#had to buy a fucking COMB a while back

[floralpunkbarton]

breaking into my partner's bedroom (walking into the open door and turning on the light) to commit dastardly crimes (digging to the bottom of their scrunchie drawer to take one they haven't used in a long time)

[cyrdling]

Lovey (Jason Todd x Reader Oneshot)

a/n: i really hope i wasn't gone too long, lol. hope you guys like the blog retheming! for the story, reader is broke and lives in a shitty apartment.

now, you didn't know jason todd was the red hood. how were you supposed to know that the total hunk with mysterious scars all over and a tendency to leave in the middle of the night was a fucking vigilante? okay, yeah, maybe you were a bit oblivious. but nobody could blame you for it, since you were slaving away at your job and you lived in gotham, for goodness sake. if you had one week without some random attack by the local crazies, you could count yourself lucky. this meant that the time you had outside of work and city-wide emergencies was very, very little- you couldn't really sleep all that much, and you couldn't do any of your hobbies. in essence, you weren't really living- just surviving. no time to think about pretty boy jason, or to figure out how to lie about being fine.

despite your oblivious nature, you knew jason was incredibly observant. you didn't need to know he was a vigilante (which, by the way, he still teases you for) to know that he's very aware of his surroundings. he takes care to be very, very aware of where you are- other things he doesn't really care about. he wants to make sure he knows where you are so he doesn't hurt you if you startle him. he just wants to be as gentle with you as possible. however, because of his observance, he's noticed something is up with you.

he wakes up in the morning to you rushing to get ready for work, remembering how late you went to bed last night. he decides to say something.

"sweetheart, why are you going to work? you slept so late last night," he practically mumbles. he has to keep his voice quiet, or else you might notice the soft little whine to it- he just wants to cuddle and keep you close, so not being able to absolutely breaks his big heart.

"sorry, jay- i need to work, i won't be affording this apartment and i can't miss a day just because i'm too tired. i know you'll miss me, baby, but i'll be back before you know it," you tell him, speaking at a volume normal to you, sure, but the quiet paradise of your bedroom was practically shaking from the sound. jason sighs, giving you his best puppy dog eyes to try and guilt you into staying. you're his little angel, he wants to hug you like a teddy bear while he curls up under your blankets.

you sigh, kissing him on the lips, while his adorable tactic doesn't help his case. then, you grab your phone, and leave. he sighs, deep and tired, as he pulls out his phone to check the time before he gets up. he goes through his morning routine without you- brushing his teeth, combing his hair, putting on his sweats and a tee shirt, eating a balanced breakfast (which he's very sure you didn't do, because the one he made for you and put in the fridge is untouched) and then sitting down in front of the television to think about you.

now, jason doesn't think about you every second of every day- he has to figure out how to save the city, after all- but he definitely comes close. he'll be walking down the street and see some items you might like, in a little storefront. he's watching television, and an ad for that one show you like shows up, and he looks to his side to talk about it with you, but you're not there. he decides that if he wants you to be happier, he'd have to do a lot of work.

first, he goes to the grocery store and buys all the stuff you're running out of, and stuff you've said you wanted to try but never had the funds. he even gets a couple extra things he thinks you might like, too, even if you've never said anything about them. he racks up quite the bill, but it's fine- bruce will pay for it.

second, he goes to a furniture store to replace your ratty couch and get you something cute and nice. he gets you some insanely expensive furniture, especially in comparison with what you bought for yourself, and even got you a couple knickknacks from an antique store nearby. like the first bill jason got, bruce will, once again, pay for it.

last, he goes to the wayne manor. there's some things he wants to get that he can't exactly buy- mainly sentimental things- but he wants to show you that he's making an effort to trust you, and turn your apartment into a home. he gets some framed photos off the walls of his old bedroom, some books, and other little things that he thinks you might find cute. while he's carrying his huge bag of goods, he comes across bruce. they stare each other down for a while, and bruce speaks first.

"is this for your partner?" he asks, stern voice bouncing off the walls and buzzing in jason's skull.

jason smirks, "yeah. what's it to you?" the last word ending in a slight raise of his voice.

bruce sighs. "nothing. just tell me the next time you plan to spend that much money in one day," with that, he turns and leaves- a barely imperceptible smile on his face at the fact that finally, finally jason has found someone to love.

jason hops in his car- he couldn't trust himself to carry that much on his bike, let's be honest- and drives back to your apartment. he drags all his luggage up to your floor, struggling only slightly to open your door. thankfully, all of the furniture he got was delivered- thank goodness for money- and he just took a few trips to carry it up (and also had dick help some).

with all of these things in his sight, he suddenly became insecure. what if you didn't like the foods he got you? what if you didn't like the furniture, or thought the stuff from his childhood room was stupid?

he heard footsteps down the hall.

heard someone fiddling with their keys.

heard the door opening.

you came in, and saw him in the center of a long day of work- his eyes widen, and he greets you- nervously, stuttering a little, just a bit too loud for the situation.

"hey, sweetheart- um- i got you some things," he sighs, almost defeated. oh god, you're gonna hate him. you're gonna leave him for someone who knows what gifts to get you, who knows how to talk to you about things. he feels his palms going clammy, his heart thundering away in his chest, his lungs struggling for air- wait, why are you smiling? you're not supposed to be smiling. does this mean you're happy with this? you laugh, and he feels his heart shoot directly through the upper floors of your apartment and into the stratosphere. he's sure you'd be losing your security deposit for that, but he can't bring himself to care. he'd pay for it, a million times over, just for you.

with his help, you put all of the food away, throw out your ratty couch, rearrange the furniture, and set up the knickknacks and sentimental items around the place. the entire way through, though, jason stares at you starstruck- if you look close enough, you might be able to see the hearts forming in his eyes. he, in his ever-helpful wisdom, told you to quit your job. when you ask why, he only told you one thing- and he kept repeating it whenever you'd ask.

he'd tell you, "it's my job to take care of you, lovey. i'll pay for it," his eyes full of love and his thumb caressing your cheek. he is quite the partner, ain't he?

please reblog if you enjoyed this one!! i definitely had a lot of fun writing it!

[catsgut]

uhmm so… you asked for more scumbag!toji… i just… fucking his enemy’s (gojo’s) sister on gojo’s bed??? i’m sorry i’m thinking with my 😺 rn… even better if shes a virgin

THIS IS SO GOOD(ノ ̿ ̿ᴥ ̿ ̿)ノ you’re so smart hehe…. i made this kinda long? bc it was sm fun to write also i luv my baby so much i gotta treat her <3

warnings: drugs, geto and gojo are sleezey, toji is.. scummy, loss of virginity, SPITTTTT, dubcon kinda, size kink galore, blood, rough sex, UMMM INCEST SORTA HELLOOOOOOOOO

honestly, you didn’t care for your brother very much. he was condescending and didn’t have very good morals. you could tell his priorities were all wrong and twisted, but it was him or your parents, and you’d take satoru any day. at least he didn’t put almost impossible expectations on you. in fact, the only things he expected if you was to cover your share of rent and buy groceries.

and geto was nice enough. he, for some reason, was always up early enough to talk to you before you went to class. the conversations were normal for the most part, but the loud moans coming from his bedroom most nights were enough to keep you permanently pissed off at him. he seemed to think it was funny, constantly teasing you about how good he made “that bitch” feel. you couldn’t deny he was attractive, but he teased you too much to give it any thought.

you still went to college and tried your best to set yourself up for success, but it was hard when you had to come home to your man child brother and his equally immature roommate. the house constantly smelled like weed and you were worried it would stick to your clothes. you didn’t want anyone to get a bad impression of you, but of course that was impossible when satoru was your brother.

you knew they made most of their money through selling drugs, but you had no idea the extent to it. it wasn’t that they didnt want you to know, you were just always horded up in your bedroom whenever you weren’t in class. not once had you ever come out while they had people over, not wanting to have to hold a conversation with your brothers brain dead friends.

but tonight you just really had to use the bathroom. you tried your best to hold it, sucking the end of your pen and you tried putting your focus on studying, but as the time ticked on your bladder slowly started burning.

“fuck,” you groaned. maybe you could sneak into the bathroom without being noticed, so you put your house slippers on and slowly opened your door a crack. you could see geto sitting on the love seat facing another man sitting on the couch opposite of him. you hadn’t ever seen him before, but by the look of his back you could tell he was very big. his hair was dark and shoulders broad. they were talking in quiet voices, but the man sounded annoyed. you could slightly make out your brothers name being said in an aggravated tone.

tiptoeing into the hallway, you hurried into the bathroom and quietly shut the door. you didn’t know why your heartbeat was beating so hard, but nonetheless you were glad you made it into the bathroom unnoticed. you did your business and combed your fingers through your hair. looking into the mirror, you saw you looked tired with bags under your eyes. probably from all the sleepless nights studying.

quietly, you opened the bathroom door hoping they were still occupied with talking. not seeing anyone, you opened it fully and stepped out. you thought you were in the clear before you heard a voice.

“y/n?” geto called out from the living room, dread filling your body. shit. they never made you talk to any of the guests they invited over, so why now of all times? “yeah?” you called out, voice sounding small as you walked into the living room. the man was now facing you and you could make out a scar on his lips. he was handsome for sure, but looked scary, someone you should stay away from— you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your tummy.

“yeah, geto?” you asked again looking over at your roommate. he smiled sweetly, something that always threw you off. “have you heard from your brother at all? he owes toji here a lot of money, but we can’t seem to get a hold of him.”

you rolled your eyes. that sounded like satoru. “um he’s probably with a girl or somethin’,” you rubbed your clothed foot against your ankle.

“that’s too bad,” you heard geto say, but you weren’t really listening. looking back over at the man you saw he was no longer looking at you. you were able to get a better view of him, seeing just how big he was. his tight black shirt hugged his body nicely and he was pairing it with some grey sweatpants. his legs were spread out and part of you wished you were between him.

you looked back over at geto and saw he was grinning. he gestured over to toji with his eyes and winked. you could feel your face heating up in embarrassment. “well i have a paper to write… so uh goodnight.” you looked back to toji and smiled politely before going back into the safety of your bedroom.

that night when you laid in your bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about toji. he looked exactly like the type of man you should stay away from, but it was that very reason that had you grinding down on your pillow that night.

a couple days had past and you hadn’t heard from your brother. this wasn’t uncommon as he liked to lay low when someone was searching for him, so you brushed it off thinking it was just your brother being the typical asshole he was. geto seemed to be gone a lot, too. that was more uncommon, but non of your business. it was actually nice to have the house to yourself for once. you got some cleaning done and even got all caught up on homework.

you were currently sitting on the couch scrolling through your phone when there was a loud knock on the door. it startled you, but you got up to open it anyway thinking one of them misplaced their key (something that happened often.) what you weren’t expecting to see was an angry looking toji. “c-can um i help you?” you tried to sound nice but it just came out frightened.

“no, but gojo can. he home?” his voice was low and you wondered if satoru had really fucked up this time. this time you tried to muster up all your confidence saying “no, he isn’t home. you can go now,” but that only seemed to annoy him even more.

he shoved past you, yelling your brothers name. the sudden action made you stumble back in fear of what he was going to do to. you didn’t have it in you to fight back only telling him again that he wasn’t here.

“well i guess ill hang around till he gets back. your brother owes me money an’ im not leavin’ till i get somethin’.” he sat his large body on the couch and sighed. you watched him close his eyes and cross his arms as if he was going to sleep.

“would you like something to drink?” you didn’t know why you were trying to be nice to him after he clearly invited himself inside, but you couldn’t help but want his attention. not saying a word, his eyes opened and stared at you. “we have water and um juice.”

toji continued to stare at you only he was smiling now. it didn’t look friendly, but that feeling in the pit of your stomach slowly started to return. “how about you hang out with me over here,” he suggested, beckoning you one with his ring and middle finger. you didn’t understand, but he was making a motion that looked similar to fingering a girl.

nervously, you went over and sat next to him. despite the uneasy feeling you were getting, this was the most exciting thing you’ve done in a long time. you’ve never been this close to a man like him. the way he stared down at you made you feel small.

“man you’re cute, you sure you’re gojo’s sister?” he smiled and for a second he looked kind. you giggled nervously at his question feeling your face heat up. “um thank you.” the tension in the air was thick and you weren’t sure if you could keep this up. you knew it was wrong to let a man talk to you like this, but you were too scared to do anything about it. if anything, you wanted more.

“my brother might not be home for a while.” you heard yourself say while fidgeting with your fingers. “you can still um.. stay here though.” closing your eyes, you could feel his hot breath on the side of your face. it didn’t smell the best, but the wet patch growing in your panties distracted you.

“i don’t mind spendin’ some time with you, little girl.” you gulped and looked back up to his to see his face was only a couple inches from yours. you could understand that you brother absolutely did not like this man, but that didn’t stop you from closing your eyes when toji leaned in. you opened your mouth obediently, letting his big tongue dig around in it.

toji chuckled at your inexperience and grabbed at your thighs. they were squeezed together, trying desperately to get some friction. “damn you’re a little slut,” he groaned into your mouth. “lettin’ a stranger touch you like this.”

you whimpered when you felt his fingers get tangled in your hair. you couldn’t lie that this was exciting. for once in your life you felt so good doing something so bad. this man could be anyone, could do anything to you, but you were counting on it. in this moment, he could be a murderer and you would spread your little legs for him.

your tongue was hanging out from between your lips, drool dripping onto your lap. toji was kissing and biting the skin on your neck, one hand in your hair and the other lifting one of your legs to your chest. he leaned down to peak under your skirt and you watched him grin.

you brought your hands up to cover your face when toji got down on his knees and spread your legs. he pressed his tongue against your panties and sucked harshly. you peeked at him through your fingers, eyes wide in pleasure.

your fingers could never make you feel this good. your whole pussy was now on toji’s mouth. he was being so nasty the way his saliva soaked your panties.

“u-um can we go to the bed… please?” the thought of geto coming home and seeing you like this made you shiver. you would never be able to live it down.

“anything f’this pussy,” he laughed and scooped you up by your armpits. he carried you down the hallway with ease and into a random room. you instantly recognized it at satoru’s, but toji didn’t seem to care. his shirt was already off by the time he set you down and that was enough for you not to care either.

“look at you turnin’ into such a little whore.” you lifted your tank top over your tits to show him your lacey bra. trying your best to look seductive, you pulled your panties halfway down your thighs. toji didn’t seem to care about your little performance, though, instead forcing you on all fours. your face hit the comforter of satoru’s bed and you were suddenly aware of how real the situation was. you could smell your big brother as toji slid his fat tip up and down your pussy lips.

“w-wait m’not read-“ your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pushed himself in all the way. with a loud groan, toji began force fucking you into the mattress.

this was sex? you’ve never felt this kind of pain in your life. “shit— you a virgin?” you heard him ask after seeing blood on his cock. he still didn’t slow down, instead picking up his pace. one thing about toji was he loved fucking girls dumb. especially, virgins.

your fingers reached up to grab a pillow to bury your face into. the sudden guilt of fucking this man in your brothers bed brought tears to your eyes. “ssstru,” you tried to moan out to your brother, eyes crossing when toji propped a foot on the bed to get deeper angle.

“ha! you really are a slut! moanin’ out your brothers name while i tear this pussy up.” you whimpered at his words knowing he was right. you couldn’t hide the fact you were close to your orgasm with the way your pussy was leaving a white ring around his cock.

“ah ah!” your moans filled the room as he rammed into you. you could tell he was close too when he leaned forward to press his big chest against your back. “gnna cum in this kitty,” he groaned in your ear before biting it. you tried to protest but he covered your mouth with a hand. not long after you felt warmth filling your insides. toji’s pace slowed as he fucked his cum in you, babbling about how he was going to “knock you up as pay back.”

you were too fucked out to care, though, laying there as he pulled out and stood. you listened to him wiping his dick off with a random shirt he found before dressing himself and leaving the room. you listened to him rummage through the living room, probably for cash or weed. you listened to the front door shut and then a few minutes later you heard it open again.

dread filled your body when familiar voices filled the hallway near the door. your legs hurt too much to move, so you braced yourself as the footsteps neared.

no one said anything, already knowing of the situation. you laid there, silently crying, back arched and bare ass exposed with cum leaking out of your pussy, while gojo and geto stood in the doorway. geto looked unbothered as he stepped closer to get a better look, the tent in his pants and obvious sign he liked what he saw.

gojo on the other hand looked furious. he knew toji was up to no good when he saw his smugly leave his front door, not even asking him for the money he owed. he knew he took something of similar value, just not that he took this.

his eyes traveled down to your lower half and he understood why geto wanted a better look. you looked so erotic with cum leaking out of your hole and red hand prints on your ass.

gojo turned around and walked out of the room in denial, but deep down, he knew there was no other explanation for the hardness in his pants.

[aurorawritestoescape]

WHO’S YOUR DADDY?

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 2,7k

Part 2 of Table for Three (can be read alone)

Summary: Joel Face Times you.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm (kinda), not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, squirting, m!oral, f/m masturbation, cum eating, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetie). Pics are for the mood only, reader has hair, but no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I saw that video and had to write this. Pedro is such a menace! Warm hugs to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b❤️Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing💖 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Hope you’ll like it! Love you all😘

Pt 1 TABLE FOR THREE || GET A TASTE || MASTERLIST

“Who’s your daddy?”

“Fuck off, Joel, you know it’s not you.”

Joel is Face Timing you while you’re still lying in bed in the early afternoon after a night of passionate fucking with your boyfriend Dave.

You are surprised by your ex’s call but can’t deny that after last week when you sucked him off at a restaurant, meanwhile sitting on Dave’s cock, the surprise is pleasant.

