the leash even harder, wanting to milk every last bit from him. He couldn't breathe at this point but he felt that he didn't even need to, the breathlessness only adding to the impact of his drasticorgasm.
“Oh fucking hell…” Sunghoon panted, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Fuckk—thank you—mommy….” He whispered the last words, though he knew you probably couldn't hear them, as you were focused on making Jake cum.
“Fuck! ” Jake cried, his voice a mixture of pleasure and raw need. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside, his hips jerking as he released a torrent of hot cum down your throat.
Waves of warmth filled your mouth, and you struggled to swallow it all as he groaned, his body shuddering with each intense wave of pleasure.
“God, yes! Just like that!” he whined, a few tears escaping from his eyes as he closed them shut, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. 
You felt a thrill rush through you as you swallowed, savouring the taste of him, the salty flavour satisfying you just enough to give an extra tug to Sunghoon’s leash. You looked up to see two pairs of shaggy ears standing up straight with soft fur shivering as both the boys worked through their respective orgasms.
Slowly but surely, you pulled away from Jake, your mouth feeling a bit sorer than before. You heard a distinct, shuddering sigh escaping from Jake’s throat. You couldn't tell if it was one of tiredness or one of disappointment–that you had stopped working on his pleasure.
“Tired, pup?” You cocked your head to the side, wiping your mouth with your hands. Jake’s eyes fluttered open, his long eyelashes looking up at you with firm determination. He was ready to do anything to make sure your cunt was nice and warm by the time you went to bed. But to his dismay, your gaze wavered over to Sunghoon.
“Kittyy..” You said in a sing-song voice, “Mommy hasn't been giving you much this evening has she?” You chuckled at the sight of his pout, his brows furrowed and his eyes droopy. Evidently he longed to have a taste of your touch, having been so deprived of it since you had only paid attention to the pup next to him all evening.
“Want you so bad, mommy.” He said, or rather whined, “Please…I’ll do anything.” You smirked at his wide eyes, so full of stars and hope. You didn't want to disappoint him this time.
Crawling up to him, you twisted the strap of his leash around your fingers, pulling it to make him sit up to your level. You climbed onto his lap with ease, ignoring his throbbing dick which was dying to get inside of your pussy. 
“You’ll do anything huh?” You smiled, leaning in to peck him on his rosy cheeks, “How about…lending mommy some of your tongue?”
Sunghoon’s smile faded a little as he realised he wasn't about to get his erection dumbed down. Nevertheless, he nodded eagerly, pecking you on the cheek as well, to which you giggled.
“Oh you naughty kitty!” You laughed, reaching up to caress his hair and fur, “Touching me without permission.” You ran your fingers through his lush hair, scratching his scalp every now and then. You could hear him purr softly, the heat from him warming you up and his tail swooped around to touch your back. You smiled at the tickling sensation. 
Wrapping your arms around his waist, you managed to manoeuvre him into letting you slide into bed, while he got on top of you. You glanced sideways to see Jake still panting from his high, his eyes tirelessly fighting sleep. From your sleeping position, you reached out a hand to stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin deliquesce into your touch.
“I’ll get back to you, pup.” You cooed, now seeing that his breathing was more normal and his ears were twitching to the sound of your voice.
Your eyes snapped back to Sunghoon, when you felt the brush of his feather-soft lips on your neck. It soon turned into a harsher one, wet and dirty, with his saliva dripping down the curve of your neck. You clicked your tongue.
“Dirty, dirty boy, Sunghoon.” You said, trying to hide the amusement in your voice, “Shouldn't you save that for my pussy?”
“Sorry mommy..” Sunghoon mumbled, still attaching your neck with his lips, “can’t resist it.”
 Before you could open your mouth to say anything, Sunghoon gripped your waist with his hands, momentarily forgetting who was incharge. His mouth kissed all the way down your body, vacationing for a while at the valley of your breasts. You knew he was fighting his demons not to suck your hardened nipples; he had enough self control within him to ask for your permission to do that.
But Sunghoon seemed to forget all about your tits as soon as he saw your cunt, all wet and dripping with juices just for him to lap up. His ears twitched when he heard you chuckle at his stunned expression. You reached your hand down to pat him on the head, gripping his hair tightly for only a second before letting go. He would have loads of that later on.
“You wanna make mommy feel good, kitty?” Sunghoon nodded at your statement; he locked eyes with you as you smirked, collapsing onto the pillow soon after, “Then suck mommy dry.”
You tense as soon as you say the sentence. Your hips immediately grind down against his face. You always loved Sunghoon’s tongue better than Jake’s, the long ever-energetic flesh fitting inside your pussy like a key in a lock.
And the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on your soaked pussy drove you insane. You moaned much louder than you meant to, but you couldn't help it. He apparently knew exactly what he was doing, because this felt magical.
“G-Good boy—oh fuck!” Your words struggled to escape out from your mouth. Your hand tried to grip the sheets, but it was obstructed by something.
The leash.
In your moment of sudden intoxication, you had forgotten all about it. You gave it an experimental tug and immediately felt Sunghoon moan in the most obscene way possible, his hot breath fanning your sensitive pussy. He kept groaning as his throat tightened up, struggling to get air inside. And yet his erection only grew larger.
With every grind and suckle on your clit you were getting closer and closer to cumming. It was a wet and filthy experience, your arousal dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and soaking his face. You could feel it down your thighs, his chin scratching against your delicate skin with every jaw movement, every grind.
You didn't know what to do with your free hand, so they latched onto his hair, pulling tightly. So tightly, in fact, that he groaned. And his voice against your body felt like it was vibrating. 
“Oh fuck—Sunghoon!” You cried, accidentally pulling the leash, “Keep—keep doing that…that’s a g-good kitty.” Sunghoon moaned into your cunt again, making you grunt with satisfaction. You could feel your orgasm approaching.
You let out a string of gasps; low, breathy sounds that made Sunghoon’s heart flutter while he stroked your walls, still frantically trying to find friction against the bed to quell the ache in his own core.
“‘Taste so gooood,” Sunghoon moans in a way that's almost pornographic, tongue dipping down to gather up your slick. “‘taste so sweet mommy, shiiiitttt.”
He licked a stripe up your vulva, his tongue flat and getting every inch of your pussy till he reached your clit where he wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked. Sunghoon felt a sense of pride rushing through him. He revelled in the fact that he knew how to make your body feel good, how to make you feel good. Your pussy clenched around nothing as he started flicking his tongue against you. Your faintly opened eyes could see Sunghoon’s tail high up in the air, swishing around proudly.
"Oh god, I think I'm gonna–" 
You're cut off by an enormous tidal wave of bliss crashing into you. The way his lips sucked on your clit always had you almost passing out when you came.
 Your breath catches in your throat, before releasing in an obscenely loud moan. Your legs begin to shake, and you feel your insides clench against Sunghoon’s notorious tongue. Stars fill your vision. This has to be the best thing you've ever experienced in your life, there's nothing else like it on earth.
Your hands worked hard to pull Sunghoon’s hair, wrenching him closer to you, so that his tongue could be buried fully inside your throbbing cunt. Sunghoon moans again—it's a vulgar scene—with his nose bumping against your labia. You tasted so amazing, like a delicacy which he wanted to devour as if he were a man starved of love.
Sunghoon laps up your juices that drip down like a waterfall from the crevices of your pussy. Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, encourage him, lazily scratching his fur. You could see the goosebumps that erupt on his skin as you did so.
“Come ‘ere.” You mumbled, tapping your thigh. Sunghoon obeyed promptly, getting to your thigh faster than you could say anything else.
“Mommy I—”
You lean in hastily, connecting his lips with yours to effectively shut him up. His body barrels into yours, pushing you further into the bed. The leash is abandoned as you stroke your fingertips along the tender skin of his neck, sighing into his mouth through the deep kiss.
“Hoonie..” You said in a saccharine tone, “You made mommy feel so good, you know?” You felt his body tense up from the praise, as he continued to kiss down your neck; you smirked, “But I think I want more.” Your tone was sultry, beckoning to Sunghoon’s ear as you whispered your words to him. His dick was more than ready to be corrupted by your amazing pussy, but he waited on for your permission.
“You wanna give mommy your cock hm?” You questioned, tracing your hand up to the back of his ears and scratching it. Sunghoon’s eyes closed above you, there was not a single thought in his mind. It was you, and only you.
And before you knew it you were throwing your head back, a soft moan slipping past your lips as you grasped his broad shoulders, trying to steady yourself while your body moved on instinct—grinding and bouncing in a messy, desperate rhythm that sent shivers up your spine. 
"Oh, fuck—so biggg," you muttered breathlessly, your voice shaky, pleasure washing over every inch of you.
“You’re—fuck–so tight mommy.” Sunghoon groaned, feeling your pussy immediately mould to the shape of his cock. The stretch was incredible, waves of arousal shooting up your spine with every inch he sunk them in, your cunt fluttering around the swell.
“Ah-ahh–fucking hell!” Sunghoon whined, forcing his cock down your hole.
You cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. There’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. Waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. He’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep within his chest.
In an attempt to grab the sheets, your hand accidentally brushed against warm skin. You glanced to your side and there you spotted him, with his eyes snapped shut.
Jake.
You smirked.
“Jake—Jakeyy..” You chuckled, through the stretch Sunghoon was providing you, effectively jolting Jake awake. His hair was all messy and his ears were laid on one another; he blinked up at you slowly and then he widened his eyes at the vulgar sight in front of him.