Joel’s in his bedroom, judging by the background, and he looks so hot, you immediately gush. His hair is slicked back, chocolatey eyes sparking with mischief and his five day stubble is calling to be rubbed against your pussy.

“Yeah, I know Dave’s your dom daddy now. Is he with ya?”

“Dom daddy,” you snicker, rolling your eyes, “you watch too much porn, Joel.”

“Yeah, ya think I’m beating my own meat every day, cryin’ over you, babe?

“Aren’t you?”

You both stare at each other but Joel cracks first as a smile tugs at his lips and you both laugh. After a few moments you remember the question he asked.

“Dave’s in the kitchen. Why are you calling? I thought you had me blocked. Or vice versa.”

“Well, i reckon, none of us could say ‘goodbye’”.

“Oh, I can now. Bye, Joel!”

“Wait, wait, baby,” he gruffs hastily through the phone speaker, stopping you from hanging up.

“What?”

“I need to ask ya somethin’. ‘s important”. He narrows his eyes, his expression is serious.

“What is it?”

Joel’s squinting at you for a few seconds while you’re taking in his combed back curls, his handsome tanned face, broad shoulders under a plaid shirt. Every time he talks, his voice makes your pussy tingle, sounding even sexier through the phone. Finally he breaks the silence.

“What are you wearin’?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re an asshole, Joel.”

“I’m just a man in love.”

You giggle, raising your brows and shaking your head in disbelief.

“You hated me a few days ago.”

“I did, baby. But I let the past go.”

You take a deep breath, feeling your guilt for what you did years ago slightly lifted off your heart.

“So?” He presses.

“I’m not telling you, Joel.”

“Ok, then just show me.”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Your eyes dart to the door where you hear Dave, making breakfast for you two. You don’t think he would mind you flirting with your ex a little, considering he let you give the older man a handie in front of him. Besides, you look very cute in your sexy nightie with nothing else underneath so you change the angle of the phone so Joel could peek at your body, splayed on the bed, a blanket covering just a part of your leg.

You hear a whistle and your heart sings.

“Pretty, babygirl. Did he buy it for ya?”

“He did,” you reply with defiance in your voice.

“‘s he rich?”

“Dave’s doing fine. But I’m with him not because of money if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Ain’t implying anythin’.”

Then you just look at each other as the air in the rooms gets heavier and a light flirting morphs into something else. Joel breaks the silence first.

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

You haven’t expected that and suddenly your throat gets squeezed with emotions.

“Thank you, Joel,” you say softly.

“Who are you talking to?”

Dave walks into the room with two mugs of coffee and the aroma quickly fills the bedroom. He’s wearing a gray tee and a pair of sweatpants.

“Joel’s FaceTiming me.”

“Joel?” Dave repeats with his brows raised.

He puts the coffees on the nightstand and lies down next to you and your mouth waters as his scent engulfs you.

You shift the position of the phone so Joel could see you both and Dave greets your ex.

“Joel says that he’s happy for me,” you tell your boyfriend with excitement in your voice.

“Oh, thank you, Joel. I’m glad that you two solved your past issues.”

“Her apology really helped, man. I wouldn’t say no to another one though.”

Joel winks at you and Dave smirks, “I understand. She’s very good at apologizing.”

Your eyes are darting between the two men. You can’t shake the feeling of wanting them both and your pussy tingles with desire. Dave’s body pressed to yours sends a surge of arousal to your core and you feel the cold air of the room on your bare wet folds and shiver with excitement. Joel is making you even hornier. He looks hot and masculine with his slightly wet hair. He must have had a shower.

For a second you remember how he made you squirt for the first time. On his knees in the shower in front of you he licked at your pussy and sucked your clit until your legs started trembling but he didn’t stop and began pumping his thick fingers into you, curving them and pushing on that sweet spot in your burning core. In no time you were spraying your juices everywhere, his hand squelching against your folds as he was repeatedly hitting your clit with the heel of his palm. Only your hands on his broad shoulders helped you not to collapse on the floor.

“Kitten!”

Dave calls you, not for the first time apparently, and you blink at him trying to shake the images of the past that were occupying your mind just a second ago.

Joel laughs, “Babygirl, were you thinking of us just now?”

“No,” you mumble, averting your eyes from both of them.

“You’re lying,” Dave says, not asking, and you see his gaze darken. It’s filled with curiosity and lust.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I—I just,” you stutter, looking at one man and then the other.

“It’s ok, kitten. You two had a past. Daddy wants to know.”

You swallow loudly and reply, “I was remembering—.” It’s so quiet in the room. “—how Joel made me squirt for the first time.”

Joel’s smug grin can be seen from fucking space. He looks sickeningly proud of himself and you immediately regret telling them.

Dave smiles carnally, as if he was waiting for that, and asks,

“How did it happen?”

“In the shower. He ate me out and fingered me.”

Dave turns his face to your phone and asks Joel, “Did you plan on doing it?”

“Yeah, I wanted her to squirt all over me. Does she squirt with you?”

“Yes, she’s a talented girl. Thank you for giving her her first time,” your boyfriend says to your ex and you’re afraid that you’re going to soak through your nightie. But Dave doesn’t give you a respite.

“Kitten, say ‘thank you’ to Joel.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you purr obediently and the older man winks at you through the screen.

“You’re welcome, babygirl.”

You see Dave adjust himself and notice that his prominent bulge has grown even bigger since he joined you two on the bed. He’s enjoying Joel’s call just as much as you are.

Not being able to wait any longer, you get closer to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder. With your big eyes looking up at him, batting your lashes the way you know makes his cock twitch, you ask,

“Can we fuck, daddy?”

You hear Joel curse under his breath and then groan. It’s clear that he wishes to be here with you.

“It’s a little rude, baby,” Dave chides you, “We haven’t finished talking to our friend, have we?”

You whine, pouting your lips and he turns to you and pecks your nose.

“How about you put your pretty mouth on my cock and I’ll talk to Joel.”

You hear Joel’s half chuckle-half grunt and almost drool at the suggestion and swiftly reply with an ‘ok, daddy.”

Then you give Dave your phone and climb down the bed, getting comfortable between your boyfriend’s legs, your head hovering over his huge bulge.

“We can talk, Joel, but maybe you’d like to watch as well?”

You don’t see your ex but you know his eyes are obsidian with lust right now.

“Fuck, yeah. Show me what our— your little slut is up to.”

Dave presses the reverse camera button and positions it with his big hands so Joel can see you perfectly.

By now you have already freed Dave’s semi hard cock and it twitches as you’re holding it inches from your lips. You smile at the camera and give Joel a wink.

“Show daddies what that mouth’s good for,” Joel encourages you and Dave smirks, “You’re right. Sucking cock is truly her calling.”

Eager to prove them right you wrap your hand around the base of Dave’s cock tighter, open your lips and circle them around the fat head.

Your boyfriend bucks his hips, impatient to slide his whole length into your mouth, but you decide to give them both a show so you lick a wet languid stripe from the base of Dave’s cock to the weeping tip, covering the underside with your warm saliva.

Then you kitten-lick the slit, gathering his clear precum, and a moan escapes your lips at the taste, as you flutter your eyes shut.

“Shit, Dave, ya lucky bastard.”

“Her mouth is fucking heaven, Joel. Baby, show our friend what you can do to daddy’s balls.”

You smile and nod, before lowering your head. Your hand is still holding Dave’s cock but your tongue is now licking at your boyfriend’s balls, and you tilt your head to get a better angle.

“Fuck, babygirl. Doin’ real good,” you hear Joel’s praise, followed by a sound of a zipper.

Your ears immediately perk up and you ask, parting from Dave’s balls for a moment,

“Joel, are you gonna jerk off?”

“‘m afraid so, sweetheart. If Dave doesn’t mind.”

“I don’t, Joel,” Dave says, his half lidded eyes shifting between you, gliding your cheek against his cock, and the man on the screen, “let’s see if this little slut can make two men come. A bit of a challenge for my kitten.”

You purr at his words, feeling your heated pussy ache with need and pressing your thighs together.

“Can I touch myself, daddy?” You ask as impatience paints your words.

“Not yet, baby. Work my balls a little more and maybe I’ll let you come.”

The hope is all you need so you get back to Dave’s heavy balls and start sucking on them, licking the seam and then open your jaw wide to take one in your mouth. As you’re rolling it with your tongue, you hear Joel’s growling and the sound of him fucking his fist.

Dave’s eyes are set on your lips wrapped around his ball but from time to time his gaze flicks to the phone where Joel is pumping his cock and you moan at the fact that the image of your ex, pleasuring himself turns on your boyfriend.

Dave’s dominant, always controls the situation, but you’ve noticed that he loves seeing what you do to other men, how much you affect them. You suspect that’s one of the reasons why he loves such a giant slut like you.

“Ok, kitten, get to the main course,” Dave commands and you part from his ball with a pop so you could give his cock your full attention.

Through the squelching sounds coming through the speaker you hear Joel encouraging you,

“Yeah, deepthroat that cock, babygirl. Still can’t forget how good you could swallow me. Remember, sweetie?”

You slightly nod with your boyfriend's tip already breaching your puffy lips. You unhinge your jaw and slowly take him all in, soon nuzzling his trimmed hair. Dave groans and clenches your hair with a tight grip, gently rolling his hips to help you swallow him.

“That’s my good girl. Take everything I give you. Make daddy proud.”

Your throat contracts around your boyfriend’s cock while the fap-fap-fap noises, coming from the phone, are getting faster.

“Fuck, Dave, are we gonna come at the same time?”

Dave chuckles as his dark eyes almost close with pleasure.

“Yeah, I’m gonna feed it to her soon. Get ready.”

“Let’s do it, man,” Joel almost moans.

“You too, kitten. Play with your little pussy. Bet it’s so messy right now.”

You take Dave’s cock out of your mouth and croak, “Thank you, daddy.”

To give them both the best view, you lift your ass in the air, getting on your knees, and the bottom of your nightie slides down to your waist. Now Dave and Joel can see your naked ass as a background of the blowie. Your hand slithers to your pussy and your fingers dip between your folds. Dave’s right — you’re dripping like a faucet.

You easily insert two fingers into your hole as your mouth swallows Dave’s cock again. You start plunging your digits in and out of your warm cunt, slightly rolling your hips while your head bobs as you’re massaging Dave’s manhood.

The groans of your boyfriend and your ex fill the room, mixing with your muffled moans and whimpers.

Dave’s leaking a lot into your eager mouth and you know he’s close.

“Fuck, if I was there with ya, we’d fuck all your holes, babygirl,” Joel grunts, his teeth clenched, as he’s probably trying not to bust his load just yet.

“Would you take her ass or her pussy, Joel?” Dave asks and your cunt clenches around your own fingers.

“You’d share her with me like that?” Joel asks.

“I’m a generous host, Joel. You can choose.”

“I’d fuck her pussy, pal. I miss it more than anything. She’s sloppy all the fucking time. Loved her sweet cunt.”

“‘k, I’d be fine with the ass. I work her open fast now. She sometimes wears a plug. Pretty little toy. We’ll show you one day.”

“Be happy to see it.”

Your ex and your boyfriend’s discussion about fucking your holes like you’re their mindless fuck toy is the final drop in a full glass of your pleasure and you overflow with ecstasy as your pussy spills squirt all over your hand, between your thighs and on the bed under you while you’re moaning loudly around Dave’s cock.

The vibrations of your throat and your euphoric expression makes him explode too and he satisfies your thirst, spurting his cum down your throat. Dave gives you so much, you almost choke on his thick load but swallow it swiftly again and again.

“Fuck yeah, babygirl, drink it up,” Joel groans, probably seeing the creamy seed, seeping out of the corners of your lips, and makes a loud grunt, the sound so familiar and dear to you.

You know he’s coming.

The noises from the speaker get wetter and you regret not being able to taste your ex too.

When you take everything Dave gives you, you pull your mouth away from his cock and rest your head on his hairy thigh, catching your breath and licking your puffy lips.

“You did it, kitten. You made us both come. And at the same time,” Dave praises you, gently patting your head, and you purr, closing your eyes with satisfaction. Your body is pleasantly tingling after a great orgasm.

“Can I talk to her, Dave?” you hear Joel’s tired voice and lift your head up.

“Of course,” Dave turns the screen to you and you see your ex’s face on the screen, cheeks redder than before, his eyes hazy. He smiles at you warmly and rasps,

“Thank you, babygirl. I enjoyed the show. Now I need another shower,” he laughs and you and Dave both follow.

“Ok, Joel, was good talking to you. Among other things,” Dave says, turning the phone back at him, “We should meet. We have a lot to discuss. And share.”

“Yeah, Dave. Any time.”

The promise of them both fucking you makes your pussy tingle again and you bite your lip, already daydreaming about it.

Dave hangs up and throws your phone on the bed.

“I’m proud of you, kitten. You did great. Now go get your prize and sit on daddy’s face. Let me clean this messy pussy.”

You almost squeal with excitement, immediately following his order.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!💖🌺

Table for Three || Get a Taste || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Also tagging some wonderful people who might be interested❤️ @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 15

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, angst, religious themes, religious guilt

Masterlist

Thanks to @flowerynerds for the banner!

Thanks to @throughwoodsanddirt for the beta!

Buy me a coffee

_____________________

Something sweet and floral hovered in the very front of Noah’s nostrils, tugging him out of his slumber. Warm and comforting, it was a scent he’d become familiar with but couldn’t place until he opened his eyes and saw your hair sprawled across the pillow. 

He stretched slowly, trying not to wake you as he slid out from under the blankets, slipped on his boots and stepped outside. 

Pissing with morning wood was never comfortable for him. Usually, he’d wait until it went down, but nature was one persistent motherfucker who kept calling, so he leaned against the edge of the shed and tried his best to aim for a pile of snow. He scrubbed his free hand over his face, noticing he could use a shave, then sighed, pressing his forehead to the freezing metal of the shed, closed his eyes, and allowed memories of last night to come flooding back to him. 

You on your back, legs spread, the feverish look in your eye as he tightened his hand around your wrists—you, arching into him as his lips skimmed the soft skin of your neck—you, writhing on top of him, crying out as you chased your high. You—face down on the floor as Noah spilled himself into you. 

Noah was no stranger to sex. In fact, he’d wager he was more experienced than most men his age, but he had never had it like that. That wasn’t just fucking. That was a religious experience. At one point, he felt his soul leave his body, floating somewhere in the ether, only to come slamming back down into him and shattering into a million pieces, one of which, he was pretty sure, lodged itself in you like a fucking horcrux. 

Noah had long ago given up the search for God, but there was a part of him that was convinced he found it in you last night. And if that wasn’t divine, he didn’t know what was. 

With a couple shakes and a quick cinch of his sweatpants drawstring, he stepped back inside, slid his boots off, and wrapped himself around you. His shift at the factory didn’t start until three, and he was intent on spending as much time as physically possible soaking in the feeling of your warm, silky skin against his before he left. 

When he curled his fingers around your waist to pull you closer, you stirred, stretching your arms overhead in a big yawn as you turned to face him, then draped them over his shoulders while you blinked yourself awake. 

“Morning,” you mumbled. 

“Morning,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. You chased his lips with yours, pressing a sleepy kiss into his mouth and Noah sighed, feeling like he could spend the rest of his life here with you, just like this. 

“Power’s back on,” he whispered, slipping his hand under your sweater and splaying his fingers across your belly. 

You sighed, smiling in your sleepy state. “Is that so?” 

You yawned again, and Noah took the opportunity to press his lips to your neck. You hummed in contentment, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“What time is it?” you whispered. 

“Just past ten,” he muttered against your collarbone. 

“If the power’s on, does that mean we can make coffee?” you asked, rubbing your eyes while Noah slid his hands further under your shirt to cup your breasts. 

“Mmm…in a minute,” he said, kneading the soft flesh. He dragged his lips to the area where your neck and shoulder met, nipping and then soothing the spot with his tongue.  

You threw your head back, laughter escaping your mouth and sounding like a sweet melody to his ears. You scraped your nails softly over his shoulders as his hands trailed lower down your body, making their way towards the vice he craved much more than coffee. 

“Okay, okay,” you sighed through a smile sitting up and reaching for your purse while Noah tried to work his hand past the elastic waistband of your panties. He had finally, finally hooked his fingers underneath the elastic when you playfully swatted his hand away

“Let me at least plug my phone in.” You grinned, donning that sultry tone that tied him into knots. Noah groaned, rolling onto his back. He stared at the ceiling while he waited for you to finish. 

“By all means, take forever,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Absolute baby,” you whispered, scoffing to yourself while you knelt beneath the desk, searching for an outlet. “Acting like we didn’t just have sex a few hours ago.” 

“That’s far too long in my book,” he said, eyes landing on your ass. Noah couldn’t help himself. He knelt behind you, hips pressed up against yours so you could feel just how achingly hard he was. 

You chuckled, wiggling your hips around to taunt him and it wasn’t fair how absolutely whipped he was for you. He grasped your hips, pulling them into his to sate his desire for  some degree of friction. 

He reached around to rub you over your sweats and heard you sigh softly as you finally found the outlet. When you turned around to face him, you draped your arms over his shoulders. 

“Someone’s needy this morning,” you whispered, pressing your plush lips against his. 

Noah sat back, pulling you into his lap. “Can you blame me?” he asked, clutching at your waist and guiding your hips back and forth. If he didn’t get inside you soon, he was going to lose it.

You sighed into his mouth, running your nails along his scalp. Goosebumps erupted all over his flesh, sparking his nerve endings to life and he had to fight to keep himself grounded. 

“I have an idea,” he said, breaking the kiss. He tucked his thumbs underneath the waistband of your pants and started to drag them down over your hips. “What if you take these off and we see what happens?” 

“Oh,” you said in mock surprise, smiling down at him from where you were perched, “is that your idea?” 

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty brilliant,” he grinned, sliding your pants the rest of the way off and you allowed him, lifting your hips to make them easier to remove. 

As soon as your sweatpants were off of your ankles, they were chucked into the corner of the room, Noah’s hand made a beeline for your pussy, sliding his fingers between the folds to find you already delightfully slick. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers slipped into you with little effort on his part, and a low moan escaped from between your parted lips.

If Noah could play that sound on loop in his head, he’d never get tired of it. 

Somewhere behind you, a phone chimed. Ignoring it, you fumbled with the drawstring on his sweats hurrying to untie them. Noah momentarily withdrew his fingers from you so he could lift his hips and let you inch his pants down his legs, freeing his cock. 

Just like he did last night, he suckedhis fingers clean, losing himself in the salty, sweet, full-bodied taste of you. At some point today, he was going to bury his face in you. He made a mental note to check that off his list before he went to work. 

You dropped back down, sliding your naked pussy over his cock, causing it to twitch. He was painfully hard and extra sensitive.. “Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned low as you started rocking back and forth on him. He could just die at how warm and wet it was. Noah knew that fucking you without protection wasn’t a good idea, but he’d have given anything to sheath himself in you raw at that moment. 

You brought your lips to his, kissing him sweetly as the phone chimed again. He chuckled into the kiss. “Someone’s popular today,” he whispered. 

You smiled, humming an impatient sigh and moving your hips with more intensity. “Ava’s probably bored. I’ll talk to her later.” 

Noah was more than happy to help you ignore your phone, gathering your hair in a fist at the base of your skull and pulling to expose your neck to him. In the daylight, and at this angle, he could fully admire his handiwork—a kaleidoscope of angry purple and red marks up and down your neck. He swelled with pride, knowing he was the one who had put them there. He’d left his mark on you— he’d claimed you as his own, and now everyone would know. 

The phone chimed several more times. You glanced over at it and Noah rolled his eyes, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at back at him. “Ignore it,” he commanded.  

You nodded, and as a reward, Noah dipped his thumb into your mouth, which you gratefully swirled your tongue over and around while moaning, and fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing Noah’d ever witnessed. 

“Come here,” he grunted, pulling you into a deep kiss, licking into your mouth and sucking on your lips until they were red and swollen. You ate it up, whimpering into the kiss and he had to get inside of you immediately or else he’d die. He’d just die right there. 

“Hold on, let me grab a condom,” he said, reluctantly shifting you off him so he could search for the stash he’d kept in his pockets, grateful to his past self for having the forethought to keep them on-hand. 

All the while, the flood of notifications chimed incessantly from your phone and Noah was about to throw the goddamned thing out the window if it didn’t stop distracting him.  

“Can you silence it?” he called to you over his shoulder, huffing with satisfaction and unsated desire when his fingertips found a foil wrapper. 

“Yeah,” you said, reaching for it just as a call started ringing. 

You sighed, shaking your head as you scanned the caller ID. .“Ugh, it’s my parents. They’re probably worried about the storm. I’ll call them back later.” Ignoring the call, you locked your phone and tossed it back onto the floor.  

Noah pulled you towards him by the ankles and you yelped as your body slid into his. You erupted into a fit of giggles, draping your legs on either side of Noah as you sprawled out on the carpet. You were the most beautiful thing Noah had ever seen in that moment, like a goddess splayed out before him on the nest of blankets. 

Quickly, he grabbed his phone off his desk and opened his camera app. 

“What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” he said, right before the shutter sound chimed. 

“Delete that!” you said, reaching for the phone. 

“No!” he said, placing his palm on your chest to keep you on the carpet. There was no way you could overpower him, but it was adorable to watch you try. “It’s mine.” 

Huffing once you realized it wasn’t going to work, you fell back down to the nest of blankets on the floor. “Don’t show anyone,” you warned. 

“I’d never,” Noah replied, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his cock, which had become painfully hard by that point. Groaning, he soaked in the sensation of you rubbing up and down his shaft and he pushed the condom into your other hand. 

The phone started ringing again and you turned to see the screen. Noah was three seconds away from throwing that fucking phone out into the snow. 

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you from reaching for it. 

“I’m just going to silence it,” you said, pecking him on the lips. Noah let go, falling back onto his heels and sighing as he gave in and stroked his cock pathetically a few times. 

“Shit!” you whispered, staring at the screen and in an instant, your demeanor shifted to worried. His heart pounded against his ribcage, and for one selfish moment, his only concern was the tightness in his balls and how whatever you saw on your phone threatened his chance to release it. 

“What’s wrong?” Noah asked, catching himself. The blood drained from your face, and he swallowed thickly, willing his thoughts away from his groin and back onto you. 

“It’s my dad,” you said, scrolling through the notifications on your screen. “He’s here.” 

“He’s here?!” Noah half-shouted, causing you to jump. “Sorry,” he said, controlling his volume. “I mean, he’s here? I thought you said your parents were in Africa.” Kneeling behind you, he wrapped an arm around your middle, resting his chin on your shoulder to see the screen. A long string of texts appeared, each one growing angrier and angrier in tone. 

“They were,” you said, panic rising in your wavering tone. “They came home yesterday after they heard about the storm. I guess they’ve been trying to reach me all night.” With shaky hands, you typed your passcode to begin a reply, when the screen lit up with another phone call from “Dad”.

“Don’t answer,” Noah whispered, already knowing it was a lost cause. He rested his forehead on your shoulder as you swiped to accept it. 

“Dad?” you asked, voice more timid than he’d ever heard. You got to your feet and started pacing around the small space, the absence of your skin on his leaving him feeling cold and empty.  

He couldn’t hear what your father was saying, but judging by the stern, tinny tone coming through the speaker, he could tell your father was not happy. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I stayed at a friend’s.” 

The voice sounded again, and Noah watched as a parade of emotions danced across your face. First concern, then guilt, sadness, and finally, fear. 

“I know. My phone died. I’m sorry,” you said, and your voice cracked on the last word. He was at a loss for how to comfort you. All he could do was regretfully pull his clothes back on and watch you anxiously pace back and forth, biting your nails and curling into yourself.

“Now?” you asked. “But I—,” you began, but you were cut off by another loud lecture on the other end of the line. “Okay,” you said at last. “Okay just—just hold on. I’ll be there in a minute. Love you.” 

As soon as you ended the call, your eyes snapped to his, his heart folding in on itself when he saw the fear in your misty eyes. Wordlessly, you buried your head in his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, rocking you back and forth. There was a rock weighing heavy in the pit of his stomach and he had a horrible feeling about what you might be going home to. More than anything, he wanted to keep you in the safety of his embrace, but he knew he only had mere moments left with you. 

“Stay,” he whispered, knowing full well that you wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, words coming out choked. 

“Please? I just got you.” 

“I c—,” you began but your breath hitched and you choked back a sob. “Noah, I can’t.” 

Noah pulled back, taking your face in his hands and wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I’ll walk you.” 

You shook your head, sniffling. “He can’t see you. He can’t know I was with you.” 

His heart wrenched inside his chest. He tried his best to calm himself—tell himself it would be okay. Christmas break would be over in a few weeks and he’d have you back.

He helped you find your clothes and search around the room for your things, and when that was done, he stood in the doorway as you laced up your boots, shaky fingers fumbling as you hurriedly tied them. 

At last, you stood. Noah scanned over your face, searching for affirmation that you’d be okay, but he couldn’t find any. Instead, he saw only fear and regret. 

“Call me?” you asked sniffling, and Noah nodded. 

“Every night if I need to,” he reassured, and your face melted into a teary smile despite everything you were feeling. 

Noah wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close and kissing you deeply—as deeply as he could in the limited time frame he had. Salty, fresh tears seeped through the kiss and onto his tongue, and Noah tried to memorize the taste and the exact shape of you in his arms so he could dream about it while you were gone. 

The kiss lingered, both of you hesitant to break it, but eventually it was you who pulled away first. “I have to go,” you whispered and Noah knew it was time to let go, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it until you pried yourself out of his embrace. 

You took a few hesitant steps toward the road, then stopped, turning back to him.

“Noah?” You paused to worry at your lip. “I…,” 

You trailed off, unable to finish your thought. 

But Noah understood. He knew the exact words on the tip of your tongue, because they were on the tip of his, unable to launch themselves past his lips, but still very, very real in their meaning.

“I know,” he said. “Me too.” 

With one last look, you took a few steps backward, then turned on your heel, and took off running toward campus. 

________

Noah knew it was risky to follow you. He knew it was a bad idea to chance being seen, but he couldn’t help it. He had to make sure you were okay. 

He stayed a safe distance away—fifty yards or so, but he kept his head down and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while he jogged after you. 

He stopped across the street from campus, hiding himself behind an SUV parked on the side of the road while he watched the scene before him unfold. 

There your father stood: a man of impressive size. He had to be at least six feet tall, possibly taller, with at least thirty more pounds of muscle than Noah’d been able to achieve. He had that father-strength—the kind that comes from half a century’s worth of toil that Noah wouldn’t be able to achieve for at least another thirty years. 

You stopped just a few steps short of him, and not a full second passed before your dad launched into a lecture. Noah couldn’t make out the words over the wind, but he could tell by the way your father gesticulated wildly around him that he was livid. 

You stood unmoving as the hair whipped around your face, head bowed and eyes trained on the ground in front of you, and Noah wasn’t close enough to see the actual tears falling in front of your face, but he knew you well enough to know they were there. 

His hands clenched themselves into fists on their own accord, itching to swing. Every bone in his body begged him to march over there and defend you, but he knew it would only make things worse. So, begrudgingly, he held himself back and watched. 

Finally, after what may have been ten minutes of tirade, you dad pointed towards your dorm building and you nodded, disappearing inside of it and reappearing a few minutes later with a backpack and a duffel bag. 

Then you loaded them into your father’s white pickup. 

Then you climbed into the passenger’s seat. 

Then the truck drove away, taking a piece of Noah’s heart with it. 

________

“And on top of that, you haven’t been attending church?” your father scolded, passing a silver Corolla on the highway without using his turn signal. 

“Who told you that?” you asked. 

Your dad’s lecture continued in the car. He was angry with you for not checking in with him, he’d explained, knowing you could have found a space to charge your phone and wondering why you hadn’t volunteered with the worship center’s efforts to set up their own storm shelter, considering they had a state-of-the-art generator that had been generously donated by some of the wealthier members of the community. 

“Doesn’t matter who told me. Is it true?” he asked, adjusting his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. His temple throbbed, his signature tell that his anger threatened to burst at the seams, and he was doing a poor job of concealing it.

You turned to look out the window watching the snowy town slip behind you, watched as the space between houses grew, until the landscape turned to vast swaths of farmland. 

“Isaac and I had a disagreement,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to see him.” 

“A disagreement about what?” you father asked, his tone more gentle now that you’d finally started to open up. 

Growing up, whenever you got angry about something, your parents always quoted the Bible passage about being slow to anger, but whenever your father was angry, he called it righteous anger, whatever that meant. It was his get-out-of-jail-free card to use whenever he didn’t want to hold himself accountable. If you were to call him out at that moment, that would have been his defense. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” you deflated, resting your feet on the dashboard. 

Your father exhaled heavily through his nose. “You can’t let personal stuff get in the way of your walk with God or your responsibilities to the church,” he said. “I put you in a leadership position with the worship band this year. I trusted you with it because I thought you could handle the pressure.” 

“Well I can’t, okay?” you blurted, hating how much emotion managed to make its way into your voice. You buried your head in your arms. “I’m not this perfect daughter you want me to be. I’m still just discovering who I am and it’s like you want me to be this cookie-cutter person who never messes up.” 

Your father clicked his tongue, sighing. Of course he was disappointed with your outburst—you were also disappointed with your behavior, but not for the same reasons. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Well that’s what it felt like you meant,” you muttered into your knees and you could feel your throat tightening. You knew you were directing your anger at the situation towards him unfairly. You had many justified reasons to be angry, but at the heart of it all, you just wanted to be back with Noah and your father had ripped you away from the first shreds of freedom and autonomy you’d ever tasted. 

He sighed again, hand coming to rest on your back. It felt slimy, and you wanted to throw it off you. But you knew it would only set your father off again, knew it would only launch another lecture about how unacceptable your attitude was. 

He kept his hand on your back, but the conversation died down and you spent the rest of the drive home in tense, uncomfortable silence. until at last, he pulled into the driveway of your family home and shut the truck off. 

“Look, I know I was harsh,” he began, and the muscles in your shoulders relaxed a few ticks. Maybe the two of you could work through this, and a few weeks at home wouldn’t be the end of the world. You would carry out your responsibilities, suffer through all the church stuff, and then be back in Noah’s arms in less than a month. You could call and text him every day until then. 

“But it’s just because I worr—,” he cut off mid-sentence and you looked up at him to see his eyes narrowed. “What’s on your neck?” 

You brought your hand to your neck, unaware of what he was talking about. “I don’t know,” you said. 

“What the hell is on your neck?” he questioned again, voice full of the same anger from earlier—possibly even more. You flinched, not used to hearing your father use a word like hell in a sentence unless he was talking about the place itself. 

“I don’t know!” you said, flipping the visor in front of you down and peering in the mirror. 

Several dark purple and red marks dotted your neck, dipping down past the collar of your hoodie. There was no mistaking what had left them there. 

Your stomach dropped, heart pounding and flooding your system with adrenaline. For a moment, you froze, not knowing how to move forward, and then your father’s booming voice broke through your trance. 

“Get in the house,” he shouted and you jumped, wrenching open the door and running inside, straight up the stairs and into your room, locking the door behind you. You hid behind the bed, knowing full well it wouldn’t protect you from whatever was coming. 

You heard the loud steps of your father following you, then the loud bangs of his fist on your door. “Open this door!” he shouted. Even with the door muffling his screaming, you curled into yourself, plugging your ears and rocking back and forth in search of reprieve.

“Open this goddamned door or I will rip it off its hinges!” 

You panicked, searching the room for a way out, but you were on the second floor and the only window led to a two-story drop to the concrete driveway. 

Then you heard your mother, stomping up the stairs and shouting back at your father. 

“Bruce! Don’t you dare speak to her like that!”  You’d never heard your mother yell at him before. She has always had his back in every single matter, following his lead. 

“Your daughter’s been fooling around with some hoodlum,” he shouted. “She has hickeys all over her neck!” 

“Oh, well I wonder where she gets it from,” your mother spat, matching his volume 

You unplugged your ears, listening more intently to their shouting match. What did your mother mean by that? 

“Will you keep it down? She’s right there,” he hissed and you moved closer to the door to hear the rest of his conversation, stomach tying itself in knots. “I have a responsibility to protect my daughter’s innocence.” 

“Oh, like you protected the innocence of that volunteer?” spat your mother, still maintaining her volume. “She wasn’t that much older. What about her innocence?” 

You heard some grumbling and muttering, and what sounded like a fist banging against a wall, before your father’s footsteps moved down the hall towards his study. “I’m not discussing this with you here.” 

As the door to his study slammed, your mother muttered some snide remark under her breath before stalking down the stairs.

What. The fuck.

What volunteer? Who was your mother talking about? And why on God’s green Earth wasn’t she upset when your father had told her about the hickeys? There was no way—

Your thoughts stopped in their tracks as  you realized you didn’t have the emotional capacity to begin processing the conversation that had just taken place—let alone all the events of this morning. You needed to check in with Noah before you could even begin to wrap your head around it. 

You got up, walked over to your bed and collapsed into it, searching your pockets for your phone, with no luck. Pounding your fist against your head, you realize you’d left it in the truck. Perhaps, if you waited until the evening, you could sneak out and grab it without your parents noticing?

Though it was barely noon, the exhaustion from the past few days had finally started to catch up to you. Your body ached, both from the workouts you’d done at the gym the other day and from shoveling all day. Rolling over, another sort of ache settled in—this one from the ghost of Noah’s presence in your body. 

You’d lost your virginity. This massive responsibility that had hung over your head for years was finally no longer your burden to bear. Inside, you tingled with the knowledge that Noah had been there. You could almost still feel the stretch of him inside you, could almost taste his tongue on yours, could smell him on you—traces of him littered all over you. 

You cupped yourself as if to trap the memory, curling up and trying to remember every single moment you’d shared with him last night and this morning, and before you knew it, tears started leaking out. 

You didn’t know where they were coming from and felt embarrassed by the severity of your emotions, but didn’t fight them, either. For whatever reason, you knew it was important for you to feel this. 

________

Several hours later, you woke groggy, starving, thirsty, and desperately needing to use the bathroom. 

Listening carefully for any sign of life on the other side you inched the door open and tip-toed down the hall to the bathroom. When you were done, you peered around the corner to your father’s study, finding it empty. As was your parent’s bedroom. 

Creeping down the stairs, you got to the landing, peered out the door, and saw that your father’s truck had gone, which meant your phone went with it. 

Sighing, you rounded the doorway to the kitchen to find your mother sitting at the island in the center, typing something on her laptop. She looked up as soon as you entered and stared at you for several long moments before she spoke. 

“He was right,” she said curtly. “You’ve got marks all over you.” 

“Are you mad?” you asked, hesitantly walking to the cupboard to fetch a glass. You poured yourself some water from the filtered pitcher in the fridge, then got out ingredients to make yourself a sandwich. 

She exhaled slowly, sucking on her tongue as she thought about her response. “I’m surprised,” she began. “You always seemed so committed to your purity.” 

You said nothing, slathering a slice of bread with Miracle Whip. 

“Your father thinks you broke your vow to God,” she continued, voice measured. “I told him that hickeys don’t necessarily mean you lost your virginity.” 