“Won't you join us, pup?” You said, muffling a moan. God damn did Sunghoon’s dick drive you bonkers. 
Jake shifted in his positions; sleep was still heavy on his eyelids and to be completely honest, he didnt really want to fuck you. Rather shameful for him, really.
“‘m tired mommy…” He groaned, begging you to let him go for the night. Sunghoon would have been more than enough for you. But from the look on your face and the fact that Sunghoon had stopped moving and was now looking at him, Jake knew he wasn't going to get any shut-eye.
Your fingers fiddled around the sheets, with your gaze fixed on Jake’s, until you felt it in your hands.
Jake’s leash.
Thinking back to it, you realised that you hadn't really had any fun this evening with Jake and his pretty white leash with a bow. The bow looked so adorable on him, so enchanting, so submissive.
Clasping the strap in your hand, you pulled roughly, surprised that you still had energy in you. Jake let out a gasp and slid closer to you, by God did you enjoy this. Thick veins appeared on the curve of his neck and his tail started wagging uncontrollably fast, like it had a mind of its own. 
“Tch Tch.” You clicked your tongue, Sunghoon let out a cold laugh, “Already so tired? Come on now pup, mommy’s trained you better than that.”
“But–”
“Then again, you don’t want to make mommy feel good do you?” You sighed, you were getting more fun out of this than Sunghoon’s dick buried deep in your gaping hole, “You’re being such a bad boy, pup.” 
“No!” Jake defended himself, looking at you with pleasing eyes, “No mommy......I want to make you feel good!” He whimpered when you tugged him closer to you, the fresh scent of his body lotion filing your nostrils, “Give me another chance, please?”
You grinned at him and let out a laugh, forcing your gaze back to Sunghoon. He understood what you wanted immediately and carefully manoeuvred your body to get on your side, with his hands grabbing your waist. You looked back at Jake and winked.
Before you could give an order, or rather attempt one, you found Jake's mouth on your neck, those sharp teeth digging into the top layer of your flesh. 
At the same moment you attempted to speak his name, Jake pushed himself in, your walls not ready for such a protrusion, but the pup didn't care, not at the moment. Right now, he stared Sunghoon down over your shoulder, glazed eyes meeting his cold black ones. 
With Jake’s chest pressed firmly against your back, Sunghoon’s hands dancing on your waist, and two thick cocks filling up both your holes you finally allowed yourself to let out an explicitly loud moan. It was music to Jake and Sunghoon’s ears—-confirmation that they had made you feel good. It also served as permission for them to move.
“Shit—squeezin me so–so good mommy,” Sunghoon grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. He’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into your skin. You clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.
Jake’s pleading tone returned, his breath hot against your ear. “Feels so nice…..d-do you feel that mommy?” he whimpered.
“Yes–oh fucking hell!” You gasp, moaning so loudly that you felt sorry for your neighbours, “Making me feel so—ahhh–ah!” Your sentence wasn't to be finished, as two sets of teeth started sucking on the skin of your collarbone and your back. That primal instinct rose within Jake and Sunghoon–the instinct to tear flesh. But you didn't mind of course. You only felt your cunt get wetter.
“G-good boys–doing so good for me…” you murmured, your voice softening just enough to send a rush of heat straight to their cores, igniting their tails, “Doing so good for mommy.”
Their possessiveness only heightened the sensation, making them cling to you tighter as your body quivered with need.  Every thrust pushed you closer to the brink, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge, waiting for that final push.
You ended up moving your hands to Sunghoon’s shoulder to hold on to him better as both the men  thrusted more erratically.  Before you could notice, they ended up digging into his shoulder muscle deeply. An animalistic moan ripped from his chest as he felt your nails draw blood. His hips moved on their own, in and out, into your warmth and out for a split second before plunging back into you faster and deeper than before. It was like his hips were moving faster than his mind could keep up, and the only thing he could think about was you. 
“Don’t hold back…that's it,” You groan as you feel Jake’s cock immediately pick up speed. 
Jake’s eyes close in pleasure and he starts to kiss your neck again, driving his cock further into your ass, before his movements change. His thrusts become quick and brutal, desperation colouring his movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin mingles with lustful noises. Your  mind goes blank, every movement seems to make you get so close to your orgasm and see stars. Everything is a haze of pleasure, two cocks reaching the deepest part of you; one hugging your clit close, whilst the other abused your cervix.
Both of them fucked you mercilessly, filthily–just as you trained them. Sunghoon  drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your experienced pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft words of praise and little moans only spurred Jake on as well and when your moist pussy clenched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restrain himself for much longer. And neither could Sunghoon.
A harmony of climaxing moans erupt through the cold air, cum rapidly spurting, coating the sheets. 
With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by your own will, you come undone. Your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around Jake and Sunghoon’s lengths.. You feel Jake's hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues, when Sunghoon whines and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 
And with one final shove of their hips, you were floating. You let out a strangled moan, something that came from low in your abdomen and exited your lips in a whiny, breathless cry. Jake relished it, pressing his face into your neck as he slowed down his ministrations, letting the sounds and signs of your pleasure coat him, body and mind. Sunghoon’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend.
You shiver drastically when they pull out. Your body is absolute jelly. You can't help but whine. feeling cum (you had no idea whose) starting to leak out. You’re a sopping wet mess between your thighs, between your own slick and the boys’ cum. But, you love this feeling. 
 And you love the softness in the way Sunghoon lets your back slump against the mattress gently, in the way Jake melts into your buddy, his fur providing you with enough warmth for the night.
“Y/N?” Sunghoon carefully whispers, aware of the fact that you were probably tired, “Should we run a bath or—”
“No–just..” You sigh, pulling him closer by his arm, “..stay like this for some time.” 
Jake and Sunghoon smiled to themselves as they cuddled close to you, but now before they wretched the leashes off of their knock, giving each other a look for confirmation. Their necks were heavily bruised and their voices were more strained than before.
But they didn't really care. 
After all, what more could they ask for, when they had their heaven between their arms?
fin.
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Taglist: @starfallia @katarinamae @lyxnneee
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foolinafable · 6 months ago
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thanks to tuffnut
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Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader Synopsis: four of the many times hiccup was oblivious to the fact he was in love with you and the time he finally realised.  Word Count: 1.5K Tags: 4+1 fic, Fluff, Hiccups pov Note: started this ages ago and only just got inspired enough to finish it.
1. Searching for you in a crowd 
Hiccup would never admit it, even now that he is respected as the heir to the hairy hooligan tribe and his father is proud of him. That he still feels like an outsider. 
Maybe it’s because they see him as this dragon master and while he might be if he’s to listen to anything Fishlegs says- he feels like they don’t see anything else- he is still just the chief’s son, the future of the tribe or their saviour if any of his work on the edge was talked about. He was never just Hiccup to them, even to his friends they see him as this omnipotent being rather than just a teen like them- capable of making mistakes.
He suggests that this is why he prefers to have time alone- just him, toothless the ocean beneath them and the wind carrying them elsewhere, where he can be anything. 
Annoyingly, this is not something he can do now: walking into the great hall at dinner time. He can already feel the beginnings of a headache wracking his brain as he imagines the awkward conversations he is going to have with villagers about his work on the edge as of late or the nagging of his father and Gobber to come back to Berk so he can learn the ways of chiefdom- something he is unsure that he even wants.
Entering the great hall after a large exhale, Hiccup looks around, searching for something lips pursing when he can’t find it immediately. It is only when he walks closer to where his father is sat, calling out pleasantries to those who greet him on the way that his eyes lock onto your figure, listening intently to what Ruffnut and Tuffnut are saying. Following the movements of their arms with your eyes as they spoke animatedly about who knows what. Hiccup finds a small smile appear on his face at the sight of you, only looking away when his father claps a hand behind his back making him aware of his surroundings, turning towards his father struggling to listen to whatever issue his father needs resolving around Berk this time, his thoughts still surrounding his best friend, knowing that as long as you are here he can be himself, just Hiccup. As that was always more than enough for you and that idea alone makes him feel less like an outsider.
2. Missing you when apart
He was starting to regret saying you couldn’t come with him. Not that he doesn’t enjoy Astrid and (sometimes) Snotlout’s company, but it clearly isn’t the same. While he usually enjoys scouting missions as they are a peaceful opposition to the dangerous missions they have had as of late, you typically come with him. 
But he knows that you cannot leave the edge defenceless and Astrid was complaining about not getting out with Stormfly enough- so it all made sense logically for Astrid to come instead and for you to stay on land, protecting the dragon eye lenses the group had hidden.
He couldn’t trust anyone more which is why he was confused as to why he felt so anxious. Even Toothless could notice the angst radiating off his rider, making a noise of questioning at Hiccup when he was quieter than normal, not even going over the route the group were scouting- something he usually did a hundred times until the group got annoyed at him. Not even playfully joking with Snotlout about who was the better cousin until Astrid would make a comment that would set Snotlout off arguing with her.
Instead, the three riders sat in somewhat awkward silence with Astrid and Snotlout starting at each other trying to gauge if the other knew what was wrong with the boy and who was going to ask him as seemingly neither wanted to as usually you would look after Hiccup when he got like this but you were back on the edge and honestly Astrid was wishing she didn’t kick up such a fuss about her and Stormfly’s lack of action as even being bored back on the edge was better than being sat in this haunting silence.