She was prying for more information. She wanted you to deny that you’d done anything more than kiss a little bit, but you weren’t so sure you wanted to keep pretending.

“It’s natural for people your age to be curious,” she went on. “I mean, before we got married, your father and I weren’t saints. We engaged in…things. But we always made sure we were right with God–” 

“What’s going on with you and dad?” you cut in. 

Your mother’s face fell, her eyes dropped to the laptop in front of her, shoulders suddenly tense and lips pursed. For several moments, she didn’t say anything. When she opened her mouth, it looked like it took her effort to force the words past her lips. 

“That’s none of your concern,” she said. She went back to typing, but you weren’t satisfied with her answer. 

“Did he cheat on you? Are you getting a divorce?” you pressed. Normally you’d be gentler with how you approached a topic like this, but it wasn’t fair for them to chastise you if they had their own dirty secrets. 

“That is enough,” she said, tone stern. “Your father and I are in a disagreement, and we are handling it.” 

Handling it. More like sweeping it under the rug, the same way your family handled any major disagreement, always more interested in keeping up appearances so the congregation didn’t get wind of trouble in paradise and question your father’s ability to lead. 

“Have you seen my phone?” you asked. 

Your mother turned back to you, this time peering over her glasses in a look that let you know she thought your question was audacious. 

“I’m surprised you think you still have a phone after the behavior you’ve exhibited,” she said, before turning back to her laptop. 

“What?!” you said in disbelief, slamming the knife back down beside your half-made sandwich. “You’re taking away my phone?!” 

“Not just your phone. Your laptop. Your gaming console. Your TV privileges,” she continued, not bothering to look up from her keyboard. 

“That’s not fair,” you said. 

“You won’t even have time to miss it. Dad’s got plans for you to work alongside him in the church over your break. Says it would do you good, and I agree.” 

“This is trash!” you said, grabbing your pathetic excuse for a sandwich and stalking back off to your room. 

“It’s called consequences,” your mother called after you, but you could barely hear her over the sound of your door slamming. 

_______

Noah stared at the clock in his bedroom, grinding his molars together.

It was just after eight. You’d been gone for almost eight hours.

He crinkled up the aluminum foil wrapper from the burrito he’d ordered, fashioned it into a ball and then threw it up towards the ceiling, catching it on its way back down. 

He couldn’t get your face out of his head, but not the version he wished would play on repeat. Notthe flushed, fucked-out version, lips parted, sighing out in ecstasy—no, that one he had to work to recall. 

The one that haunted the insides of his eyelids was the image of you scared, distraught, on the verge of tears, unable to speak without your voice breaking. He’d never seen you look as small as you did when you were standing before your father, head bowed in shame. 

Noah had texted you as soon as you left, asking if you were okay. He hadn’t heard anything back, which didn’t sit easy with him. Usually, you were very responsive. It was one of the things he liked most about you. Conversations were so easy. You put in just as much effort as he did, sometimes going above and beyond, stunning Noah with just how thoughtful and witty you were with your responses. 

Radio silence was not your M.O. 

Perhaps you’d been busy and hadn’t found an opportunity to text? Perhaps your father had forced you to attend church functions all evening and you hadn’t had a chance to check your phone? 

Antsy, Noah fetched his phone out of his pocket, opening and closing the messaging app several times and huffed, tossing the aluminum foil ball into a trash can and rolling over on his bed. His finger hovered over your name, itching you text you again, but then thought better of it, navigating to his photo album instead. 

He pulled up his most recent picture, and there you were, sprawled out on the blankets, shy smile on your face as you looked up at him with what could only be described as love in your eyes. 

Noah stared for a while, zooming in on various parts of you and chastising himself for not taking more pictures of you when he had the opportunity. He’d already gotten off to the image twice that day, remembering the warm, wet vacuum of your pussy. If he were smarter, he’d have taken a video so he could hear you moaning his name. 

Maybe, if he was lucky, he could get you to send him a video of you later. 

He scratched at the stubble now visible on his chin and exhaled deeply. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to hear your voice, just to know you were okay. 

Noah switched back to his contacts, tapping on your name, and then pressing the call button. 

The phone rang three times before it was answered. Nobody spoke at first. 

“Uh…hello?” said Noah. 

“Who is this?” came a gruff voice on the other end. 

“This is Noah Davis. Who is this?” he answered. 

“Pastor Bruce,” came the voice. Noah had a sneaking suspicion before that it was your father who had answered, but that confirmed it. Taking a deep breath, it was time to rip the band-aid off. 

“Hi Pastor Bruce. I was wondering if I could speak with your daughter for a minute?” Noah asked, already knowing it was a long shot. Pastor Bruce did not seem happy about Noah calling his daughter. 

“No-ah Da-vis…” your father repeated, elongating the syllables as he spoke, as if they were specimens for him to lay out on a table and examine under a microscope. “I recognize that name. You were the one who vandalized our worship center, right? I negotiated with the authorities to have your sentence reduced to community service.” 

Noah’s stomach flipped over itself. His heart pounded in his ears and all his saliva evaporated, leaving his tongue to scrape over the roof of his mouth like sandpaper as he tried to force out a response. 

“Uh…yes, sir. Thank you for that. The community service has been a good experience, your daughter has certainly helped me see things differently.” He was floundering, trying his best to spin a narrative that would somehow paint you in a better light. 

“Don’t play with me, boy,” your father spat, and Noah immediately understood why you walked such a tightrope of moral perfectionism. He, too, would be terrified of this man’s disapproval if he lived under the same roof. “I’ve heard all about you. I know you’re the one corrupting my daughter.” 

“Sir, I—,” Noah began, but he was cut off. 

“Don’t deny it,” said Bruce. “Let me tell you something, boy.” It was clear he meant the last word as an insult, and the vitriol in your father’s voice chilled him to the bone. “You so much as speak to my daughter again, and I’ll make sure you’ll have to answer to more than just God for your sins.” 

The line went dead. 

______

All rights reserved to @doomhands-jr, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist:

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[shuastar]

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ (pt 2) (JWW)

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪ���ʟ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 8.2 k (consistency is key??) warnings: none for now?? hot wonwoo, lowkey obsessed wonwoo, theres like a part where he's like "oh i couldn't control myself" but it's not like a sexual predator sorta way i promise, joshua featuring!! ᴀ/ɴ: i told myself i would post this before the la concert BUT i got too distracted buying a clear fucking bag from target bc i didnt know you had to bring a clear bag to us concerts??? bc ive only gone to korea concerts??? anyways, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3 OH also if you're confused by the (y/n) (wonwoo) parts it's like the perspective thing (the perspectives switch bc i got boredd writing only y/n pov sorry!!)

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ

y/n

“Your grace.” 

A silver fine-toothed comb gently brushed through your morning hair, untangling your curled knots. The winter air chilled the room and the hazy morning sunlight shined through the sheer curtains. 

You hummed in acknowledgement. 

Nai continued with her rhythmic brushing, slowly adding oils and perfumes to the ends of your hair. “I do not understand these rumors as of late, your grace,” Nai huffed, setting the comb down on the vanity desk with a little more force than necessary. 

You let out a breathy laugh, slowly running your fingers through your silken hair. “I do not think rumors exist to be understood, Nai.” 

Nai crosses her arms, the space between her eyebrows creasing. “But your grace! These rumors are absolutely outlandish! You! Infertile! I just cannot even begin to wrap my head-”

At her words, you notice a new cream-colored envelope sitting on the edge of the vanity. “-then don’t, Nai.” You look up at her. Her brown ringlets sit neatly against her shoulders and her wide hazel eyes are full of pure exasperation. It feels good, you think, to have someone care this much. It’s been a while. 

“You don’t have to understand anything for me. Rumors will remain rumors,” you hum, reaching for the envelope. 

Nai huffs in annoyance. You know it isn’t directed at you, but it still makes you smile nonetheless. Seungcheol might have been ruining your Society life, but at least he hired a maid right. Speaking of which, as your eyes glided through the contents of the palace-stamped envelope, it focused on the beginning: 

My darling archduchess y/n, 

I hope the duchy is prospering after my small present for your twenty third birthday. Speaking of, I have scheduled a tea for you in two days with Baron-

Again. Fucking again with the stupid engagement offers. If Seungcheol wasn’t the king, you would have already slapped him twice. He had always been somewhat of a parent figure in your life, especially after your grandmother’s death. But this? This was dangerously toeing the line of overstepping your boundaries. Actually, maybe the boundaries had been overstepped at your fifth engagement that ended with yet another cheating scandal. At this point, Prince Mingyu was right – how did Seungcheol even manage to conjure only cheating scandals for your shame to marinate in? 

“Whose ball are we attending tonight, Nai?” 

Nai tries to speak around the pearl bobby pin in her mouth. “Uck gong, er ace,” she starts, before she shakes her head. The bobby pin slides into your hair. “My apologies, your grace. Duke Hong’s winter season opening ball.” 

You hum, toying with the edges of the envelope. If it wasn’t considered palace property, you would have burned it. God. Seungcheol was really teething at your fraying nerves. There’s only a certain number of engagements a Society woman can go through before she is considered unmarriable. You were way past that point. 

If the king himself was not backing you, you would have already been the Society’s laughing stock. Because what failure of a woman cannot keep a man to herself for more than a couple of measly weeks?

At this point, you might as well just live and die alone. 

Duke Hong’s winter season opening ball. You wouldn’t have agreed to attend if it was hosted by anyone else. Duke Hong happened to be your fellow library attendant during your formative years at the National Academy. Really, it was a pity you could not just conjure up a lie and stay back in the safety of your room. You would, except you had a sinking feeling Joshua would send you letter after annoying letter until you finally decided to let up and attend. 

You don’t think you are fully ready for the full impact of the Society nobles just yet. To make matters worse, Nai had told you that she heard the people were giddy about the return of the Jeon Duchy to the capitol after the death of the previous heads of the house, and the return of the direct line, now the archduke, after his series of triumphant wins on the frontiers of the warring enemy country. The Society, you told yourself, was what you were afraid of. But a tiny (not so secret) part of you was not fully ready to see him again just yet.

The stuffy crowded ballroom seemed even more overpopulated under the yellow chandelier lights and the exponentially building pressure inside your chest. And Joshua’s estate’s not-so-hidden balcony did not give you enough coverage in the darkening night. If Joshua had not proposed for you to stay the night (“You should not be out after dark, y/n. Even if you have the best footmen in the world,” were his words), you would have retired to your own estate an hour ago. Actually, if Joshua had not been so adamant about your attending, you would have never left your estate in the first place.

But you could never say no to his face, especially when he pulled his little pout and sigh of faux disappointment that had followed him even out of the Academy.

There was a not-so-secret side of you that wanted to pull your hair out by the roots. The whispers, the gossips, the mumblings, the laughter that follows you wherever you go, you could do. You could live with it. You could do with it because that was what you had lived with for three years. Three miserable years of back-to-back engagements with all of High Society’s eligible men, hand-picked by the dear, beloved king. And no, of course, Seungcheol was not to carry the entire burden of blame. You blamed every single elder in your family and the royal courts. Every male figure in your life expects you to marry some rich, handsome man. If he knew how to dance, drink, breathe, and hold some semblance of self respect, he was eligible in their eyes. Even if, in the dark cover of night, they leave their homes and sneak onto the back alleyways of carnal desire. 

Each season of Society that passes by you is another couple of months in which your vain, naive, wishful childhood dream of wanting to marry for love!! could not come true. In some ways, it was because you fully believe that love has its time (and your time had passed away three years ago), but also because sometimes, you had learned to give up things you innately wanted for something that would benefit you a little more in the future. Something that would cause you less pain. Something that could slowly become something you love.

You feel the built-up tears fill your eyes, champagne flute resting loosely between your gloved fingers. For a moment, you wish your grandmother was back with you. She would know what to do, what to say, what to choose. You wish she could have been there, three years ago, when you tried desperately to balance the exhausting, choking, mountains of pressure of an archduchess and a fragmented heart, which slowly shattered into unmendable glass pieces. You wish she could have pulled Wonwoo aside then and told him how you had suffered, maybe bring up even a smidge of guilt, worry, regret, something. 

But that’s all wishful thinking, y/n, you chide yourself. Let it go, like you have done for the past three years. 

But he wasn’t here during the three years, you wish you could argue. You wish you could hope for something and follow the tugs of your heart, but there is a shallow part of your mind that tells you no. Because the first time ended in shambles. Made you the laughing stock for two whole seasons. Kick-started your rather permanent fixture in the Society’s rumor mills. And just as you thought you had figured everything out, he comes waltzing back into your life – as part of the same royal council – like he had never left. And that in itself left a gaping, bubbling hole of rage in your heart. 

The thin wooden door and curtain that separates you from the rest of the dancing ballroom flutters with the breeze. Your head pounds along with the bass of the cello inside – not too sure if it was caused by the champagne flute in your gloved hand or the incessant whispers that had followed your footsteps inside. 

“Why did you have to come back,” you mutter bitterly, gazing up at the darkened night sky. A disbelieving laugh and a shake of your head. “Stop thinking about-”

 You cut yourself off when the balcony door suddenly creaks open. You turn with half a mind to tell off whoever was bold enough to interrupt your obvious solitude. However, that train of thought very quickly comes to an end when you look back over your shoulder. The face you see almost makes you want to let out a laugh. 

The very man you were ranting to yourself about stands in the curtained doorway. You hate that you can’t see his eyes behind his glasses in this light. 

You open your mouth, nose scrunching in annoyance, about to say something along the lines of why the fuck are you here or do you find pleasure in giving me pain or can you leave, before the clouds move from the moon and you actually take him in. And not just take him in but take him in. 

Wonwoo is standing there, chest rising and falling like he had just raced to the ball on his horse or had run around the entire Hong Estate trying to find something. Now, in the soft rays of the moonlight and the biting early-winter breeze, you can see his dark eyes behind his glasses – guarded. But as you study his (rather chiseled) face, he’s changed somehow. Your last memories of a twenty-one-year-old Wonwoo do not show the sharp intense prick of his gaze as it holds your own. You don’t remember it holding the same sort of pain and weight – like he was Atlas, holding the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. 

Handsome, you think. But it’s gone before you can put a finger on it to hold it down long enough to fully think about it. You can’t really describe Wonwoo in words. That was something you had decided a long time ago. 

He was handsome in the old-fashioned sense. A straight nose, dark almond eyes, the slightest permanent downturn of his lips. His defined jawline and his glasses that he had grown into. He was handsome in the most eligible bachelor sense. If your mother was still alive, she would have wanted you to be courted by him – no one less and no one more because there was no one more. And perhaps that was why you had been so over-the-top with him before: he was everything your mom would have adored – tall, pale, smart, handsome, built. 

You steel yourself, letting a soft breath escape you before you say, “Your grace,” the title sounds oddly cold now coming from your parted lips, “this is hardly the place for a welcomed noble.” You hate how your voice trembles ever so slightly at the end. Perhaps you had not been as ready for this as you thought you were.  

Your voice seems to snap Wonwoo back to life. His lips twitch slightly but his expression remains frustratingly unreadable. “Just,” he starts, before his eyes glance at the floor, “I needed a moment,” he finally replies. And this time, his gaze is locked on yours. 

Your throat tightens at his reply. 

If you were nineteen-

No. You were not nineteen or twenty anymore. He had left. 

Like everyone else did.

“So did I.” You take a small step backwards before whispering, “I always do.” 

You think Wonwoo is going to continue the conversation, however strained, but he lets a silence hang in the air. It grows so thick you feel like it steals some of your oxygen away. You wonder if Wonwoo is also thinking about the past – about three years ago, about when you had nothing to worry about but being yourselves and completing school, when you had thought you would not inherit such a pressuring role until you were happily married for love. Like idiots. But even if he isn’t thinking the same thing as you, the silence is almost palpable in the air. Like it is giving room, a lost opportunity back. 

Wonwoo’s eyes linger on you – not just your face but you – like he’s trying to make sense of the very thing you had tried your best to bury deep inside of you. Like he wanted you to either throw it all back up or he wanted to personally haul it to the surface. And you hated how he could make you feel naked, vulnerable, weak and like a naive, stupid child with just one look. 

Finally, he whispers softly, “It’s been a long time, y/n.” 

His voice is deep and not at all how you remembered it from three years ago. It seems different from his soft murmurs you had barely heard during his royal reentry ball. Your pulse jumps traitorously. 

“Not long enough, it seems.” The words are supposed to come out icy, but it doesn’t come out as hard as you had hoped. Instead, your voice has a rather meek tone to it, as if even your vocal chords knew something you refused to admit. 

Wonwoo doesn’t answer. The only indicator that he heard you at all is the brief upward twitch of his eyebrows. 

You’re too proud, you know, to look away first. And you know what that will do. You can already feel the old memories – the ones you had (wished) long buried in the deepest parts of your fragmented heart – creep up: the warmth of the sun on your skin exposed on your sundress as you walked the grassy walkways of the park; the quiet laughs during an royal-sponsored opera; the knowing glances exchanged during another one of Mingyu’s complaints about a possible partner. 

A burst of sudden loud laughter and chatter from below the balcony makes you whip around in a speed your grandmother would have called “excruciatingly unladylike,” and catch the tip of your heel in the grooves of the marble flooring. You have one second to register Wonwoo’s eyes widening and another second that is wasted on trying to save your champagne flute, before your palms are flat against Wonwoo’s defined chest. Your shattered champagne flute glints against the thin moonlight, forgotten at the sudden intrusion of your privacy – a sudden casualty of his presence. 

His hands are barely there on your waist – the only things that are preventing you from falling off the rather low balcony railing are his arms, wrapped around your frame. His face is taut, as if he was actually worried about you falling off, and your corset feels excruciatingly tight around your straining ribs. 

His stare is heavy and it feels like that one time again. Like when he whisked you away for your first dance as a debutante and accidentally dipped you in the middle of your opening waltz and you stayed there until the eye contact became unbearably awkward. He is doing the same thing – mouth just barely open, eyes unblinking and hands fleeting on your waist. 

You can feel his entire chest under the thin fabric of his white button down. You go to push him away but something makes you hesitate. 

You look up at him, breath hitching automatically at the closeness between you two. 

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, fingers digging in just a little bit, “this is…” you trail off, too breathless and gobsmacked at this entire situation to continue. You just hope he is smart enough to fill in the rather obvious blanks. 

You try to shake off the small detail that your eyes keep wandering back to Wonwoo’s arms, straining against his tailored suit. Small military stars adorn his collar, and you briefly wonder if you can blame his new aura of attractive ruggedness on the war and not your own deprived state of imagination. 

You can feel Wonwoo’s grip on your waist tighten, a small crease appearing between his brow. His voice is a low murmur amongst the laughing crowd behind the curtain. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. His breath fans over your lips. His voice is quiet and gentle – too gentle, too familiar. 

You nod. You physically can’t bring yourself to pull away. You know, you know, what this would look like if someone just simply opens the balcony door. But in your proximity, Wonwoo’s cologne of some sort of earthy, gilded scent fills your senses and overwhelms your thoughts.

“Yes,” you manage, although it’s barely audible. “Your grace,” you add, hoping it would force distance, force out proximity. You swallow down the lump in your throat. Your lace-covered fingers pull at your gloves. 

The title stings the tip of your tongue as it leaves. 

The corners of his lips pull down at the utterance of the formal title leaving your lips. His forehead creases as if the formality of your words had disrupted some sort of intercontinental balance in him. “I apologize if I intruded and startled you,” he breathes, almost too quietly. Then, softer, as if he could not help himself, “y/n.” 

Your name flows off of his tongue like a familiar melody – as if he had never gone away. You want to argue that he had no right to say your name – let it roll off his tongue so gently, as if he had caressed every syllable of your name. You want to yell at him to use your title. But you don’t.

Your fingers tighten on the lapels of his coat.

Under his heavy stare, you can’t help but feel seventeen again: waltzing gracefully up and down the gilded ballroom floors of every season’s opening ball; laughing under the Jeon Duchy’s library’s dim chandelier candle-light; walking down the Capitol’s Main Road, disguised as the common people, during the Mid Autumn Festivals. It’s like everything you had ever experienced with the man standing in front of you crashes into your pressured body like a tidal tsunami wave. And it just keeps on coming. Wave after wave of endless memories that you thought you had wrapped and hidden in the deepest parts of your brain, being uprooted from their perfectly comfortable spot and forced back into the main chamber of your heart. 

To make matters worse, Wonwoo just stares. His expression is silent, unreadable. Not a single word leaves his mouth. Nor a noise. He just stares, like he knows what he’s doing. Like he knows exactly what’s going on inside your head. 

It’s as if the entire room – the whole world – comes to a timeless standstill. You can faintly hear the orchestra playing a classical waltz – your favorite – in the ballroom and the taps of heels as the ladies dance the night away. 

It’s as if Wonwoo’s gaze pierces you to your soul. As if he knew exactly how hard your heart was pounding against your rib cage. As if he could hear the stifled pants and gasps of breath you were trying to hide. His face moves ever so slightly closer to yours. Strands of black hair tickle your forehead. 

His glasses slide down slowly from the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice thick with an emotion you can’t place. Grief? Regret? 

You look up at him at his sudden apology. “For what, your grace?” You stubbornly keep the title. As if it could push you two apart. As if it could mask the thundering pounding of your poor heart. 

For a second, Wonwoo looks almost pained. But it washes over back to his vague expressionless face again. You briefly wonder when his youthful tugs of emotion had disappeared. 

“Everything,” he murmurs, and you feel his hand slowly make its way up – first your waist, shoulders, fingertips brushing against your neck – until his gloved hand cups your jaw, thumb resting lightly against your cheekbone. 

Your eyes widen at his touches. “Won-”

“-y/n.” Wonwoo holds you like you are the only thing keeping him grounded – keeping him from flying away into the dark night sky. You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, opening his mouth again, and this time, his eyes seem much deeper. A smile – a genuine one, unlike the one from his reentry ball – curves along his lips, dimples forming at the tips. “I missed you.” 

Your entire body stiffens at his three words, and you can feel tears against your waterline. Your mouth falls open in a small ‘o’ and your hands clench tighter against his coat lapel. Your nails dig into the thick fabric. 

Not fair.

Wonwoo looks at you like you just hung up the stars and moon in the twilight expanse. 

“Wonwoo,” you mutter, looking away from his eyes. You’re afraid that if you keep eye contact, he’ll find out what you truly feel – what your walls are hiding. 

“Y/n,” he replies, before his hand gently turns your head. He sounds so confident – as if he could protect you from everything – Society, marriage, whispers, gossip. His touch is so soft, so warm, so familiar that you let yourself be turned. You let his fingertips linger on your jaw, your cheek, thumbing your lips. You let his hair droop down to your forehead. You let his eyes trail down to the necklace that rests on the space between your collarbones and trail lower and lower. You let him do everything for a second. 

And your heart stops. 

Because in the next second, his head dips. His hand on your waist tightens its grip. His thumb caresses your cheek. And his lips are on yours. 

His lips are on yours. 

Eyes closed, Wonwoo presses his lips against yours like they never left. Like his lips alone could mend the gaping hole in your heart. 

And it’s almost as if you have no control of your body because you find yourself melting into his embrace, eyes fluttering shut and hands pulling him a little closer than necessary. 

Soft, is your first thought. 

Wonwoo’s hand suddenly wraps around the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his lips in a deeper embrace. He breaks away for the briefest of moments, eyes dark and breath coming out in small pants like yours. You feel like your lungs are on fire. You find your hands buried in his messy black locks. 

“Fuck,” Wonwoo breathes, and you swear he looks a little crazed. Like he had been starved off of something he desperately needed for the longest time. “I missed you so much,” he confesses. 

His words trickle down your throat like agave honey – like sweet distilled liquor. It’s everything you had asked for. 

Except he’s late. Maybe too late? 

But you don’t really have the time to delve into that train of thought before Wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, stealing your words and breath from the confines of your mouth. His tongue swipes testingly against your lips and out of habit, they open the slightest bit. 

Wonwoo’s grip against your neck, your waist, is tight, like he’s afraid you’ll fall out of his arms. Like he’s so afraid of you sinking into the dark. 

And then it’s as if your entire being is suddenly wide awake – out of this weird, hazy, wrong drunken stupor. 

Because at that moment, the balcony door that had once shielded you is thrown open and loud, half-drunken conversations flood both your ears. 

You don’t even have the time to step away from Wonwoo before a scandalized gasp allows itself to pierce and fill the silenced air. 

Lady Lim stands in the doorway, her fan dangling from her hand and another holding a champagne flute. 

Your eyes snap open first. 

Out of pure fight-or-flight, you shove Wonwoo off of you, breaking the kiss immediately. Wonwoo’s eyes are wide in shock, like he did not even expect himself to kiss you. Both of your chests heave (more yours than his), and you can feel your body tremble as adrenaline runs through you. 

“Oh my!” Lady Lim’s shocked voice pierces through the night. “Oh dear, please forgive me,” she stumbles through her words, fan snapping open. You hear the quick snap of another fan unfurling and the hurried click-clack of heeled shoes running the other way. She fans herself with a dramatic flare, though her eyes never leave the scandalous little tableau that she had walked herself into. 

It’s like all blood circulation is cut off from your limbs and any blood circulating in your head rushes to your thudding heart when you finally realize just how close, how unfitting, you and Wonwoo seem. Literally, you can already hear whispers form. And you can already picture it. It’s clear as a spring morning in your head. This scandal will ripple through every single fucking household by tomorrow morning. And if not tomorrow morning, then by afternoon tea. 

“Oh I am terribly sorry,” she starts, and without even a single glance towards her, you know she knows it is you. “So very sorry,” she repeats, though it is obvious her apology is directed more towards the laughable sight of you than the indecent situation itself and the mischievous glint in her eyes tell another story. 

You can physically feel your reputation, your dignity, your name that you had worked up from absolutely nothing shatter on the floor. You can feel your stomach twisting in on itself and every little thing you ate tonight makes its slow way back up your esophagus. Your honor is at stake. And although you had said something about not marrying (ever) and just living your life in your countryside ducal house, at the end of the day, you were nothing without Society. As a woman you were absolutely nothing without Society. But Wonwoo’s grasp of you doesn't seem to falter and your inhales quicken into an almost-desperate gasp of breaths when you start to see a crowd form and whisper.

You blame it on your imagination when you think you feel Wonwoo shift slightly to completely shield you from view. His body is still too close. It’s not what you think it is, you want to scream, but you know that will only worsen the situation. Your brain feels like a ticking bomb and you briefly wonder if Joshua will save you from this situation or if you will need to figure it out yourself. Now, your breaths are clearly audible – almost gasps of oxygen as you try desperately to not cry, scream, and throw up. 

Suddenly, you feel Wonwoo slowly move his hands up towards your shoulder, gently patting it, as if to calm you. It does absolutely jack shit to calm you. You shove his hand off of your skin.

His calm voice cuts through the chatter: “This is not what it appears to be.” 

But those words and his hands only serve to quicken your anxiety-induced breath.

Wonwoo’s been out of Society, not you. You don’t even have the time to think about your shit-show of a reputation, especially now that the entire three quarters of High Society has caught you so precariously positioned. So, you shove Wonwoo off of you with all your strength. It’s not much, but he stumbles backwards, leaving you almost shaking on the small balcony, under the wide-eyed stares and the gossiping lips beneath the fans of the ballroom. If anyone was drunk, they weren’t now. How could they ever miss another one of Duchess Y/n Park’s scandals?

Your mouth went dry. If this was anywhere but your current place, you could have scoffed and then broken down into tears. At least the high heavens are serious about not letting you find a workable marriage. 

Lady Lim slowly disperses back into the crowd, only the curtain closing behind her giddy form, no doubt to tell anyone who did not know the entire story. 

The moment the curtain closes, it’s like your soul returns to your body. You collapse into your skirts, back against the iron railing. Your hands tremble until you dig your nails into your palms. 

“This is the worst fucking thing that could have happen,” you whisper, a horrified look evident in your eyes. You dare to look up at Wonwoo and you feel a tear slip out. “Why would you do that?” Your voice is hoarse, barely audible. The only thing that circles your mind is reputation, reputation, reputation, on and on and on. You try to ignore the way you pulled him close just mere seconds ago. The way you breathily moaned into his lips as well. 

That seems to work on Wonwoo because his expression immediately softens and his eyes fill with what you haphazardly tack as genuine remorse. He reaches out to you, but then hesitates when you flinch ever so slightly. His hands fall to his sides. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but his fingers gently touch his lips like he can’t believe they were just on yours. “I’ll set it right,” he promises. And maybe it's the steadiness in his voice, but for some reason, a small, naive part believes him for a fleeting moment. 

Until the curtain was strewn open again. 

This time, Duke Hong filled the doorway. 

And it isn’t even a question to anyone who he cares for more because without even a second look at Wonwoo, he runs to your side. 

“y/n.” You allow his warm touch around your shoulders as he hauls you up. He gives you one quick look over and it’s like he knows how the entire situation ran down.

At least, you think bitterly, if I finally get ousted from Society, Joshua will still entertain me. 

“Wait-” Wonwoo starts, his hand going out again, only to be stopped by a withering glare on Joshua’s part. 

His usually warm doe eyes are dreadfully, terrifyingly sharp as they drill into Wonwoo’s. “I think you have done quite enough, your grace,” he forces through clenched teeth. 

Then:

“You’re okay,” he whispers, leading you through the parting of people. A thick fabric is tossed over your shoulders, the hood coming up over your face. It was as if stepping a foot into your space could contaminate them with the Disease of the Scandals. You barely register him gesturing off to the side and saying something before he guides you again, a gentle pat here-and-there on your bare shoulder.

“You’re such a liar,” you mumble, lace gloves going up to dab at your watery eyes.

When did I even start crying?

It does nothing to quell your situation. Instead, your tears run down your cheeks. “Don’t lie to me, Shua.” 

Joshua is quiet as he leads you down a hall and into his personal parlor. When you step into the room, the door shuts. He says nothing as he sits you down on a stuffed recliner and hands you a glass of tea. 

He is quiet until you swallow down your first sip and your tears have mostly stopped. 

He clears his throat as he stands above you, thick arms crossed and his hair falling into his eyes. “What the fuck was that?” His hand rakes through his hair and his sudden emphasis on the curse word makes you jump in your seat. His concerned doe eyes turn to you and he marches over, laying a hand on your shoulder. “Did he touch you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing together worryingly. “Did he – God forbid – force you into that situation?” His grip on your shoulder tightens as you don’t answer. 

Your cheeks heat up. “No!” you splutter, setting the teacup down. “Oh my god, no! No, no, no, no!” You chant, slapping Joshua’s arm in retaliation. “Why would you– No!” Your fingers went to your temples and your eyes closed. 

“Then what? Did he pull you in and kiss you?” Joshua demands.

You hesitate. “Well…” you trail off, looking down at your skirts. It gives Joshua all the confirmation he needs.

His eyes bug out of their sockets. “He kissed you? Out of absolutely fucking nowhere?” Joshua’s voice raises an entire pitch, ringing through the foyer. 

You wince. “God, can we not talk about what just happened?” You beg, desperation seeping into your voice. “Actually,” you state, pushing Joshua’s hand off your shoulder and standing up, “I’m leaving. No way,” a laugh of pure disbelief escapes you, “absolutely no way I’m staying here.” You turn when Joshua’s voice rings out. 

“Y/n, wait. Are you okay, though?” 

“What?”

Joshua closes the distance between you two, bringing you into a hug. It is so sudden it takes you off guard and your first reaction is to pull away – leave the situation. Like you try to do every time. But Joshua keeps you there, stroking your hair. And it’s like the entire situation feels so much more real. You feel yourself shaking and it doesn’t register to you that you are crying again until Joshua’s murmurs fill your ears. 

“You’re okay. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” Joshua’s whispers, however fake they will be, offer a slant of confidence in your ruined Society life at least for one season. But even his words tremble at the end and you know he’s lying to calm your soul for this fleeting moment. 

“I’m ruined, Shua,” you sob, and your hands grab his coat, tears staining his beige silk shirt. You can’t even begin to think of what would happen tomorrow, the day after, a week after, at the next ball, even. You refuse to admit how much the consequences of tonight scare you. 

Joshua hums into your hair, swaying the two of you slowly. His pats encourage more caged words to tumble out of your mouth as your sobs die down.

A stuttered breath. “I don’t know why this keeps happening to me,” you murmur, your throat hurts from your gasps of breath as you try to maintain some sort of dignity in front of the older man. “I don’t know why- I just keep becoming the, the, the rumor mill of High Society. I don’t know why- – why can’t I just keep to myself?” Your voice cracks at the end as tears fall down your cheeks again, hot and wet against your porcelain blushed cheeks. 

Joshua’s hold tightens at your ending words and he mumbles, “y/n, y/n, this – any of this – was never your fault. Wonwoo should have been more careful. He of all people knows how Society works,” he comforts, pulling away slightly. A sad smile is on his lips when he sees your tear-stricken face, black smudging your waterline. He takes a handkerchief out and dabs at your undereyes gently, wiping the running makeup. 

You sniff, looking down at your feet. “Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper. When you look back up, Joshua’s eyes are wide as they take in your watery eyes again. “Don’t look at me with pity. I don’t deserve it.” Without wanting to, your lips stretch into a bitter smile. It’s always been like this. Ever since he left, people had always looked at you with a fleeting sense of pity. A sense of patronizing pity – oh, you poor, poor, naive little girl, it seemed to whisper. You should’ve known better. 

Joshua shook his head. “You know I don’t pity you, y/n.” His words are firm, like he has always been. You lean back into his comforting embrace, arms pulled close to your chest, letting his familiar warmth encase you for a moment. Briefly, you wonder if this was what it would have felt like growing up with an older brother. 

“y/n, if you don’t mind me asking,” Joshua trails off, swaying gently. His fingers comb through your hair. 

You hum, body-wracking tears dying down. 

He clears his throat and you know what he is about to ask before he even opens his mouth. “Are you truly over him?” a pause. Joshua continues, “Of course, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. Or that it’s wrong in any sense. Actually, I think Seungcheol would much rather you-” he cuts himself off like he just said something he wasn’t supposed to say. He coughs to fill the silence. “It’s just, maybe it’s not so simple, you know? Of course, I was never very close to the Archduke, even during our shared Academy time, but I’ve seen him more than you have, definitely, over his absence in Society. I don’t know, of course, fully, his true feelings, but I feel as though he’s always held a conflicted heart towards you.” 

You almost scoff at his words. “Conflicted?” You repeat. If anything, you were the one who was conflicted, not him. 

Joshua hesitates, as if he’s choosing the right word to continue his explanation. As if he knows with just one word, all the walls you have built over Wonwoo’s absence will come tumbling down, brick by brick. 

“Perhaps not conflicted, per se,” he hums, pulling away so he can look you in the eyes. “But maybe more so regretful? Sorrowful, I think, may be the right word to describe it.” He lets his words hang in the foyer air. 

Sorrowful, you think. It’s almost laughable how comparable that word is to how you felt – wrathful, destitute, longing for something you knew was never going to come true. 