It was only upon returning to the edge that the two saw his mood pick up, he nearly crashed Toothless into the ground at the speed he dismounted causing the other two to look around in panic until they saw him running towards you and then it all made sense. The two snickering slightly as they realised that he was only in a foul mood because you weren't around.  
3. You looking after him when he gets sick
“It was only a matter of time” you muttered to him as you bundled him up in his blankets and he knew that you were right, you had been telling him for weeks to wear some warmer clothes during his flights with Toothless and his lack of listening has left him bedridden with a horrible cold, head pounding, nose blocked and red cheeks. He could only imagine the state of him somehow shaking and sweating all at the same time. He would’ve replied with something teasing if his throat didn’t feel so scratchy so he simply settled for a huff which made you laugh quietly in return. 
“Okay, I will stop being mean, but only if you get some sleep” you reasoned with the boy as he whined at the idea thinking of everything he had to today 
“I will get Astrid and Fishlegs to take your jobs for the day- can't have you getting any sicker what would your Father say?” you continued and at these words, the boy stopped fussing, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. 
“Have a good sleep Hiccup, I will be here when you wake up,” you muttered as he dozed off.
 For some reason, Hiccup couldn’t understand those words made him feel so much better.  
4. When his dad mentions you
Small talk with his father even after all this time was still somewhat awkward, like the feeling of your skin being too big for your bones. But, it was much better than it used to be or at least Hiccup usually believed it was. Still, today he would give anything to be anywhere but sit with his dad in their family home as he couldn’t stop going on about you and possibly betrothals something Hiccup knew would annoy you.
“I heard a lot of the boys around here want to ask for her hand, so maybe you should get a move on” Stoick spoke trying to hint at the boy's clear feelings for you
“I- what?” Hiccup asked confused, when had he ever shown interest in that?
“Oh it's nothing” Stoick tried to cover his tracks feeling Hiccups in annoyance at his words ‘you two just remind me of myself and a special someone when I was younger” 
“What are you and Gobber? I’m sure she will be very flattered by those words Dad” Hiccup laughed before quickly taking his leave before his father could sprout out any more nonsense. 
“Me and your mother” Stoick muttered but Hiccup was already gone, probably halfway back to the edge due to how fast he bolted out the door.  
5. The realisation
Watching you interact with Toothless was one of Hiccup's favourite things to do. Seeing his dragon take a shine to you just as much as he does makes a warmth spread all over his body in a comforting way. 
“Hiccup, my brother! What’s happening?” Tuffnut called out as he made his way towards the boy Hiccup quickly looked away from you for some reason embarrassed to be nearly caught by the boy, his cheeks red and hot
“Not- not a lot” Hiccup tried to smile but it came off uneasy much like his words. To his luck, Tuffnut didn't seem to notice instead looking at where Hiccup had his eyes trained just moments before before looking back at the boy 
“Don’t worry I see” Tuffnut nodded in understanding causing Hiccup to become confused 
“See what?” he questioned the peculiar boy 
“You were finally building up the courage to ask her out!” Tuffnut declared “I mean it’s about time everyone knows you have the biggest crush on her! Don’t let me stop you, in fact, I wasn't even here!” the boy quickly ran off as Hiccup's thoughts whirled around his brain about what on earth was Tuffnut on about he didn’t have a crush on you. No way. I mean sure you are the first person he looks for in a crowd of people, he gets irritable when you aren't with him on missions, you are the only one he would want looking after him and his father loves you but that doesn't mean he likes you right- your his best friend he couldn't possibly- could he? 
Then it hit Hiccup, he did have the biggest crush on his best friend, more than a crush really. He was irrevocably in love with you and to make matters worse Tuffnut knew before he did.  
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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago
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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Theseus is dead. You’re escorting the Minotaur, more beast than a man, out of the Labyrinth. The problem is, he seems to be more interested in what’s between your legs than in his mission of killing the notorious king of Crete… (12 k. Minotaur is not an actual hybrid in this fic. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Part 1 here.) Tags/warnings: Shameless smut mdni, dubious consent, extremely possessive behaviour, abduction, first time (König & reader are both virgins), hugs & cuddles, washing blood off your monster boyfriend, awkward flirting, semi-rough sex, shifting power dynamics, sexist insults & slurs (the citizens of Crete do not approve of your choices), implied cannibalism, fluffy ending. Mythical AU.
The candle goes out before you reach the surface.
To someone else, it would be the end of the world: to you, it’s only a hindrance, a nuisance, mostly. 
You’re not easily distressed. If you were, you wouldn’t be in the service of the greatest goddess of the Underworld. And you’re not mourning losing the sight of your warmly illuminated beast... You’re only worried about what he will do once the darkness descends. Whether he will forget about his vow, whether the baser instincts take over him once the darkness falls.
And darkness is not capable of making you lost: you can always follow the string in your hand. But without light, it’s difficult to predict the Bull’s moves: whether he decides to maim or fuck you against the wall, you can never tell. He hasn’t lived in the real world among people; he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong and what’s expected of him. Even the best of men can succumb to the demands of the flesh, so what power would a Bull Man have against his animal wants? No one ever taught him to respect the gods, let alone the maidens who serve them...
Then again, if a simple candle was the only thing that kept you alive, then what’s the point of lamenting the loss of it? Your life was already forfeit when you chose to descend here.
So you let it go: as always, the greatest lesson in life is to simply let go. Of control, of judgment, of fear, of hope. 
He doesn’t say a thing when the light flickers, then fades. The candle goes out in silence, and you let it drop before the remaining wax burns your palm.
And it’s not the absence of light, but strength, that forces you on your knees before even an hour has passed. There’s still a long way to go, and the yarn is like a thin string of hope in your hand, but you’re too exhausted, too worn out, too hungry and too tired to go on.
The Bull Man doesn’t object to your suggestion to lay down and sleep for a while. He has walked behind you in silence the whole day. Or night… You can’t tell the difference; you lost count somewhere along the way down here. The air is stale and humid, and there’s no torch, not a single candle anywhere and even if there were, you wouldn’t do anything with them without a flint. 
The horror is kept at bay only through your numerous exercises with the goddess who introduced you to darkness many, many moons ago. You were initiated during the dark Moon, the new Moon, the blood Moon, introduced to the mysteries of the maiden, mother and crone, to the secrets of both the living and the dead. You’re not afraid, but your body still warns you of danger: you just don’t know if it’s a memory from childhood or a reaction to the Bull, panting behind you – out of lust or exertion, you don’t even know. Someone who wasn’t a maiden probably could tell… At times, you curse the fact that there hasn’t been a single phallus inside you because men too possess knowledge. Taking a man into your bed would have initiated you to a different set of mysteries, but now, you are poking blind. 
The Bull Man is an animal, you remind yourself. The longer you stay in his company, the more he starts to resemble a human, even if he is a man of few words. How he even remembers them is another mystery: you thought he was sent down here as a young boy. He speaks oddly but eloquently, a remnant of his noble descent, perhaps. Or perhaps he has listened to the people speaking in the Labyrinth, eavesdropped his victims an hour or two before killing them. Whatever the reason, you have to constantly tie your tongue because there’s simply no point in talking to a beast. The less you know about him and his past, the better.
You ready yourself for sleep, but the cursed cold of the tunnels keeps your body awake. Your flesh is human even if your mind is forged to withstand hunger, thirst and pain. Endurance against cold was never your strong suit, and you miss the heat of the sun, the warmth of it on your skin, even the ample light it gives. You, a lover of the moon, missing the heat of Apollo… It’s a joke, surely.
On the stone floor, it’s even colder, the rough, damp ground making your very bones ache. How on Hecate’s name has the beast survived this place?
“Bull Man,” you speak into the darkness, thick like an impenetrable wall and thin like a virgin’s veil.
“Maiden,” he echoes with a dark, low growl, slightly amused by the name you’ve selected for him.
“Are you cold?” You whisper.
Perhaps he doesn’t quite understand the question or why you asked it. It doesn’t matter: you have to swallow your pride and ask for his help if you’re going to survive this dark prison.
“I don’t get cold,” he finally responds.
“Good. I need your heat.” 
The silence drags on, and you fear he has misunderstood you again, but then he speaks again, with the same slightly amused tone as before.
“Come take it.”
You’re not sure if you’ve completely lost your mind, crawling to him through the uneven floor of the Labyrinth. Who knows what he will do to you once he gets those arms of iron around you? You’re placing your maidenhood, your whole body at his mercy. And you’re not even sure if it’s a he, if this thing is human at all. 
Human or animal, your hand meets the bull’s head on the way to him. He has taken it off, then... It’s not a part of him, just like you suspected. Maybe he is just a giant, daunting man, born from whatever forbidden desire Pasiphae had. Who knows if she only went to a foreign lover’s arms when her husband was at war? Who knows if King Minos has trouble getting his phallus up… These things happen: women get pregnant from their lovers, they do desperate things to pacify their husbands. And you don’t need a bull to get yourself an heir...
You feel his heat before you feel his skin: the Minotaur is verily blazing. He has gotten used to the cold, it seems, his body like a small bonfire in the clammy tunnel. 
“Cold little female,” he comments when you snuggle towards him shyly, thoroughly aware of the uninviting chill of your body. 
You settle next to him, every muscle in your body tight like a bowstring, your breaths shallow when he gives you a welcoming rumble. Goosebumps prickle across your skin and your throat goes dry, the thick swallow in the tunnel echoing around you like a thief.