You catch yourself before your thoughts go further down, shaking your head as if it would get rid of everything. “Whatever he feels, we are over. We are a scandal waiting to happen – even tonight! Look at us! Look at me! Whenever I’m around him, Shua, I just completely lose it! Fuck,” you sigh, and you sink down into your skirts. Your brain hurts from how much your two sides are arguing. One part of you wants desperately to tell Joshua how you feel. How, since Wonwoo’s return, every night as you laid in bed, you could only replay the image of him kissing your knuckles. How, since his greeting words, your fluttering heart started to stutter when the morning mail came in, as if waiting for a letter. Another part of you want to keep it all a secret – pretend it never existed. If you pretend hard enough, maybe it will slowly become the truth. That part wants you to stay in this cycle, and maybe one day, Seungcheol would finally find someone good enough that you could ignore all of their nightly walks for. 

Joshua looks at you. And this time, both of you know it’s with pity – not for you but for your conflicted state. “Be honest with yourself, y/n. At least for matters concerning love,” he advises, bringing your hands up to his lips. A quick kiss is placed onto your knuckles before he steps away, towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” you ask. 

Joshua gives you a tired smile and a knowing look. Then you register the faint hums of the orchestra from outside. “Ducal duties, I guess. I have a ball to run,” he laughs, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Stay here for however long you need to. I’ll have the kitchen staff send something up for you.” He hesitates before adding, “I’ll try to clean up this situation the best I can.” 

You must be getting closer to your period because those simple words almost have you close to tears again. You give him a watery smile. “Thank you, Joshua.” 

Joshua just grins, stepping out. “Anything for my junior.” And the door clicks shut behind him. 

As soon as the door closes, you collapse onto the nearest couch. You swallow, head slamming into the nearest cushion. 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it and maybe it’ll just die over. 

You laugh to yourself. 

When has it ever “just” died over. 

Wonwoo 

Wonwoo swears he didn’t even know y/n was on the balcony. He was just overwhelmed – overwhelmed by the sudden mass of people crowding him when he didn’t expect it. It made his heart thud in his chest and made him forget every noble etiquette he learned in his formative years. 

Wonwoo swears his first intention was to kiss you. But when he had you so close and you looked up at him with such honeyed eyes, everything he learned, he forgot. It was as if his years on the battlefield rid him of his confidence with you. It was as if he was back when he was twenty one, stealing a first (and last) hesitant kiss from you in the royal orchards. 

Wonwoo swears he didn’t mean for this entire thing to happen. He’s not praying for your societal downfall, of course not! He didn’t waltz himself into the stupid winter season opening ball just to kiss you and then have one of the biggest blabbermouths of Society walk in on you two. Hell, he didn’t even want to be at the stupid fucking ball to begin with. But Seungcheol said something about his duty as an archduke to show up to opening season balls or something and he found himself in a carriage, being dropped off in front of the Hong Estate. 

After Joshua had taken you away, it was like the world started spinning again. And he found himself trying to escape a crowd of people until Joshua had returned and concluded the ball. 

Which is how he finds himself in Joshua’s study, staring at Joshua’s back as he watches the last of his guests leave through the large study windows. 

The room is hushed, and a thick tension overlays the entire atmosphere of the room. It’s dimly lit and Wonwoo notices the sheer number of bookshelves and portraits of the previous dukes of the Hong line that decorate the walls. Joshua’s study is the epitome of tradition, of duty, of something he never saw himself to be. Joshua himself stands at the windowsill, arms crossed, and his usually calm demeanor obviously frayed at the end. 

It makes Wonwoo’s current situation that much more terrifying. 

Joshua breaks the silence first, his voice low but unmistakably sharp. 

“What the fuck was that, Wonwoo?” 

There is no preamble, no pleasantries. It was very unlike Joshua to get straight to the point.

The words are distinctly sharp but they very obviously carry a tone of accusation and an undercurrent of disbelief. Like he could not believe Wonwoo was here to begin with. 

Joshua turns slowly, brows furrowed and eyes narrowing. “You’ve been gone for years and this is the first thing you do?” A laugh of disbelief cuts through the air. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?” 

Wonwoo’s jaw locks at his accusing words. His voice is tight with irritation. Joshua’s (in)advertent accusation pricks some shallow part of his conscience. “Maintain your-” 

“-Maintain my what? My position?” Joshua interrupts like he just heard the most outrageous thing from the night. He leans against a bookshelf, a shaking exhale leaving his body. “Do you even know what you just dragged the poor girl into?” 

“What exactly do you think I did?” Wonwoo blanches, straightening. He didn’t hold her against her will or force her into any situation. He was just-

Joshua steps a step closer and under this light, Wonwoo can very clearly see the barely-controlled anger in Joshua’s eyes. “You know what I mean. What you did tonight,” he gestures vaguely off to the side, “there is no excuse for that.” His arms cross, tone dropping to something quieter and much more piercing. “And you pull this shit after everything she’s been through?” he scoffs, “Do you know what this scandal will do to her? What she had to fucking live with for the three years you were conveniently gone from her life?” Every curse word that leaves Joshua’s unlikely mouth stings. Especially because during the entirety of Wonwoo’s fifteen years of knowing Joshua, he’s never heard a single curse word leave the man’s mouth until now. 

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in confusion. “What-” Joshua’s words echo in his head. “What do you mean by that?” 

Joshua’s frustration only deepens at his words. “The whispers that followed y/n?” He lets out a small, bitter laugh when Wonwoo stares at him like he just uttered something in a completely different language. “Of course,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Of course you didn’t know. You weren’t even here,” he strains. “You have no idea – not even an inkling – of what she had to go through. The rumors, the scandals, the fucking engagements that all ended in-” Joshua cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes. 

Wonwoo blinks, a sense of dread overcoming his senses. ‘Engagements? What- what are you-” 

Joshua perfectly ignores him. “You think she can just simply brush off whatever you just did? That Society will let her brush it off?” 

Wonwoo’s gaze wavers as something tightens in his chest. It’s like every one of Joshua’s words hit something in him. He steps backwards slightly. His hands shake in fists next to him. “I never meant for this entire thing to happen,” he mutters. But he can’t help the guilt that begins to creep into his voice. “I never intended for any of this, Joshua.” 

At his shaking words, Joshua’s posture lets up the slightest bit. Instead of pure anger, there is now a quiet concern that mixes itself in.

“You think she’s been waiting for you this entire time, Wonwoo?” he asks. “No, your grace.” The title hits Wonwoo hard. “She’s been through enough, man. Let her live.” He takes a slow step towards Wonwoo, eyes softer now. “Do you know how each of her engagements ended, Wonwoo?” Joshua’s jaw clenches. “With each and every man going off with some other whore in the back alleys. Every. Single. One.” 

The weight of Joshua’s words hit him like a horse plowing through the fields. “I-” he doesn’t even know what to say. Each and every man going off with some other whore. The phrase repeats itself over and over and over inside his head. He doesn’t even know what the emotions that wrack his body are. Anger? Guilt? Some sort of combination? 

“She’s always been frightfully alone – against Society, the judgment, the pain of the engagements. The entire Society just sees her as a scandal waiting to happen.” Joshua lets out a breath, swallowing. 

Wonwoo is frozen in his place, every word that leaves Joshua’s mouth cutting a deeper wound into his heart. “I never wanted that for her,” he whispers. “I never wanted her to feel alone. I never-”

“-But you did, Wonwoo.” Joshua’s voice cracks and his eyes glisten with pity. “Wonwoo, when you left, you absolutely broke her.” 

At his words, Wonwoo stumbles back like it is a physical blow. 

“She cried almost every other night. She wouldn’t eat at her own estate so Seungcheol ordered her to stay at the palace. Mingyu,” he lets out a frustrated laugh, “Mingyu, he had to carry her up to a guest room every night because she would fall asleep in the library.” Joshua’s gaze is piercing. “But I guess you were too busy doing whatever.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes are wide, his breath still in his throat. He feels his stomach twist and his hands clench into fists. “I didn’t know,” he repeats, almost as if it's a mantra that keeps him afloat. As if he was trying to convince himself. He feels something break inside of him – a dam, a wall, something. Because for the first time since his return, he feels the full weight of the distance between him and y/n. No. Maybe it was always there to begin with and he had refused to face it. He can finally feel the missed years, the cut conversations, the things she had to endure without him. The things she had to endure because of him. It’s like everything is crashing down around him in pieces of broken glass, cutting small pieces of his skin. It’s like all of his mistakes, his failures, his greed that made him think only of himself, comes crashing down in full-force. 

“How do I-” Wonwoo mumbles. There is a strange pressure behind his eyes. “How do I fix this?” When he looks back up at Joshua, he’s at a loss for words. “I never meant to hurt her.” 

Joshua shakes his head slowly, voice firm in this. “But you did. You can’t change that now, three years later. Just fix it. She’s suffered long enough.” Joshua steps back, turning to the window. “Show her that you’re not leaving again. That she can trust you again.” 

“And if it doesn’t work?” Wonwoo’s voice sounds broken, even to his own ears. 

Joshua pauses. He looks over his shoulder. “Then it doesn’t. But if you feel anything towards her, you’ll try.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes close and his hands find purchase on Joshua’s desk. Stupid, he thinks, swallowing back lumps in his throat. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Should’ve stayed away. 

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @mj-szaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

[hairyjocktf]

The Bear Brew

Jake was the star player of his university’s hockey team, and with two successful championships under his belt he was captain for this next season. He’d practically been raised for this position. His parents had put him in hockey lessons as soon as he could stand up, and every moment through his childhood and teenage years had been dedicated to practice. He was the star player at his high school and given a scholarship to play on the university team. He’d been told not to let all that go to his head but he knew he was the best player on the team. Every match there would be throngs of fans in the stands chanting his name after every goal, wearing shirts with his face on them, and begging for pics with him after. His life couldn’t get any better.

His teammates, however, were over it. They’d made him captain just to shut him up after he’d been talking their ears off for the past three years. It helped that issue but only inflated his ego even more. Jake had somehow gotten even more obnoxious this season, becoming combative during practice and not taking any criticism about his play. The guys were sick of it, and while Jake was off stroking his ego by chatting with his fans, they hatched up a plan to get back at him. They’d found this beer called ‘Bear Brew’ that promised to put some pounds on anyone that drank a can. They knew Jake would never turn down grabbing a drink to celebrate a victory, thinking himself the one responsible. They weren’t sure exactly how effective it’d be or how long it’d take but they just hoped it would take Jake down a peg.

Two days later, after another decisive victory, it was time. Another player named Eric interrupted Jake’s victory lap.

“Hey bro, wanna grab a beer with us and celebrate?” He asked.

“Finally ready to celebrate my accomplishments, huh?” Jake retorted, “Sure dude, I’m down for a couple rounds, you’re buying though.”

“Deal,” Eric said through gritted teeth. He knew it would be worth it to see this through. They both returned to the rest of the team.

“I heard you chumps are buying me a beer tonight,” Jake laughed as the others wore forced grins. “Let’s hit the bar bros, I’m thirsty.”

On their way to the nearest sports bar, one of the players slipped Eric the Bear Brew so he could give it to Jake. He hoped Jake wouldn’y pay too much attention to the label or read the fine print, but Jake already wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so it’d probably be fine. They entered a local sports bar that had a decent crowd.

“Alright Eric, first rounds on you bro!” Jake announced as he slumped back into a booth along the wall. Eric glared as he made his way to the counter, the rest of the players trying to seem normal and hide their excitement. He brought back a whole armful of cans, passing out beers to the team, making sure to hand Jake the Bear Brew. “Alright boys!” Jake announced to the group, “To victory and my next championship title, you better back me up!” He took a huge sip of the beer. “Damn this shit tastes kinda weird, the fuck did you get me Eric?” He laughed before taking another sip.

Eric chuckled nervously, “Just thought I’d get you somethin’ premium bro.”

“Damn straight you did, I like that kinda talk,” Jake responded, luckily not putting any more thought into the matter. He kept on sipping at the beer, making obnoxious jokes and trying to hit on the waitresses walking around. He felt more buzzed than usual from one beer, and noticed an odd feeling in his stomach. He ignored that for the moment, yelling at the team, “Another round bros! Gotta treat me right tonight.”

Luckily, the team had planned for this and brought extra beers for Jake in case he asked for more. Another player went up and ordered beers for the team, brought them back and handed Jake the Bear Brew again. Jake started chugging the second beer, and he was really starting to feel odd. He was almost feeling drunk from just two beers, and his stomach was queasy in a way he’d never felt before. He took a couple minutes to just lay back against the seat and close his eyes to give it time to settle. But settle it did not, and the feeling eventually became uncomfortable to the point he couldn’t ignore it. He put his hands on his stomach to try and comfort it, but immediately he felt something very, very wrong.

Jake opened his eyes and looked down at his stomach. He nearly gagged at what he saw. Instead of his chiseled abs he now had a pudgy stomach, and it only seemed to be getting bigger. His defined muscles were disappearing behind a thick layer of chub. He was speechless, watching his defined pecs inflating with fat. It looked like he’d been binging beers for years! His perfect workout routine was vanishing before his eyes as his entire body gained 5, 10, 20 pounds. A round belly now stretched his shirt to its limit, with sagging tits to match. It looked as if he’d been dirty bulking for years on end, and Jake was mortified. He glanced around at his teammates hoping no one had noticed his inflating body, feeling his face as a double chin began to form under his formerly tight jawline. He was panicking, trying to keep cool and maintain his cocky bravado while hiding his growing gut.

He could feel every part of his body growing plump and soft, threatening to burst out of his tight clothing. His feet were pushing against his shoes, and even his hands were growing larger. Jake felt sick to his stomach, and without attracting attention he got up and made his way to the dingy restroom in the back of the bar. Out of breath, he put his hands on the counter and stared at his bloated reflection in the mirror. He could barely recognize himself, having put on years worth of weight in the last few minutes. As he watched himself, he noticed some dark spots appearing on his face. Upon leaning towards the mirror, he realized with horror that thick, brown hairs were starting to poke out of his face. They popped up around the sagging edge of his jaw, and began spreading across his puffy cheeks. His upper lip was quickly buried beneath a thick, unkempt mustache as the hairs took over. They crawled down his fat-laden neck as well, reaching down towards his collarbone. His mouth dropped open as his face was in an instant coated in thick wiry hairs. There was no way he could go back out to his team now, what would they say? He barely looked like his old self anymore. 

Jake reached up to feel his newly grown beard, the coarse hairs scratching against his fingers. He tried to come up with a plan, but the several beers had dulled his mind down. Those thoughts were cut short as a sudden itch arose on his chest. Jake started to scratch at it, clawing at his chest before he felt something that filled him with horror. He felt stubble. He tore off his shirt and looked down to see more hairs pushing out of his soft chest, starting between his former pecs and blossoming outward. They grew dense and thick, giving his chest a respectable coating as it stretched out, encircling his nipples. The hairs climbed up his collarbone, connecting with the beard hairs that had claimed his neck already. A line of hairs shot down from his chest to his navel, spreading a new field of hairs on his stomach. His torso itched up a storm as a thick pelt was growing in, but Jake felt a mixture of horror and pleasure as the sensation felt unnaturally good. He groaned watching the hairs grow longer on his chest, curling and tangling with the others.

As he reached up to feel the growing hairs, Jake saw a flash of dark under his arm, somewhere he had kept shaved before. He lifted his arm up and saw thick brown hairs worming their way out from the previously smooth skin. At first it was just a few but as he watched the tuft grew thicker and bushier as the hairs multiplied. The hairs even spread out to connect with the rug on his chest, completely visible even with his arms at his sides. A few seconds later the smell hit him. Those hairy pits reeked! It was eye watering, and he could see the sweat dripping down the wiry hairs as they kept growing longer. The hairs began crawling outside of his pits, wrapping around his shoulders to blanket them in the same thick fur. He looked like he was wearing a hairy shirt, barely able to see the skin under the growing hairs. His new fur continued to spread, as Jake felt the itching engulf his back. He turned in the mirror to glimpse the hairs popping up across his shoulder blades, making their way towards the middle where they met and grew into a thick fur. That fur sprouted down his spine, completing his coat. Above his ass it had grown in particularly thick, suggesting more to come soon. His arms were next, hairs sprouting down his thick biceps, and burying his forearms in a rug of dark hairs. The backs of his large hands were also coated, thick hairs popping up even on his knuckles. 

Despite feeling horrified at what he was becoming, Jake was overwhelmed by immense pleasure from the changes. Every hair that sprouted produced a euphoria like nothing he’d experienced before. He could feel the follicles pushing through the skin as they covered him in luscious brown fur. Something was distracting him from that sensation though, and it was in his crotch. A burning and stretching feeling was occurring down there, and though his heart sank, Jake pulled down his waistband to peek. His previously trimmed bush was pushing out, dark hairs erupting from his groin as they spread like wildfire. The hairs sprouted and grew thicker and curlier as they multiplied, traveling from the base of his cock all the way up and merging into his thick stomach hair. The bush spread outwards onto his thighs, and he felt his balls expanding as they began to hang lower. They too were buried beneath the fur that was taking over his groin, with thick wiry hairs growing all over his enlarging balls. Jake moaned in ecstasy as his pubes kept sprouting, growing longer and bushier. It felt wrong and disgusting but his body was overtaken by hormones and endorphins, the sensation of pleasure was undeniable.

The hairs continued taking over his smooth skin, traveling from his bush down his large thighs, popping up and growing dark and curly. They coated his legs, growing dense enough to darken the shade of his skin as hair sprouted all over his thighs and calves, before reaching his feet. Jake pulled off his shoes that were ripping at the seams, exposing his now size 15 feet. He watched as hairs wormed their way out across the tops of his feet, even sprouting on his toes. His entire body was now coated in thick brown hair, and Jake rubbed his hands through the newly grown fur as he moaned from the sensation.

His moment of pleasure was cut short by someone banging on the bathroom door.

“Hey Jake, you all good in there bro?” It was Eric, eager to see if their plan had worked.

“Uhh,” Jake hesitated, brought back to reality in a flash. “Yea dude, just a little sick to my stomach it’s no big deal, I’ll be out in a sec,” he replied with a shakiness in his voice. He looked at himself in the mirror. What would the rest of the team think? He looked about ten years older and fifty pounds heavier, not to mention the hairy mess he was now. He was unrecognizable as his past self, not to mention that his clothes didn’t even fit anymore. He struggled to put his shirt back on, leaving his hairy belly exposed, before cramming his huge feet back into his shoes. He took a deep breath, and then unlocked the door and walked back out into the bar.

His teammates had gathered around the door, waiting to see what had become of Jake. They gasped in unison as he opened the door, quickly changing to a howling laughter. 

“BROOOO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

“No way it actually worked! I can’t believe this”

“JAKE YOU’RE SO FAT AND HAIRY”

“GET OWNED DUDE”

“That Bear Brew really did a number on you man!”

Jake was taken aback, his transformation had been potted by his teammates! He was stunned into silence, standing there with his half-fitting shirt on as he was laughed at voraciously. Slowly the laughter cooled, and Eric came up and slapped him on the back.

“See you at practice tomorrow dude,” he said with a chuckle.

The rest of the team left Jake and headed out of the bar. He stood there grappling with the reality of his life now, how was he going to go back to everything like this? In the face of overwhelming stress, he decided to put it out of his mind for just a little while. He walked back to his table, picked up another can of beer, and sat down. His life was a problem for tomorrow.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie asked Steve to help with his oral fixation, and Steve agreed.

tags: rimming, a dash of daddy kink & breeding kink

"You want me what?" Steve turned away from the TV to squint at his roommate.

"I have this thing call oral fixation," Eddie explained easily. "Which means I need to get my mouth busy all the time."

Steve hummed noncommittally and nodded in understanding. "I see, we can buy lollipops–"

Eddie cut him off with a chaste kiss that turned heated quickly.

"I think you're already sweet enough for me, angel." Eddie whispered once they parted with a transparent thread connecting their lips.

Blushing, he laughed weakly and pushed Eddie away. "Alright, I'm gonna help you, dude. Don't need to butter me up like that."

"I know you're my favorite for a reason, Stevie," Eddie grinned, all sunshine and rainbow again when he wasn't trying to shove his tongue down Steve's throat.

And Steve was too eager to help that it never crossed his mind friends didn't made out with each other and called it a day.

Since then, Eddie would just sidle up behind him every time he was in the middle of something, bend him over any surface that was available at the moment, tugged his shorts down, and eat him out.

Once Eddie was done, he would clean Steve up nicely, tucked him in, and walked away as if nothing had ever happened.

Leaving Steve staring in bewilderment and arousal.

They never talked about it. They just treated it as this special thing between them, their little secret.

It also helped that they lived together. More convenient for Eddie whenever his craving decided to act up.

Gradually, it became their routine, they could be watching TV on the couch and Eddie would flip him over, burying his face into Steve's ass before digging into it.

Steve never thought having someone rim him would be cozy.

But Eddie always managed to surprise him most days, and this was no exception either.

Sometimes, he'd get so comfortable that he just dozed off and then woke up feeling floaty with Eddie's fingers combing through his hair gently.

Or occasionally, he'd simply read a book while Eddie lapped at his hole for hours.

It felt almost domestic if he dared to say.

Things remained like that until one day, when Eddie kept licking at that bundle of nerves, Steve didn't even have time to react before he came.

His moan was loud and high-pitched, and Steve blushed terribly once he realized what just happened.

"Did I just...?" He glanced back at Eddie, wide eyed and disbelieved.

"You just did, baby boy," Eddie grinned at him like a shark, red tongue tracing the pearly canines that always painted reds and purples on Steve's cheeks and thighs.

Steve didn't know what to do. He had grown to enjoy the feeling of Eddie's tongue fucking him so much that he just had an orgasm due to it.

It should give him shame and

embarrassment, but all he felt was a burning need to fill the hollowness inside him.

He wanted to be full.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve licked his lips nervously.

"Yeah? What is it?" Eddie stroked his lower back soothingly, but those eyes were dark and heavy as they pinned him in place.

"Can you give me more?" Steve breathed slowly, the air was so charged that it was almost suffocating.

"More what?" Eddie raised a curious brow while petting his hole temptingly.

"More than your tongue," Steve bit out, muscles pulled taut and heart racing.

He couldn't help but arch his ass toward those calloused fingers, seeking and craving for more.

Without warning, Eddie slipped a finger inside him and proceeded to pull out and push in slowly.

"Like this?"

Steve gasped and tried to clench down on the thick and long digit.

Granted, he had fingered himself multiple times, but when Eddie did it, it just hit different.

Surreal, thrilling, and exciting were all he could sum up.

"Eddie," he moaned, breathless and needy.

"Yeah, baby?" Eddie added another slicked finger and if Steve wasn't too horny to care, he'd definitely remember that they didn't stash lube anywhere nearby.

"Fuck me," he rolled his eyes back as Eddie stroked that spot again. "Bet y– your cock would reach deeper, feel better."

"Jesus," Eddie let out an amused huff. "When did you become such a slut, hm?" He crooked his fingers, making Steve see the fucking Milky Way. "What did you do to my good boy who'd blush prettily every time I teased him?"

"Your good boy is asking you to fuck him," Steve whined and undulated his hips to chase after that toes-curling pleasure.

"Is that so?" Eddie chuckled and retreated his fingers.

Before Steve could complain, he felt something hot and thick slowly breached his loose hole.

By the time Eddie was seated fully inside him, he was drooling and cross eyed, being stuffed full and stretched to the seams.

"Still good?" Hot lips brushed against the shell of his ear.

"Y– Yeah," he slurred. "Sooo good."

Eddie was nothing he imagined. Somehow, Eddie was better than tongue and fingers could ever be.

"Gonna fuck you til you cry," Eddie murmured huskily, full of promise and hunger. "Gonna ruin you for good."

Steve couldn't say anything, mouth agape as the source of heat inside him started moving, dragging every little noise and breathy moan out of him.

He felt drunk, high, and stupid. If only he didn't chicken out every time he was about to confess to Eddie, then they could've had this sooner.

He'd have been railed to his heart's content, would've been allowed to taste Eddie's cock, would've had Eddie in his bed instead of having to jerk himself off roughly in his room after being eaten out by Eddie every time.

He had wasted so much time, missed so many chances.

"Love you," he mewled into his folded arms. "Love you so much, Eddie. Love your stupid cock, love your stupid tongue, love your stupid smiles."

Eddie cursed quietly and stopped moving. The lack of motions got Steve whine his complaint loudly.

"Did you mean it?" Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, voice so low and raspy that it almost sounded like a growl.

When Steve took too long to answer, Eddie snapped his hips and punched out a chocked-off moan out of him.

"Did you mean it, Steve?"

"I m– meant it," he nodded blindly.

Eddie pulled out and carefully flipped him on his back. "Say it again."

Now, they were face to face, Steve suddenly felt shy. He made grabby hands at Eddie, needing close contact to soothe his nerves.

Eddie's features softened visibly as he gathered Steve into his lap.

He cupped Steve's face gently and placed tender kisses on it.

Meanwhile, Steve couldn't stand the emptiness inside him any longer, so he grabbed Eddie's cock and impelled himself on it once more.

The new angle knocked his breath away, making him dizzy and delirious.

"I love you," he sighed softly, feeling more settled when he was full.

"Love you too, sweetheart," Eddie held him securely and kissed him fondly. "My pretty cock slut, aren't you?"

"Mhm," he wrapped his arms around broad shoulders and met those brown eyes, so sweet and loving. "All yours, daddy."

That was the last coherent thing he uttered.

Because as soon as he let the title slip, Eddie had railed him within an inch of his life until he forgot his own name.

At some point, he had convinced Eddie to take off the condom.

"Don't you want to knock me up, daddy?"

Apparently, Eddie was a huge perv and more than on board with Steve's baby fever.

Needless to say, they had had spent a long time in the shower later to help Steve wash out the cum.

But in Steve's opinion, it was worth all the trouble when Eddie got on his knees and ate him out until he cried and squirted messily on the tiled floor.

Afterward, once they both left the bathroom in fresh clothes and climbed into bed together, they had talked and kissed and giggled before drifting off in each other's arms.

Who would've thought helping out your friend would lead you to your happiness?

Definitely not Steve.

Not that he would complain when it led him to Eddie, though.

———

Anyway, I live for free use!Steve who's only available for Eddie.

Steve: *simply exists*

Eddie: Oh my god, all of this goodness just for me?

[flametrashiraarchive]

YOUR DOUMA HEAD CANNONS WERE SO GOODDD you should write about him more ^_^

☺️ thank you!

I will never pass up the chance to write more about the murder pookie. Part one here!

NSFW under the cut.

CW for oral sex while sleeping

DOUMA HEADCANONS 2

Have I mentioned that this man is a menace?

One time he had you sit in his lap with your back to his chest while he was delivering a sermon.

His cock was inside you the entire time. And you can bet this fucker dragged the sermon out.

"Stay completely still. Nobody must suspect a thing. If you're a good pet, you'll be rewarded when they leave."

If his disciples noticed they didn't let on.

But he loved it. Couldn't stop grinning whenever your muscles desperately clenched and twitched around his cock.

Finally let you start riding when you were alone again, his elegant fingers and soft hands assisting you with orgasm after orgasm.

Singsongs your name when he wants attention and you're otherwise occupied. If you dont reply right away he gets whiny.

Many assume he's airheaded because of his playful nature. But Douma is incredibly cunning.

And he loves you because you recognize that in him.

"You're smart too, for a human."

Loves to talk about grand philosophies while you're fucked out and slipping into sleep. Nudges you awake so he can keep talking to you.

Sends you out alone to buy flowers since the flower market is only open during the day. He trusts you to return to him. Knows you're just as smitten with him as he is with you. Loves the flowers you pick. Lets you braid them into his hair.

Loves to walk you through the city at night, a slender, gold chain around your neck, connected to an identical one around his wrist.

All symbolic of course, but oh so pretty.

Lets you paint his nails.

Gets away with literal murder because you find him adorable.

Extra snuggly and needy after the upper moon meeting. They were so cold to him 🥺

Leaves his little fangs sticking out against his bottom lip if you're in a grumpy mood.

Loves petting your hair and your skin. Will order the finest oils and bejeweled combs to preen his "soft, pretty little pet."

Buys you the prettiest clothes. Sits cross-legged on the floor and applauds you when you try them on for him.

The oral fixation on this guy...

He doesn't require sleep, so sometimes when you're asleep and he's bored, he likes to get between your knees and... wake you up 👀

Loves how you squirm and whimper in your sleep. You belong to him when conscious and in your dreams.

Tried masturbating after he figured out he could cum. Wasn't all that into it. Felt kinda lonely.

Experimented with jerking off in front of you while you pleasured yourself for him, which was a little more fun, but he only really cums when he's fucking you.

Enjoys seeing you wear his "pearls"

Loves to cook for you! And he's really good at it too. Will never share his recipes.

Has had intrusive thoughts about sharing you... especially with Muzan. The thought of his master coveting his beloved... *shivers*

Oh but he couldn't bear to see his favorite toy get broken.

He adores you far too much to let anything happen to you.

[myboykillme]

This is a fanfiction of Ray from Binary Star Hero, what would have happened if you counties teasing him... It is a smut so minors do not interact or whatever they say. I hope you enjoy?

Smut under the cut, 18+

Maybe inviting Ray to sleep in bed with me was a bad idea, the feel of his hard body against mine is distracting. I can feel his growing hardness twitching in his pants, the thin pajamas I'm wearing doing nothing to stop the feel of him. Despite his earlier warning, I decided to back into him again, this time without saying a word except for a tiny whimper.

Embarrassment flooded my veins at my reaction, has it been so long since I had any sex? Suddenly, I felt a grip on my hips and a breath on my neck from a deep chuckle. "Your thoughts are loud, Star. Don't say I didn't warn you..." I couldn't see him but it made it even more exciting.

A gasp could be heard from me as he ground his dick into me with a groan, then he started kissing my neck softly, teasing me. My pulse quickened from his teasing, I became more and more aware of the wetness that was gathering in between my thighs. "Ray, I didn't mean to-" He flipped me onto my back, his eyes having a slight ruby tint, like he was still holding himself back.”You knew exactly what you were doing…”. I felt myself getting lost in his eyes, I brushed some loose hairs out of his face and kissed him.

It was more of a kiss of lust than love, he dominated the kiss while feeling me up like I would disappear if he wasn't touching me. I combed my hands through the strands of his golden hair, giving it a harsh tug, pulling himself towards me. Deeper, I needed to feel his honeyed tongue against mine. He whined into the kiss from the pain, and that's when I heard the sound of fabric ripping. I pulled away in shock, and then he smirked, liking my reaction to his want. "I'll buy you a new one..." I nodded shyly, shrugging the tattered garment off of me, eagerly unclipping my bra.

Ray sucked a sharp breath in, then he started attacking my chest with kisses. I giggled at his softness, that's when his eyes darkened, and he bit down on my neck. Letting out a louder moan, the pain going straight to my core. That's when I uttered the words I never thought I would, "More~". He smirked against my neck as he started sucking on the skin, making me whine and whimper. Trailing down my upper body with increasing fervor, my lower half felt on fire.

Suddenly, I became aware of his lack of nakedness in contrast to mine, knowing he could read my mind. I just tugged at the end of it, gesturing for him to take it off. He quickly took it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. The scars littered across his upper body made him look like a mosaic painting. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, I traced the muscles on him absentmindedly before realizing he was watching me also with awe. "You look breathtaking, Ray..." I said with a hushed breath, feeling his eyes looking into my very soul. "Star, you have no idea what you do to me."

My hero traced my hips with his fingers, before slowly easing me out of my pants and undergarments. Goosebumps came all over my body from the intensity of his gaze, he seemed like he would swallow me whole if he let him. Feeling his hands brush over my sensitive areas made me move closer to him to gain some friction.

Finally, I felt little circles on my clit, I threw my head back on a loud whine of his name. "I'm going to ruin your body, make it all mine, little Star" He pinched my clit making me whine in pain, almost in no time his finger was deep inside of me. "You're such a greedy little thing, you suck me in as a whole" Easily sticking another finger in, my eyes rolled back to my head. He relentlessly attacked my G-spot while circling in my clit. "Oh fuck! RAY!" I cried out his name from his attacks of pleasure, grasping his arm, feeling hazy burning spasms of mind-blowing sensations flooding my body.

My orgasm was coming quickly, I wasn't even sure what was going on, all I could focus on was Ray's piercing eyes as he drove me crazy. His eyes looked like he wanted to devour me as a whole, a divine offering. He kept eye contact as he gave my nipples little licks, then sucks. God how can someone look so sexy? Thanks to his never stopping stimulation, my built-up pleasure came to a mind-numbing finale, my climax took my breath away as my juices came out of me.

I screamed his name when I came, my eyes rolling back into my head. Slowly but surely, the pace of his fingers came to a halt as I came down from my high. A whine left my throat when he removed his long fingers from my cunt. Embarrassment washed over me at my body's reaction, but Ray looked feral…

Ray licked his fingers clean, savoring the taste of my arousal without a hint of revulsion. His eyes gleamed with hunger as he took in my flushed and panting form. In a flash, he unbuckled his belt and shucked off his pants and boxers, revealing his impressive erection. I couldn't help but stare in awe at the sight of his muscular physique glistening with sweat, his cock throbbing and leaking precum.

Catching my gaze, Ray smirked and tilted my chin with his fingers, forcing me to meet his eyes. "My eyes are up here, Star," he teased, chuckling at my flustered expression. I playfully swatted at his arm, still blushing at being caught ogling him so brazenly.

Without warning, Ray grabbed my legs and placed them on his shoulders, the new position leaving me open and exposed. I gasped as I felt the blunt head of his cock nudging against my entrance, already slick and ready from my earlier orgasm. He was so large, I could feel myself stretching to accommodate his size as he slowly pushed forward, inch by delicious inch.

"Oh fuck," Ray groaned, his voice strained with pleasure as he finally hilted inside me. I let out a high-pitched whine, my walls fluttering around his thick length. "You were made for me, my Star," he murmured, his hips starting to move in a slow, hard rhythm. "I hope you like it rough..." Before I could even process his words, Ray began to increase his pace, each powerful thrust sending sparks of pleasure-pain shooting through my sensitive body.

The combination of sensations, the lingering ache from my climax, and the new stimulation of his cock driving into me had tears springing to my eyes. I could only cling to him desperately, my nails raking down his back as I surrendered to the overwhelming onslaught of feeling. My screams and moans echoed off the walls, a symphony of lust and ecstasy.

He began thrusting harder, his hips slapping against mine with each powerful stroke. Somehow he never even faltered once, he seemed motivated to make my cunt remember the shape of him. "Fuck, you're so tight, like you were made for me" Ray grunted, his voice steady but clouded with lust and admiration. "I knew you'd feel amazing, but this... shit, you're perfect."

He captured my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering, claiming every inch of me. Suddenly I felt a hand wrap around my throat, adding to the hazy sensations. I whimpered into his mouth, the feeling of him around me all-consuming.

He hooked my legs higher, which allowed him to go even deeper, and I screamed as he hit a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. My pussy clenched around him like a vice, greedily trying to keep him inside, to hold him hostage in my heat.