Arms like iron go around you, and his body is taut, just like yours, but for a whole different reason entirely. He’s not afraid or nervous; he’s just… big. Pure muscle, his whole body thick, the stock and heat of him remind you of the sun. A miniature sun down here in these dark tunnels, but while you start to slowly soften in his arms, a different threat is already emerging. It doesn’t take long before his cock stiffens against you, and with the scarce clothing you both have, you can feel its every excited twitch.
Artemis… Protect me from this beast. Turn him into a dog if he tries to penetrate me. Let him rip my throat instead… 
You’ve never prayed to the Virgin Goddess; you don’t know if she can even hear you from down here. But Hecate would only laugh if this Bull decided to breed you. No mercy would arrive from that direction: she would either send a disease of blisters upon the Minotaur for touching her chosen or then she would cackle like an old woman, thousand times raped.
“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your kindness will distract him from what’s happening downstairs.
“My pleasure,” he grumbles, mimicking the words he probably heard as a child in his father’s great hall. 
It sends a chill down your spine and butterflies into your heart to hear him speak like a polite man of court. And again, you think of asking him about his childhood... His mother, his father, the things he remembers from the surface. How he survived here without water, if there are underground springs here somewhere. Whether he eats humans like they say... If he ever embraced the dead women he killed. 
“Can you do it again,” he rumbles against you, cutting you away from your grotesque thoughts.
“...Do what again?” 
“Touch me… With your hand.”
His words are blunt now, his speech clumsy. But the way he says it is not an order. It’s an odd beg, more like. Laced with hope and wishes far away from greed. This Bull is never greedy, per se… He’s just lacking. Starved, for so many things that you fear there’s not enough time nor kindness to give him what he needs.
Your pulse flutters when you slowly lift your hand and caress the strong cords of muscle that make his neck. The rumbling returns; it turns into a low purr as the beast relaxes under your touch. Something softens inside you when he sighs from relief. His unbridled happiness tugs at your heart, trying to yank open something forbidden. It’s the softest violation you’ve ever felt: to be held by a giant killer having a roaring erection, while the said killer clearly enjoys your caress like it’s the touch of Aphrodite herself…
You even stroke his face. His jaw, unclenching under your touch; his cheek, covered with what you suppose is simply a wild, overgrown beard. 
“Your hand,” he groans softly, “makes me sleepy and warm…”
The cold, uncaring goddess recedes. The burdens of past, present and future dissolve. Softness takes place in your heart; the iron locks give in like brittle brass. A smile plays on your lips as you continue to pet him softly, lulling you both to sleep with your voice.
“Then sleep, Bull of Crete...”
You wake up to his cock pressing against you.
Not against your stomach like when you went to sleep – that you could do with – but against your cunt, barely veiled by the thin linen of your dress.
The panic is soon wrestled down with reason: you tell yourself it’s just a cock. It’s just him. You’re simply in the Minotaur’s arms, and he’s sound asleep still; there’s no reason to buck and jerk and scream. 
The darkness feels like a safe womb now, but with nothing to lock your gaze to, you have to take a moment to ground yourself into reality. And the first thing you ground into is a thick cockhead, pressing fast into your nether lips. He’s practically at the gates, and you’re lucky he’s still asleep.
It’s perhaps your fault this happened in the first place: you notice you’ve dragged your thigh over his hip; as if wanting him to fuck you in your sleep… You embrace him like Helen of Troy, and he holds you through his sleep like a man in love, perfectly content with napping on the cold ground with you.
“Mm…” The beast stirs, probably noticing how the female in his arms is tense as a rod. “You smell like you want to fuck…”
“No I don’t,” you hurry to whisper.
Gods curse this man’s ability to smell everything from miles away. Blood and humans and, apparently, a woman at her most receptive. 
What if he can actually smell the wetness between your legs?
“We need to go,” you slowly remove your leg from on top of his waist, hoping it would go unnoticed that you were clutching him like a lover. You have no such luck: he grabs your thigh and draws it back, sets it safe and snug around his waist while adjusting his grip on you, now hugging you entirely like a lover would.
“I want to mate with you,” he says softly. “You want to mate too. Why go?”
He sounds so adorable when he’s still in the process of waking up to a new day. Drowsy and sweet, voice husky from sleep, body warm as can be, the hard-on between his legs happy and stiff.
“I thought you wanted to kill the king,” you try to point out. 
“This is more important,” he gruffs. “Urgent.”
The cock pushes further up and against you, now spreading your folds under the dress, trying to penetrate into your heat. Your eyes go wide as thick need pools down to meet his greed. His body, his cock makes your head go dull for a moment; you feel like you’re not even capable of thinking actual thoughts.
“No, it’s not. We need to get up.”
You stiffen in his arms, push yourself away, and to your surprise, he actually lets you go. Reluctantly and with a hollow grunt, but he lets you go. 
You rise with a wobble, and adjust your dress, your head spinning from his advances. You swear he becomes more man-like every day, every passing hour, even. Or is it just you who’s changing…? 
The Bull Man is up before you get to ponder on that thought for too long. Your heart and head struggle to find their footing for a moment, your legs are so weak you feel like fainting. He catches you before you fall, the warm, thick arms closing around you with stout affection.
“You need more heat?” He asks softly.
You look up out of habit, even if you can't see his eyes, covered by the carcass again because his voice is muffled.
“No… I’m hungry.”
He’s silent for a moment, probably thinking what he could do to help the situation. You fear he will suggest you go back to visit his “pantry” and eat whatever horrible, half-rotten man-flesh he might have in store there, but he only holds you close to prevent you from sliding back to the ground.
“Hmm. No mice up here,” he ponders. 
“You eat mice…?”
“Sometimes.”
You leave it at that: you don’t want to know what he’s had to do to sustain himself down here. You don’t even have a fire to cook the vermin, even if you would be ready to eat even those after another day or two without food. 
“Not a long way up,” he says. “We will reach the sun soon. Then I’ll find you something to eat.”
“How do you know that…?”
“The air smells different.”
You sigh and search for the string, your lifeline to the outside world. You can’t wait to get out of here, and with both hurry and an odd dread, you hike for what seems like another whole day. Tension, hunger and thirst distort your thoughts, and you’re sure by now that the time flows differently here in the Underworld. With no small amount of pride, you feel accomplished to have survived this place so far. Even gods have had to do some tricks to escape the nether worlds: it is no small feat to charm the Minotaur and then walk out of here unharmed. 
To your knowledge, you’re the only one who has ever escaped the Labyrinth. You haven’t even had time to think about what you will unleash with you… The demon that walks on your heels will take his revenge, not only on the king but on the city who threw him here. 
Well. It’s their problem now. Minos and Pasiphae simply have to deal with their successor. The world will simply have to deal with the Underworld’s wrath. 
And oh, how Hecate would laugh if she saw this monster prince of Crete escape his prison because of you – the feared Minotaur set free, only because he’s mesmerized by a woman. You suspect he would have his cock jumping for any girl, though. It's not because you're an exceptional sorceress that he follows you: it's your cunt he's after. And it shouldn’t make you feel jealous that he probably gets distracted the moment he sees a better offer walk by.
But it does. In your darkest wishes, you would keep the Bull Man all to yourself. Get him a leash, perhaps... Feed him with your own hands and let him grope you in the dark, watch him go wild from lust when you finally give him access to your cunt. 
Many would hardly think you’re a virgin if they took a peek inside your head. But the things you’ve seen and done, the white bulls you’ve slaughtered for the dark Goddess, adorning them with cypress wreaths before slashing their throats open, would turn any woman bleak and twisted like this. For once, you would like to save the bull from slaughter.
When you see the first evidence of light, your body lets out a sigh it has been holding ever since you arrived here. Seeing the sun gives you more strength than any food or meal, and you pick up your pace while the Minotaur behind you begins to hesitate. 
“It’s too bright,” he says before you’ve even walked out of the tunnel, now turning into a vast cave, the entrance to the Labyrinth. 
You turn around to look and stop in your tracks when you see the fear in his eyes is acute. It’s mixed with wonder, the curiosity wrestling away doubt slowly but surely. He only needs a little nudge, a gentle pull, an enticing little smile and eyes that he can trust.
“You’ll get used to it soon,” you extend your hand. 
He takes a step, then another, then another, until he reaches your outstretched fingers, and hand in hand you walk out of the Labyrinth and into the bright morning sun, burning over the kingdom of Crete.
He’s only a breath away from panicking, but covers it well. You wonder if it’s truly the light that’s too bright or if the feeling of being so exposed is what makes him so afraid. Clearly, the vast space opening up before him is intimidating. 
There are grassy plains as far as the eye can see, little hills that dot the horizon, and skies so expansive and bright it must hurt his eyes. Goats are grazing under the sun, trees are bending in the wind, the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds calling him to look in all directions as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings.
“It’s alright,” you give his palm a soft squeeze, and the way he looks there under the sun, so big and powerful and able, and still so utterly lost, is giving you heartache you haven’t known since you were a child.
“There’s… so many colours,” he says, looking at the blue summer sky, the deep olive greens, the dirty whiteness of the goats, the flowers upon the grass. A butterfly, flying past, yellow like the citrus that people harvest from a few miles from here. A big blackbird with an orange beak, swooping down to catch a cricket, the slate grey pigeons flying so close to the sun that he has to shield his eyes even if they’re already safe and sheltered under the bull head.
Seeing his wonder and awe makes you look at the scenery so differently that it burns, it actually hurts: there’s so much beauty in the world, and you have always taken it for granted. Cursed the rain and the storms, cursed the droughts, cursed the gods for sending down another famine, when in truth, the world was filled with abundance, of colours, of life and joy… And all you’ve done is worship darkness. Now the darkness is out: it’s standing next to you, watching the view of your mundane everyday life like it’s nothing short of a miracle.
And when you turn back to look at him again, his eyes are upon you.
“What?” You ask, freshly caught in your moment of weakness.
“You are pretty,” he says, eyes wrinkling with delight under the mask. 
Gods damn him… 
He doesn’t know that human men don’t act like this, talk like this, or if they do, there’s usually something vile involved behind it all. He doesn’t know how to play games, he was never introduced to the lies and deceit of the world.
The Bull of Crete only looks at you with soft fondness in his stare – he doesn’t understand that he should cover that softness as well if he intends to win. Any woman could put a leash on him before another moon has passed, but he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not even heat or hunger that makes you weak this time... It’s those eyes, looking at you with more and more warmth.
“Nonsense,” you huff without a voice, and turn towards the old road with an adoring bull on your heels.
The cold sigh of the underworld is quickly left behind you as you walk up the old carriage road, nearly grown in with weeds. The Labyrinth is located miles away from civilization, but the people living in these hills are used to the cold cave by now. They trust that the Minotaur will never escape and only turn away their heads and close the doors of their huts when the screaming, crying human sacrifices are delivered to the mouth of the cave. Little do they know that the monster is now looking at their little hills and goats with delight, not bloodlust.
For the Minotaur is fascinated with your world: he has to touch every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass, it seems. The goats are afraid of him, but one small nanny is bold enough to come and sniff his hand. Perhaps it remembers that beings walking on two feet give her apples sometimes, and the giant studies this small white animal with gentle curiosity, allows the goat to smell his hand, only chuckles when the goat gives out a little scoff when she notices there are no treats to be found there.
The vision is more adorable than when you’ve seen children play with kittens, and no matter what you do, you can’t turn your heart into ice anymore. You were taught that the Minotaur is a monster who enjoys torturing his victims, creatures far more helpless than him. Now you see him watching the she-goat with warm curiosity, rumbling softly inside his helm, far from the ravaging beast that approached you in that tunnel what seems like months ago.
You watch him with tender sadness as he marvels at the sky and remembers how he used to sit in the shade of an olive tree when he was a child. He goes to sit there now and examines how the sun filters through the massive branches of the tree as if trying to recall the memory. 
He asks questions like: “How can you humans stand this heat?” or “Why is there only one road?” and listens to your answers carefully.
He says he can smell the sea, even if the salty water is miles and miles away, and gets curious about what’s behind that hill, or that one, what about that one… You wonder if he’s even interested in killing the king anymore and suggest that he could just forget about this cruel place and buy himself a sea voyage with that expensive sword. He could get rid of his helmet and ask if anyone needs a goat herd or an able-bodied man to help at construction sites or stables; he could get work from the docks any day, sail to Athens or some other big city, forge himself a new life. 
But he doesn’t want to.
He says he has to avenge his mother who always cried when he was little.
More wretched tugs pull at your heart as you approach the city. The lovely summer’s day turns into a nightmare once people see who’s on his way to the heart of Crete.
You don’t understand their screams, not anymore, while only a few days ago you knew they preceded death. The Minotaur doesn’t kill anyone, mainly because he doesn’t have to. Everyone flees before his wake, people rush to their homes and bar the doors, even soldiers slip away to be with their loved ones or run to warn the king if they have any loyalty left. 
You’re left to walk through the marketplace in settling dust and tense silence as the Bull Man explores the abundant samples of food on display. He has to have a taste of everything from all stands, but only after he has offered figs, olives, grain, grapes, grilled meat and fish to you first.
“Eat,” he says and shoves a handful of pine seeds your way. “You were hungry?”
“This is not the way to–” you ignore the food only through sheer willpower. “This is not right. People own these things. They sell them at the market, you need to pay for these.”
“Pay? With what?”
He looks at you for a moment, unable to recall what money is and how these things are supposed to work. He probably had his mother’s servants bring him everything he needed as a child anyway, so how could he know? 
“They will take your hands for stealing,” you try to explain with softly building despair.
“I will take their heads before that.”
“The next king will hunt you down and punish you,” you rush after him, and when he won’t listen, you seize his hand and finally get him to halt. He looks down at the weak palm around his wrist, then raises his gaze to you.
“Bulls don’t have kings.”
Your attempts to tame him are futile. The things they’ve taught him to be are now being used as a way to escape responsibility, and while it’s none of your business, you refuse to let him believe that he is nothing more than an animal.
“You are not a bull,” you wail in frustration. “You’re a man.”
He hesitates, only for a moment; the gentle, loving gaze makes your legs weak.
“You’re the first to think that.” 
Then he rips himself away from you, softly but sternly.
He doesn’t need directions to the palace: he knows he has to head for the most prominent building in the city to reach the king. The grandiose heart of Crete, white-chalked and beautiful under the burning midday sun is the pride of every citizen, even if it houses another monster.
You sigh as you watch him go: the Bull Man, the demon of the underworld, the one you thought would rape you bloody before you get to crawl out of the Labyrinth. The fact that he wanted to kill his father more than he wanted to be born again into a new life wasn’t a surprise, but that he chose to bloody his sword rather than his cock is somehow... insulting, almost. 
What actually haunts you is how your insides coil and turn when you rush back to your temple. It’s not like you thought the Minotaur would take you with him. Board some trade ship bound for distant shores, and ravage you ever so softly in the belly of the creaking hull. It’s not like you dreamed of petting him to sleep while you two embark on a new life. But the way your heart twists and wails inside your chest makes it clear that losing him is even more painful than losing Theseus and the life he promised you. 
You never even wanted Theseus; you only wanted him to take you away from here. His affection would have been the result of ample witchcraft at best.
He’s practically already dead, and your heart turns to stone far more slowly than you would prefer. It’s just your luck to first have the golden hero of Greece look down on you in disdain, and then witness even the Bull Man walk away from you like you never meant anything to him. Men killing each other is the oldest story in the world, and you want no part in it, but something in this beast has stirred you awake from a long, cold slumber. It’s infuriating that you can’t dispel a simple animal from your heart. Oldest story in the book, that one, too…
But oh, how you now yearn after some cruel, lowly, dirty beast… The Minotaur already owns you, and he never even had to plunge his sword inside you to prove that. Besides, you would’ve been perfectly willing had he decided to take you on the green grass, under the vast sky, while some noisy goats graze around you. You realize that that’s what you expected to happen, and when it didn’t, you’re left more than disappointed: you're left completely hollow. You always find out these things a little too late, it seems… The Bull is headed for the palace and will likely get killed after he slaughters his cruel father. There’s at least thirty spears in that building, and more will arrive when called.
You arrive at the temple, panting and with your body flushed and weak. The maidens at the entrance share a quick glance with each other before turning their fearful gazes back to you. They’re the youngest arrivals, not even initiates yet; one of them hardly even bleeds. 
“The King is dead,” you announce without bothering to even greet them, and the girls huddle up together like they’re a bunch of slaves about to get slapped.
You realize you must look like an animal with your dirty robes, dishevelled hair and your wild, alive stare. No wonder they look like they’ve seen a ghost... You basically are one, coming back from the dead like this.
“What?” 
A priestess arrives at the threshold like an image of Hecate herself, dressed in robes as black as the midnight sky, but you don’t shy away from her like you used to.
“Or he will be. Soon. The Minotaur is here.” 
“How did you… How did it...”
You’ve never seen the priestess in disarray. She’s always composed, cold and distant, but seeing you like the wraith that you are, freshly escaped from the Labyrinth, spat back from the bowels of the earth like the dark gods didn’t even want you there, makes even the greatest of Hecate’s servants a little uneasy. 
She gathers what’s left of her dignity and finds her most commanding voice. Sadly, it doesn’t have the power to shake the ground anymore.
“Where is Theseus of Athens?”
“Disemboweled… is my best guess,” you say in a listless voice, then turn your head toward the smell of fresh fruit.
Normally, you would walk these halls with dignity, but now, you simply barge in and grab the first piece of food you find. You ought to get whipped for your insolence, but no one dares to raise a hand against you. The maids and priestesses stare in shock as you eat and drink like a starved prisoner. You’re a living Hecate in certain aspects, your arrival the first toll of the bell of doom as the palace guards sound the alarm.
So…
The Minotaur has reached the king.
The priestesses deem it only logical that the King finally pays for his sins: the gods have been offended by the number of human sacrifices sent to the Labyrinth, and this is their way of exacting revenge. You were only an instrument of their will.
After a quick wash and some more food, you begin to feel like a human again. The maids bring you a new chiton, flowing and white: your old clothes are burned in a brazier as if that would help you forget.
And this might be the only place you don’t get blamed for unleashing a monster. You were at a crossroads with the Minotaur, and anyone would have done the same: try to talk him out of his killing spree, calm him down, entice him with a gift. No one expected that the beast could even speak, so your approach was unusual, perhaps, but it worked. Hecate guided you through the tunnels, even when the candle went out, she stilled the Bull’s loins until you reached the sunlight where the beast got distracted with other things. You leave out the Minotaur's attraction to birds, bees and butterflies because your story is unbelievable enough as it is.
But the Minotaur will be slain after he has done his deed: Minos is the one who should be punished, not the city of Crete. And it is only just to put down this beast, a mercy.
So when he appears between the pillars of temple, this time wholly covered in blood, people are bound to scream. Even the priestesses who are used to seeing blood, shriek like widows when the Minotaur steps inside the holy shrine of Hecate.
“Where is the maiden of the crossroads?”
He came back for you, after all…
The boom of his voice is familiar, and yet, you cower on the bench when you hear it. The Minotaur sounds like he’s an envoy of Hades himself, and while you’re not among those who scream and yell, it still sends shivers down your spine to hear him speak like that.
Or is it the excitement, a tiny flame of hope that makes you quiver like this?
“We all belong to the goddess,” someone peeps, the Minotaur now descending down the stairs.
The massive head turns, gaze like razor sweeping across the marbled shrine. You’re so far back that he can’t catch you, sitting behind many bodies and faces, and before you can force yourself to rise, the main priestess, the oldest, most crooked of the crones, steps forth to meet this beast.
“This is a House of Hecate,” she speaks. “No man is allowed to enter unless they are Death.”
The black carcass turns, but the priestess doesn’t waver. If anything, her spine turns into unbreakable metal before this man’s gaze.
“I am Death,” he says, far more gently than anyone would expect. Then he walks past the crone like she’s just a harmless elder. No one does a thing, because even the head of your temple is powerless now.
“She had a red string and a candle. Where is she?”
He grabs the first woman he sees, and you rise up before he decides it’s time to thrust his blade into someone to loosen the tongues of these women. 
“Please,” you take a hesitant step towards your Bull. “I’m here... I’m the one you’re looking for.”
The Minotaur lets go of the frightened initiate the instant he sees you. She’s shoved aside with little interest, the blue eyes behind the corpse now solely fixed on you. The way they soften into hazy ice makes your knees weak – that’s the stare of someone who recognizes their loved one among a thick, dull crowd…
“Come with me,” he extends a hand when he reaches you, strong legs swallowing tiles like he’s in a hurry to get back to you. You open your mouth, close it, and look at his hand, the rough, enormous palm held out for you to place your own little hand in.
“You belong to me,” he says with great weight when you don’t speak. It should spark the ire of the goddess for him to dare to talk to you like this… But mostly, your body sings. It tells you to take a step and take his hand: to let him have you, once and for all. 
“My place is here,” you utter, all power gone from your voice. All your dreams, all your fears are offering their hand to you with his, and the maidens, mothers and crones of this hall look upon your exchange with the Bull Man in stupefied silence. 
“You were sent down to me,” he presses on. “You are mine now. You belong to me.”
Your body is singing, singing, singing.
It’s not a request… Or a proposal. 
It’s a god, taking what’s his.
You swallow with nothing in your throat and look at the head priestess with helpless misery: she looks back with the eyes of a noxious Medusa, wholly dispassionate to the problems you brought upon yourself. And what could she even do? She’s unarmed against the claims of Hades: Death is now in love with you, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it. 
He doesn’t want to stay in the city, as enchanting as it is, saying that it stinks and that he’s tired of the screams. No one wants him here; he already knows that, and the task he was meant to do is done. He doesn’t seem to be much moved by it either, only asking you if there is a place where he can wash the blood off himself. 
People become more bold when they see you walk out of the city. Not even the sight of a crimson demigod makes them watch their tongues. Insults and slurs follow you through the streets, shouts such as “Kingslayer!” and “Beast!” are accompanied with curses such as “You are an abomination!” and “Go back to your lair!” 
No one treats him as their prince and savior, no one sees him as the man he truly is. And because hatred thickens in crowds, you get your share of the insults as well. 
What kind of a woman would follow a beast like him? Have you sold your soul to the demons of the desert, or has Hades himself forced you to be with this monster? Are you behind the murder of their king?
“Must I remind you?” You turn on your heels, standing tall and proud with the posture of a queen. “According to the old laws, the one who slays the king is the next to rule.” 
“You led him out of the Labyrinth, didn’t you?” the voices ask.
“Gave him your cunt, too,” they sneer.
“You’re worse than the bloody Gorgon,” they mock, but you have a thick skin: if anything, you take it as a compliment to be referred to the mighty slayers of men.
What cuts through your heart is the filth and hate they spit at him, the man who has known nothing but loath since he was born. 
“Hecate’s whore… I should kill you first,” one soldier shouts with spit running down his chin.
The citizens of Crete would never hail the Minotaur as their king, but none can say the deed didn’t prove great strength. Some would even call it justice. He is the queen’s son, after all: he’s more royal than any of these dung-stinking peasants will ever be. He should never have been sent down to those tunnels in the first place.
Before you know it, the Minotaur swoops past you in haste, diving towards the screaming crowd with hunched shoulders and a fiery breath.
“Stop,” you say, and he halts immediately, gaze still directed to the one who called you a whore. The soldiers back away along with the peasants and tradesmen, these poor, humble Cretes who act like they never meant to be so mean.
“Let us go in peace,” you command, voice unwavering and stern. “Or I will curse you all. You and your families, down to the seventh son and seventh daughter.”
That manages to shut them up. The threat of a curse frightens these poor beasts even more than the enraged Minotaur breathing fire through his helm. No one wants rot and puke to follow them wherever they go; no one wants to doom their offspring with illness, death and sorrow. They disperse in all directions and only hiss and whisper as they go.
You spit on the ground as your last gift to these people, leaving the city of Crete with the ever-adoring Bull at your heels.
“You’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he says while walking next to you, voice thick with genuine passion and awe.
You roll your eyes: any man would cower before Hecate’s curse, but this one? This one only gets more horny. 
“Perhaps you are part bull after all,” you retort dryly.
“It takes more than one spear to kill me,” he boasts, but you don’t need more proof of his prowess. Surely, people have tried to kill him in the Labyrinth, but he’s survived every single attempt on his life – for that alone, he should be a decorated hero.
The only thing that makes you annoyed, however, is this childish need to prove he could’ve taken the whole city by himself just because some man happened to call you a slut.
“Mother said I’m a monster instead of a man,” he says, completely unaware that your snap wasn't meant as a compliment. He says it like he’s partly proud of it, and you finally sigh and turn. 
“Your mother was heartless. And wrong.”
The Minotaur only looks at you with a building passion that goes straight to your loins.
“But you’re not.”
“...What?”
“Heartless.”
You feel stripped naked before him, the way his eyes seem to burn away your poor dress. But the fact that he unearths your most guarded secret, just like that, is a catastrophe of a far wider scale.
You’re not sure who’s tied to whom anymore… Or if you’re tied to each other, the gods now laughing in their wine as they look down at you two: a fierce and bloodied giant following the maiden he stole like it’s you who took him and not the other way around.
You reach the roaring waters of a waterfall in silence, the night wrapping the lands inside a dark blue veil. Stars will be visible soon, and with the moon creeping up to the sky, you won’t be needing candles tonight. The silver mistress gives plenty of light for you to admire your beast, and compared to the thick darkness of the tunnels you emerged from this morning, it feels like a generous blessing.
You sit on the banks of the small, clear pond, utterly exquisite at nightfall. The sun’s heat has turned into a warm, caressing breeze, and you submerge your feet into the water, giving out a satisfied sigh as the cool pond embraces your travel worn feet. The Bull sinks to a crouch some distance away from you, curious about your obvious moment of pleasure.
“Did you meet her…? Your mother?” You ask from the cool water lapping at your feet – how can a simple man make you feel so restless and shy?
“Did you… kill her?” 
“She cursed me,” he says, sullen and wholly unsurprised. Time and time again, you are shocked by the hatred his own kin shows him. How can a mother be so cruel?
“How could I kill my own maker?”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.” 
You swallow before such unwavering love. The same man who cursed the gods yesterday  honours the womb he came from so much that he won’t raise a hand against it, not even when his own mother spits curses at him. You don’t know if it’s his greatest strength or biggest weakness, but sometimes you wonder if he’s more human than humans, this beast.
“I’m not,” he retorts immediately. “The king is dead. Mother is safe. I have you... This is the best day of my life.”
You turn to look at him. Time and again, the lack of lies and deceit in this man catches you off guard. It’s more painful than any wound, to see how the Minotaur has no protective skin against the corrupted human nature, that he is human nature before it was defiled.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you falter. 
The chiton pools around your ankles, and you wonder if the man even breathes anymore. You know your skin is glowing with the last rays of the setting sun, you’re aware that the water and moonlight play upon your skin and make you look like an illusion, powerful in its own way.
When have you ever faltered…? Back when you were a little girl, you reckon, the notion euphoric and eerie in your bones.
You rise up and undress before him nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fervid stare of your admirer. Unclasping the brooches holding up your white linen dress, you let it fall down and set you free, secretly reveling in the downright carnal stare now glued to your skin. 
Ripe for plucking, you think while stepping out of the pile of cloth and into the thin evening air. His gaze feasts on you: the plump breasts no one ever loved, the vulnerable navel down below, the dark triangle between your legs, the secret power it holds.
Heat pools into your core as you watch him: everything in your body turns warm and soft when you take in the utter heftiness of him. The mean, swelling phallus between his legs, the near inhuman strength those shoulders and chest possess. Your body is the complete opposite of him, ethereal, almost, compared to the absolute brute strength before you. 
His eyes linger there the longest until he rises too, stiff and dreamy, a beast entirely taken by a thrall. The loincloth is practically torn away, as if it’s only a nuisance he must get rid of immediately. His eyes never leave your shape while he bares himself, and the phallus, you notice, belongs to a human. It’s thick and wondrous, fully erect, adorned with dark curls and accompanied by a set of balls you’ve mainly seen on horses. Big, full and round but unlike animals, they’re covered in dark fur, almost black here in the evening light. Thick seed beads through the slit of his cock from simply seeing you, and the way his chest heaves makes it clear that this man is ready to mate as soon as he’s allowed to do so. 
“You need to take off your helm,” you lift your chin, thoroughly aware of your power over him, even if it’s laughable, a miracle that he doesn’t fuck you on the spot like the animal he is. “You’re a man, not a bull.”
His eyes don’t betray any kind of hesitation. He doesn’t seem to be interested in whether he wears his mask or not. He just blinks as if he’s indeed under a spell and nods.
“If you say so.”
The broad muscles flex as he takes it off, and what is revealed to you from underneath the head is both a surprise and a disappointment. There’s not a monster under there, only a man, a stoic, boorish, shaggy male who’s in desperate need of a wash and a comb. He’s somewhat handsome under all that facial hair and knots, actually, not bad at all – if you like your men rugged and wild. 
He lets the head drop to the ground with a thud as if it was never a part of him at all, and follows you into the pool like you’re his mother and he’s your cub about to get scrubbed clean. 
He seems to dwarf you, even when half submerged in the pond, leaning back with a sigh not unlike yours. If you’re afraid, your body has a peculiar way of showing it: even in the clear, glossy water, you can feel yourself get wet. Never have you seen such strength, not in any man: in horror and awe, you realize he could be a descendant of Zeus himself. As if providing proof to these claims, he looks up to the sky, mesmerized by the myriad stars dotting the vast, unattainable blue.
Using this momentary distraction to your advantage, you reach to pluck a handful of moss from the bank. With this soft little sponge in your hand, you hope to make it clear that this is indeed a bath, not foreplay. 
“They’re stars,” you say softly while slinking closer to him. “Have you ever seen them...?”
“Yes,” he rasps with his head lolled back, throat completely exposed. It always hurts your heart to see that he trusts you so fully. You are no threat to him – even if the gods changed the moss in your hand into a weapon of some sort, you wouldn’t pose any kind of challenge. And still, the way he allows you to creep towards him and wipe his rough hide with the makeshift sponge without so much as flinching is heartbreaking. 
“I have forgotten…” his voice drifts off as he examines the night sky, eyes filled with distant, glass-like delight.
“Beautiful, aren’t they...?” 
“Your world is pretty,” he brings his gaze back to earth and to you. “But you’re the loveliest thing I’ve seen so far.”
You almost freeze upon hearing that. His compliments always catch you off guard, but this time, something forbidden and long forgotten comes undone: a lost want, no, a need to hear such simple words of shallow praise.
“You do not scream... You do not run. Why?”
Your eyes are liquid, glass about to break as you set yourself on the task of scrubbing him clean. You refuse to get emotional in front of him: an initiate of the dark goddess, shedding tears when a horny man calls her pretty? What utter nonsense.
But then he grabs your wrist: not to seize back power, but to prevent you from escaping this fragile moment.
“You are different,” he agrees calmly, then releases you, but you reckon it’s mostly because he misses the soft rubs you were giving him. 
“Perhaps I’m crazy,” you breathe while looking at the damp curls on his chest.
Yes… That’s the only explanation for this madness. It has to be.
“Is that why you took me?” 
“I took you because you’re mine. I want you.”
“You can’t just take what you want,” you warn softly.
“Why not?” His head tilts a little to the side as he’s trying to make sense of you and the manners of your world. “Don’t you want to be mine?”
You lift your gaze and risk a look into his eyes, stripped from all facades as always. You even catch a passing wave of worry there: he had counted on you being as fascinated with him as he is with you. The hunger behind that want, the need to be something special to you, is a whole another issue that must wait until your head is more clear. Way more clear…
“Perhaps,” you confess.
“I have nothing to give you,” he shrugs, eyes looking slightly past you this time, out of shame or anxiety. It takes a while for you to understand he’s liking you to the goods at the market and thinks he’s expected to have money to be able to keep you.
“You don’t need to pay for me,” you smile, trying your best to disguise the soft amusement in your voice. His brows only furrow as he tries to calculate and think.
“I don’t understand the rules of this world,” he finally shakes his head. 
“I’ll teach you.”
For a while, he only looks on with fascination how you rub his arms and belly, basically massaging him with the wet moss. His eyes drift closed when you scrub the back of his neck, the stout erection only getting thicker under the cool water. You’re careful with his legs, not because you’re afraid he’s ticklish but because you try to avoid touching the huge cock already jutting up from happiness. It gives a few excited bounces when you wash his inner thighs, hopeful to get its needs satiated soon. 
“I can hunt for you,” he suggests. “Bring you food… Protect you.”
He’s visibly excited when figuring out a way to give you something in return. He wants to provide offerings for your company, your lore, and eventually, your cunt, too. You might be a virgin, but you’re not stupid: of course he wants the soft, wet prize between your legs. A pair of lovely tits to squeeze at night... Ears to groan hushed confessions into, thighs to nibble, bite and suck until you cry... 
“What do you think?” He asks, breath heavy from the bliss you’re already granting him by simply giving him a bath. “I could give you my heat. Please you...”
“You know how to please women?” 
“No. But you could teach me.”
The way he says it is not shy. Only tentative. A bear, walking on ice and hoping it would carry his weight. One wrong step and the ice will swallow him, spitting out his bones only in spring. 
And then…
“Do you know how to fuck?”
The ice holds, mainly because you’re too shocked to even slap or ridicule this man. His eyes bore into you with such unbridled greed that you have trouble keeping your precious pride intact.
“Of course,” you hear yourself whisper like it would be an insult to your intellect if you didn’t.
“Teach me,” he says, ever more greedily.
“I…”
Your jaw is left open, but not a word comes out. A strong palm closes around your wrist again, this time to bring you flush against him. The water laps at your skin, a distant crow cackles somewhere. Your hand is brought to his phallus, but he doesn’t have to wrap your fingers around it: you do it all by yourself, breath locked in your throat as you feel how hard and blazing he is.
“You want my cock,” he says, mouth only an inch from yours. “Don’t you...?”
You wet your lips – a mistake, because his half-lidded gaze darts to your mouth the instant your pink tongue lashes out. You’re in a predicament, but on the other hand, what else did you expect, taking your clothes off in front of a touch-starved bull?
“I’d give it to you happily,” he insists. “No female ever wanted to spread her legs for me.”
Or a leash. 
Your fingers tighten on their own, they mould around him. Like a bond…
“Really?” You breathe. “What fools they were...”
The cock gives a full throb inside your palm, exalted to be yours. But only a moment later, the dreaded Minotaur moves. 
You find yourself under him before you can even gasp for air: the soaked, hot body of a giant now pinning you on the grass and crushing you under it with ease. The weight of your error is fully pressed against you: he was never tamed, and you were a fool to think you could put him in chains.
The raw scent of earth and musk fills your nostrils, making the stars above you spin. His cock is trapped between your bodies, giving another rich pulse against your thigh. Gods, if he were throbbing like that inside you…
“You make my skin burn,” he growls into your ear, the heat of his skin now unbearable, the coarse hair prickling your skin from neck to thigh. “My loins, ache…”
“Are you a witch?” He asks, and you finally allow yourself to breathe.
If he only knew… But hexes and charms are of no use for you now: the only thing you can do is moan, apparently, as he dives for your neck, planting barbarous kisses on your skin.
Down, down, down he goes, pure avarice driving him to feast on every part of you. You’re too weak to stop him when he searches for the source of your intoxicating scent. Discovering it between your thighs, he dives nose-first into your sex, meeting your core with a hungry grunt.
Your back arcs with pleasure, your nails sink into his back: a funny thing to do when he’s already as close as can be. The trail of crude kisses leads him to your breasts, and you try to keep your whimpers in control, but a gasp erupts when he drags a hot tongue across your nipple. Massive palms close around your tits while you squirm in his hold: he doesn’t seem to be driven by the need to please you; rather, he wishes to study you first, examine how your body reacts to his groping. He leaves your breasts aching and sore, every bite and suck managing to make you wetter and wetter, your cunt screaming for attention by now.
“Gods...” you wriggle on the soft earthen bed, not expecting him to take you with his mouth first.
He withdraws, only a little, but his voice is surprisingly soft.
“Do I hurt you...?” 
“No… But this is not mating…”
“Even I know that much,” he says darkly, and grabs you by the waist, moves you around like a doll until you find yourself on your belly. 
He looks at you from between your thighs, demonic and keen. The broad shoulders force your legs wide apart when he’s seated there, waist-deep in the water, with you hauled to the shore like a siren.
Not a moment is wasted as he pulls you back to him by the hips: you’re drawn to all fours, a hot streak of cum dragging on the inside of your thigh from the cock that meets your skin. He grabs and steadies it with an annoyed grunt, and the fat tip is shoved straight into your folds, your nether lips parted with brute force almost. 
“Guide me.”
His voice is demanding, impatient as he drags the fat head up and down the entrance of your hole, coating his cock with your slick in the process. You wonder if it’s instinctual, if he knows that this is where he should poke and that it will hurt you less if he’s well-oiled. He’s about to rut you into oblivion the instant you tell him where to shove his cock, and the prospect only sends more sap flowing down your thigh.
“There…” you stutter when he finds it, the aching spot that’s leaking profusely. He pushes the head in, not by teasing but by bullying, almost forcing it inside from how tight and unreceptive you are.
“Tighter than my fist,” is his only comment, and it makes you shudder. “I will not last long…”
You wince from the burn, but the rest of it glides in like a dream, and suddenly you’re filled, to the capacity, one could say. He grunts just from the way your womanhood is hugging him, not sure what this foreign object inside you is – is it a good thing or a threat?
“Easy then,” you breathe a huff into the sweet night air, filled with fireflies and night birds who know nothing about the fucking you’re about to go through.
He doesn’t move – inside you, that is. Outside, he crawls forward until he moulds around you, heavy body enveloping you completely. The hairs on his thighs tickle the back of your legs, his chest scrapes your back just so as he demonstrates how you belong to him in every way. But when your cunt starts to squeeze him again, he swallows thickly.
“Does this feel good to you too…?”
You catch faint confusion and concern in his voice, astonished that such a soft, frail body like yours can take his cock just like that. Little does he know you’re still adjusting to his size, thanking all the gods that he doesn’t move yet.
“Yes,” you confess because it does feel good: his thickness inside you, stretching you both gently and violently, studying how it feels to be inside a loving, wet heat.
“Then I will fuck you every day,” his lips come to brush your ear. “Many times...”
You hear yourself whimper, more humble now than ever. No man would dare to take you on all fours, but here you are, like a bought bride about to get stuffed…
He withdraws a little, asks, “Like this?” when he returns with a rough, nasty thrust. The balls meet your mound, heavy on the tender nub you’ve flicked when you’re lonely, covering your mouth while you do it. Both your hands are planted on the ground now, your legs spread before this beast, cunt filled to the brim with his cock.
“Not so rough,” you warn, and he heeds your instructions to the letter until he’s moving in and out with a slow, delicious pace that allows you to feel every thick bump of him. Soaked now down to your thighs, the sounds of your mating is utterly sloppy and slick, and of course he’s curious.
“Are you always like this…?”
“Like… what,” you huff in between the slow, torturous thrusts.
“Soft,” he rasps. “Tight… Wet like rain.”
“No. It’s just when…”
“When you want to fuck?”
You whimper for an answer, mostly because he starts to slip from the agreed sluggish pace. His cock invades you with more urgency, chasing the eruption that must be generous from those thick balls that should belong to a horse.
“I knew it…” he says dreamily behind you. “Some women want to mate with bulls...”
He punctuates his newfound pride with a full, deep thrust, and you wince.
“You’re not a–”
“Keep telling yourself that, little maiden.”
He exhales a hot smile next to your ear, and you’re neck deep in love. Your mouth hangs open, your lids half closed and fluttering from the way he pounds into your poor, abused cunt. Heavy balls slap your swollen nub with careless abandon, making you squeeze his thickness every time he hits the end of you. His grunts become more animalistic with every thrust, and your cunt is a wild thing, leaking and weeping and throbbing until you fear there’s something wrong with you – no woman is supposed to be this needy for a beast…
I’m going to come… You realize in horror as the slick sounds of fucking overthrow even the coursing roar of the waterfall. The knowledge shoots your body full of dark, hot ink; it explodes inside your core like a liquid star, throbbing through your cunt currently being ploughed like you’re nothing but a needy, sloppy hole for him. You’re swimming in so much pleasure that it’s almost painful, the revelation some secret of the gods, no doubt. 
He growls when you moan, heavy arm snaking its way around your middle to keep you in place for him. The purr is eager and low, the rumble erupts from his chest like a thick, loving volcano, a statement of how perfect you are. He nuzzles his nose into your neck and rubs his scent all over you while fucking you through it, the divine rapture that leaves your throat dry from moans. 
He doesn’t need to be told what it means when you’re crying like that: he doesn’t need to be explained that his cock is giving you ample pleasure. It’s so desperate, how much he wants to both fuck and please you, just own you and fulfill you, that you start to shake, your frail body not capable of handling the orgasm he just gave you. 
Your strength fails, and you find yourself on your elbows, cunt even more exposed to him now, the cock pistoning into you with a relentless pace. He’s like a titan upon you, taking pleasure from your quivering, weak frame and the tight wet hole that belongs to it. You’re still in rapture when he starts to sound like broken, wounded man.
“You were made for me,” he huffs. “You were made...for me…”
His voice evaporates along with your thin, adoring mewls, just before he fucks himself over the edge. You can feel the hot, thick spurts, filling you as he roars into your hair, balls pressed flush against your sex, thighs meeting yours in a moment frozen in time. 
They can probably hear him all the way to the city, hear what a cunt like yours does to an invincible beast like him… But his cries are only met with silence; the night sky looks back with disinterest, the birds continue their songs when they notice it was only the roar of a mighty beast that filled the land. Before long, he’s groaning above you, using your hole more softly; loving it until the last drop is milked. 
When he stops, his whole body is trembling from release, but you’re not given a moment of reprieve. He forces you to the ground with him on your back, the rough, thick body never leaving yours. Coarse beard chafes your neck, his body trapping you completely under him, he even opens his jaw to take your shoulder between his teeth and bites you while his cock is still pulsing fat inside you. 
“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants into your ear, angry, almost.
“Good,” you breathe a smile, but he’s not satisfied.
“You couldn’t get enough of me too… I noticed.”
“You gave me pleasure,” you agree. “Lots of it.”
“That was a lot of seed… I haven’t spilled in days.”
He huffs into your ear, astonished and proud that he could do such a thing. You feel him shift to take a better look at you, fingers arrive to graze your temple as if to make sure you’re real, as if having his cock inside you wasn’t enough proof of that. They’re a little shaky, a little uncouth, but the touch is gentle enough, and sweet.
He's boasting again perhaps, you don’t know, but you give him a soft laugh, notice how he stops breathing momentarily when hearing the bright sound.
“I am filled to the brim with you, yes… It will take a while before I can take more.”
“...You have other holes in you,” he offers after a while, quite seriously, in fact. 
“Get off me, you beast,” you huff and squirm to get out from under him, but there’s a luscious grin on your face, a smile that tells him you would more than approve of his obscene ideas later. 
“This feels good,” he murmurs into your hair. “This feels right...”
He allows you to leave from under him, only whines when his cock gets exiled from your cunt. He misses the wet heat like a newborn child misses the womb, but you need to recover from the recent invasion. Seed gushes out from your hole, making a mess on the ground as he pulls you against him, wanting to cuddle you next.
You wonder if he even knows what cuddling means as you lie there with a sticky mess between your legs and the heat of an entire sun on your cheeks. You smile into the coarse, sweaty body hair tickling your nose, deciding it doesn’t matter whether he knows or not: the most important thing is that he wants to hold you like this.
“Yes,” you smile. “This feels right…”
Something blooms in your chest. An odd flower, persistent and sweet. 
The stars above are cold but motherly as they look down on you two: born again into a world that doesn’t want either of you. The only things that accept you now are flowers, birds, the wind and the rain, bees and salty sea, but that’s aplenty. That’s more than the whole of Crete could ever give you.
“Are you thinking about your hero,” he asks above you.
“What? No…”
“Good,” he rasps, so softly now that you start to fear he’s about to cry.
You are more than capable of lying, but Theseus hasn’t crossed your mind in hours: the last time it did, the memory was received with loath and disdain. Thinking about Theseus while you’re draped all over your Bull, his seed flowing out of your womb... What a ridiculous idea. 
The reason for his hardly disguised anger is laid out plain before you: he's just jealous like any other man. Somehow, it makes you feel even more glowy inside.You’re my hero, you want to say, but have no courage to spill out the words. He was balls deep inside you mere moments ago, but telling him this intimate truth seems to be too much.
It never occurred to him, then, that you would enjoy copulating with him. He fucked you with the impression that you needed thoughts of another man to make you wet… That perhaps with the help of the image of Theseus in your mind, you were able to come with his cock inside you. 
“My Bull,” you whisper. “Tell me your name. You must have a name…?”
His breath stops only for a moment, the heart in his chest gives an arduous beat before he answers.
“Asterion.”
Starry one…
Of course.
All monsters have names, usually the opposite of what they’re claimed to be. His birth is in heaven, in the stars; he belongs to the company of heroes and gods.
“Asterion,” you whisper it out into the night air while the animal an man both find their new home in your arms. “Your birth is written in the stars. Did you even know…?”
“Does that make me a hero?” He snorts, more old wounds torn open right before your eyes. 
You wriggle yourself out of his hold, but he avoids your stare. You lift a hand to bring those beautiful Olympian eyes back to you.
“It makes you immortal.”
Perhaps you should’ve known he would be enticed with an apple instead of tethers and deals. Or with a palm, held out with no intent to strike… 
It’s lovely, how he blinks every time he’s confused. You’ve yet to see him shy, but if he ever is, this might be the moment… You even catch him swallowing under that wild facial hair, an awkward blob right after that blink when his birthright is acknowledged.
But even more dumbfounded he becomes when he realizes you’re truly and veritably admiring him. When you whisper it to him – you’re my hero – and watch something shatter in him that was supposed to wrench itself free, that’s when he’s truly granted divinity.
Perhaps it was all about becoming animal again, allowing the other to have a sniff. Baring your throat and embracing the instinct to trust. Marrying your wild soul… The deepest magic of all.
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