I cried out, my voice breaking on a sob of ecstasy. "Harder, Ray! Fuck me harder!" I was lost to the pleasure, drowning in the sensation of being so filled, so utterly claimed. I wanted to be ruined, wanted him to mark me, to make it so that I would never forget this moment, this feeling.

He gave me a confident smile as he continued ravishing my insides, knowing I'm getting closer and closer. “Such a pretty slut, taking me so well” I felt my front hit the mattress as he flipped me with an unnatural speed, then immediately slammed back into me. My voice broke as I let out another scream at the sudden intrusion, which I welcomed despite his dick almost reaching too deep.

My insides burned with the flames of passion, igniting the coil in my lower stomach that was about to burst. I gripped the sheet now like an animal, his larger frame fucking me into the mattress vigorously. In that moment we only let out grunts and moans, knowing we were losing ourselves in this instinctual rhythm called sex. The grip on my hips were bruising as he just kept going harder and harder, I felt myself cry into the sheets in ecstasy as the hot flood of my orgasm hit me.

He never once faltered as he fucked me through my orgasm, but it started to feel to much. “Oh god Ray, please, please, please…” Mindless words spilled out of my mouth, from the sheer overstimulation from his thrusts. “You wanted this… my Star. I'm going to ruin you” Despite his words after a few moments he spilled his seed inside me, making me fully his. When he pulled out of me I could feel his cum dripping out of me onto the sheet, I collapsed with a satisfied smile.

“You know if this hero business doesn't work out, you could just be a pornstar.” I watched his reaction to this statement, he looked a bit baffled but confident lighting his cigarette, taking a long drag. “Alright, but only if we partner up.” I gasped in surprise, not expecting his possessiveness to let him respond like that. “You would let others see me?” Ray chuckled in response, inhaling more smoke before he spoke. “I will buy them all off of you, don't even think for a second otherwise, pornstar”

[torasplanet]

❝𝙈𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏.ᐟ❞

H. SANZU + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; haruchiyo celebrates his sobriety but all he can think about is how you got him here and how badly he wants to put a ring on your finger

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, smut, drug abuse (mentioned), best wing men haitanis, bonten is a silly organization, proposals, hair-pulling, car sex, p in v, riding, porn w plot ig, love dovey shit, kinda vanilla ngl, this sucks, skin color not mentioned.

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; part one!!, for my darling @mdsbabygirl

One.

One year of sobriety. That’s how long Haruchiyo Sanzu has been sober from all drug paraphernalia and they’re also the words that were indented on this little silver chip in his hand. Scarred skin stretches as he smiles looking down at it, how can something be so little yet so important? Claps and words of congratulations and encouragement fill his ears, everyone is proud of him and he’s proud of himself too but all he can think about is you and how proud you probably are of him. Haruchiyo didn’t know it had been a year until he got here but you knew this morning, he didn’t know what you were so smiley about trying to hide it but now he does.

Haruchiyo looks up from the coin and at the group of people standing in front of him smiling. He remembers how much he hated these people when he first got here but pretended like he didn’t make you happy. “So what are you going to do now?” The leader of the group says putting a hand on the pinkette’s shoulder once he stands. He shrugs and his smile gets bigger at his first thought “See my

wife.” A gasp comes from one of the older women there.

“You proposed!?” He makes an awkward laugh as he ruffles his hair. “Not yet…” Haruchiyo had been thinking about the proposal for a long time, but he never really knew what to do. At first, he thought about buying a diamond ring in your favorite color and proposing in the living room but everyone, and I mean everyone, told him that was quite literally one of the worst ways to do it so he didn’t. He didn’t know there were special rules to this but he had to do something that you’d like which is easy but how is he supposed to ask you about the ring if you don't know he’s going to propose? It confused him a lot but it was no problem for him, he had all the money to get whatever ring you wanted in the world. If you wanted him to propose in a new mansion just for you with a 24-karat gold ring, he’d do it but he didn’t know if that was what you wanted. The ring that is, he’s considering the mansion.

Haruchiyo soon found himself in his car driving down the street but not to the apartment you both shared, to bonten hideout. He had a day off, he didn’t need to be there but he needed to talk to the people there. Haruchiyo had never gotten this close to marrying someone so he needed help, Kakucho and Koko were probably the best to ask about this, Kakucho is a sweetheart and a lover boy, and Koko…well he just knows about rings and what girls want. Honestly, Haruchiyo would take any advice with this, he just doesn’t want to fuck this up. You’re the best thing in his life and he doesn’t want this proposal to be wrong. His way of doing it is not enough, the way he thinks you’d like is probably too much. If it were up to him to plan it with you and what you want in mind, he’d already plan the wedding.

“What’s up team, how’s your paperwork?” Haruchiyo said sarcastically, throwing open the doors immediately, getting goose flesh from the temperature here. Everyone looked at him annoyedly, clearly liking it better when he was not here and his annoying sarcastic “It’s your day off, why are you here?” Koko asked combing the ends of his hair out while the Haitanis and Kakucho played cards, everyone else was nowhere to be seen. “Why were you even gone?” Rindou asked briefly looking up from his cards and the pink-haired man grabbed the coin from his pocket and tossed it to Rindou.

The mullet-haired man observed the coin before blinking back up to meet the green eyes, he didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s not real.” Haruchiyo rolled his eyes and scowled “Yeah, no shit but that’s not the point. I’m one year sober.” He said with a sigh, he never thought he would say anything like that.

There was once a time in Haruchiyo’s life when he’d rather die than get sober even for a week and everyone was proud of him even a little bit, of course didn’t show it but still. It was a special moment and he took a day off for it. “What did you come here for again?” Rindou was extremely annoyed at Haruchiyo’s presence as he leaned on the crates everyone sat on. “Well I was thinking of proposing but…I don’t know how she wants me to do it.” The scarred-faced man said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know if I should be surprised that you’re gonna propose or that you’re not doing it in a garage,” Koko said, still not looking up from his hair. He’s annoyed at the split ends. They weren’t on the best terms right now because Koko was still annoyed about Haruchiyo treating you so badly all of these years. After all, surprisingly, Koko actually likes you. I mean you’re a sweetheart and sometimes bring coffee or food to the hideout when Haruchiyo brings you, what’s not to like? Usually, none of them would care if any guy from here treated a girl badly, not enough to step in or be angry at them but you were different. Everyone liked you to some degree, you weren’t some whore that just let that pinkette slaps you around and treat you like shit; you did stick around after everything he did but you yell at him, you push him away, you leave for days. Most girls haruchiyo have been with let him do whatever the fuck he wants.

Bonten likes that you’re a sweetheart but also doesn’t let anyone run you the fuck over. But mainly they want to see Haruchiyo get yelled at. It’s like a movie for them to see you slapping him and cursing at him.

Haruchiyo rolls his eyes at Koko’s comment before turning to look at Kakucho and the brothers, completely ignoring the other man. “Well, I need you guys to ask her about what she wants for a proposal when she comes here next time.” He says as Rindou throws all the cards on the ground for losing against Kakucho and his brother. While Ran is busy being shouted at for cheating by Rindou, Kakucho decides to answer Haruchiyo.

“Sure, I’m glad you’re finally tying the knot.” The black-haired male said, giving him a nod of approval and making the older man smile. “Wait, does that mean no more trailer trash fights at the club? Aw.” Ran asks to be held by his collar by Rindou who still hasn’t let up with the yelling. Haruchiyo sighs and hops down, he gives the eldest haitani the finger before leaving the way he came in. Ran was annoying but Haruchiyo was grateful that he and Kakucho had agreed to help him, he really wanted to make this as special as possible and make it to suit your specific tastes but he really needed this to be a secret. It’s gonna be as special as possible!

You giggle as Haruchiyo pulls you as close as possible to him while drowning you in kisses, you two hadn’t even lasted a second out of the car before he got clingy. It was so weird but for some reason, your boyfriend had been really clingy; he never wanted to let you go and he always wanted to kiss you. He started staying home from work a lot just to be with you. At first, you began to think that he had done something wrong but he denied it and just wanted to always be around you. 

“Come on, stop it! Mikey’s gonna stop me from coming again.” You muttered, pushing him away from you and beginning to walk toward the entrance of the hideout but the green-eyed man couldn’t care less and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “We both know that wasn’t from us hugging.” He whispered into your ear as the two of you walked in, almost everyone was present but only three actually cared about the new people in the room. 

“Yeah, we did a lot more than hug.” You muttered walking toward the Haitanis and Kakucho assuming Haruchiyo would follow but he didn’t “Alright, I gotta go talk to Mikey. I’ll be right back, baby.” You didn’t even get a word out before he kissed your cheek and zoomed off to Mikey’s office. Ugh, he had been acting so strange recently but I guess it’s expected with how many days he had taken off nowadays.

A whistle caught your attention and you turned to see Ran gesturing you over to the table he, his brother, and Kakucho had been just talking. Koko sat not at the table but just a bit near counting money as always. “What’s up?” You asked to sit at the table and Ran, as always, smiled evilly. “Nothing just had a question.” Kakucho interrupts before Ran can say something that is too mean, it’s a habit for him.

“Has the psycho proposed to you yet? I mean it’s been…what? Four years since you two started to date?” Rindou asked with the same stupid smile his brother wears and you freeze. What? You had never even thought of these people asking you about marriage between you and haruchiyo! Normally they yell about how they want the worst for him and how they hate him so fucking much; your boyfriend is not very well-liked around here. It seems more like they’re making fun of you more than actually caring about it.

“Uh no, I mean, we haven’t talked about it or anything…” Koko raises an eyebrow at your words and turns to look at you. “So that idiot doesn’t even have an idea of the setting you want for it? Or your ring? Pfft.” Koko said, nearly folding over and laughing at you. You did not like this at all. It felt like you were being put on the spot.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “No, like I said, we haven’t talked about it. I don’t even think he’d know what ring I’m talking about anyway.” You said folding your arms across your chest and Ran hummed. “What ring is it?” He asked and you paused. There have been dozens of rings you’d come across over the years that you loved but there was one that you just adored.

“Pure diamond, (f/c) and (shape). I don’t care what brand I just want it to look like that.” You said and Koko took note of this. They got the ring out of you now they need the actual proposal setting. “Boring. You don’t want something like a Darry ring or Brilliance?” Koko asked, pretending to yawn knowing he pisses you off when he does shit like this. In his mind, and quite literally everyone else in this room, the angrier they make you, the less likely you are to figure out why they even care about this. 

You shake your head “No, I want that. And I doubt any other girl will get as close to marrying him as me.” That everyone could agree and not necessarily because you were the shit or anything, just because it’s Haruchiyo and no one can stand his bullshit but you. “Well, you can’t have a pretty ring and get proposed in a garage because that’s as classy as you’re getting. The both of you are trailer trash.” Rindou muttered, ignoring that everyone in this room, except Koko, was practically trailer trash when they were younger. You found that ridiculous; if Haruchiyo ever proposed to you, you wouldn’t want it to be in some expensive ass restaurant thousands of feet in the air, something small but sweet.

“I don’t want anything expensive or shit like that. I don’t really care what it is, I just want it to be something that makes it seem like he listens to me y’know? I mean, you probably don’t because none of you have girlfriends.” You said changing your tone halfway remembering who you were talking to. Rindou held a hand up with a raised eyebrow “Woah, I do.” He said and immediately everyone in the room burst into laughter completely forgetting about the talk beforehand. Kakucho hadn’t forgotten though, he was just taking mental notes to tell his pink-haired co-worker about what you had said.

Kakucho is a man of few words but he was already thinking about the words he’d say at the wedding reception. He didn’t show it but he really liked the idea of the two of you getting married. Out of all the years he’s known the Sanzu man, you were the first good thing in his life and he really wanted it to last for Haruchiyo. Kakucho didn’t care much for him but he could admit that his life had been a whole lot worse from before you came into it. Although Haruchiyo had suffered from his addictions throughout the relationship with you, it was the first time he had at least made an effort to get clean, and felt bad when it failed. Kakucho has actually started liking Haruchiyo more nowadays because of your effect. He really liked that and was glad the effect was going to be permanent soon enough.

A few weeks passed and not another word about the proposal was spoken, well to you at least, but Haruchiyo’s clinginess never relaxes until one afternoon. “Babe, I got you something!” He yells bursting into the apartment as you sit in the living room watching foreign shows still in your pajamas (his shirt and panties). You look up at him in your sleepy mess as he rummages through the bag he got before he lifts a dress in the air, it’s not too fancy but not too casual and just your style. “What’s this for?” You question standing and grabbing the dress which just feels expensive under your fingertips.

He grins widely at you and shoves it into your arm “No time to explain sweets. Just get dressed and get as pretty as you want.” Haruchiyo says kissing your cheek before opening the door and leaving out of it as fast as he came in. You stand there confused until the door opens again “Don’t wear heels.” He says again and leaves, once more. This was not strange for your lover, he likes to surprise you but isn’t really good at hiding his excitement but he tries his best by not seeing you much. You would think that you two are going to a club but it’s too early and no heels? An idea of what you two were doing didn’t even pop into your head, he’s random and could do anything right now.

But regardless, you get dressed, do your hair and makeup, and wait for him on the couch and he returns looking just as fancy as you do. Not as fancy, just a casual button-up and slacks, his hair is slicked back with some pomade making you smile, he looks so good. “Aw, you look so good, baby.” You said standing and cupping his cheeks, you kissed his cheeks leaving glossy stains which made him smile childishly. “You look better but we gotta hurry!” Haruchiyo said loudly before dragging you out of the apartment.

You wondered why he’s acting like this, or at least where you two were going because he always acts like this for dates. He’s either in a hurry or can’t let you see his excitement so he’s not around when planning a date especially if it’s a surprise. Of course, a proposal crossed your mind with the Bonten members prodding at you a few weeks ago but it quickly left, you didn’t think Haruchiyo would be planning a proposal at the last minute and he knows his date habits. He most likely would’ve tried to stop doing that and act normal so it couldn’t possibly be that. Where was he taking you this time?

Well you two were not taking a limo, he’s driving the Jeep so you weren’t going anywhere he could get drunk. Haruchiyo was sober from drugs but not alcohol yet, alcohol might’ve been one of the main things that helped him maintain that feeling when he was stressed or at the club. “Where are we going Haru?” You asked as he started the car while he slicked back a stray hair. “A picnic. I remember you saying something about a good spot for a picnic, so I thought that we could do that. Y’know Mikey told me I had a day off and I want to spend it with you.” He said, shrugging his shoulders making you smile at him, he’s such a sweetie. 

The whole ride, you talked his ear off not really noticing how he was on the bridge of shitting himself. He was so nervous, I mean what if you said no because of everything he’s done in the past? He wouldn’t blame you but he’d be hurt, he worked so hard to become better for you and he wanted it to last forever. If you said no, he’d fucking lose his mind.

A gasp left your throat when you saw where you two had parked. “Aw, you remembered!” You shouted, staring at the cherry blossom tree on a hill. You two lived in the city so finding especially this big and beautiful was rare. Of course, he remembered, Haruchiyo remembers almost everything you tell him; he just sometimes doesn’t do much with it. “Yeah, I thought it’d be cute for our picnic. Can you take the blanket? I don’t want stains on your dress.” The male asked, opening his car door and you agreed, grabbing the thin plaid blanket, you left the car. 

Once you climbed the hill, you laid the blanket out evenly and sat on it waiting for your boyfriend to come up the hill and once he did he had a handful. His hands were full of the picnic basket and other things that couldn’t fit in there that you loved. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” You ask as he sets them down before collapsing on the blanket breathing heavily. “You shouldn’t have to carry anything.” He said completely out of breath making you giggle.

The two of you started your picnic and started to eat but Haruchiyo couldn’t get the idea of you in a wedding dress out of his head. The weight of that perfect ring for you in his pocket was burdening and he wouldn’t be surprised if it fell out because it burned a hole through his slacks. He was trying so hard to not make it obvious that he was proposing but he felt like he had already failed at that. Before he could even sigh, something hit him hard in the forehead. 

“What the fuck!” He said holding his head that probably had a bruise on it, he looked to see what it was and it was an apple. An apple that fell from a fucking cherry blossom tree, yeah right. You stood up and looked at the tree for any sign of an apple or a stem. “Where did that come from?” As you talked, Haruchiyo spotted Ran hiding behind a car with his phone gesturing for him to do it. For him to propose. Fuck. Here goes.

Haruchiyo maneuvered himself on one knee and pulled the ring case out of his pocket with a deep breath and a clear of his throat, you looked at him and your eyes widened. The wind blew and cherry blossom leaves fell from above the two of you “[Y/n] [L/n].” His voice was incredibly shaky as he saw tears burn in your eyes. 

“We’ve been together for what feels like forever and during that time, you’ve made me a better person than I ever thought I could be. I want that to last, I want us to last.” His entire body was shaking about now, the sun was shining in his eyes and the only thing he could see was you standing there with your hands covering your mouth and the sun shining on you so beautifully. He loved this sight. “Will you marry me?” Haruchiyo was barely able to let out a breath before you jumped on him with a squeal. The two of you rolled down the hill as you snuggled yourself closer to him while attacking his lips with many kisses.

“Yes! Of course, I will.” You said loudly once you two came to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Haruchiyo smiled and looked at his hand that he had closed in a death grip. He took the ring from its cage grabbed your hand with the gentleness of an angel and slipped it onto your ring finger. Where it belonged.

“Fucking finally, we’ve been waiting here for thirty damn minutes,” Koko said coming out of nowhere and making you jump. Soon half of bonten came from their hiding spots, confusing you completely. “He means congratulations,” Kakucho says smiling at you, he bows his head slightly in respect but nobody else does. Rindou and Ran smiled. “Yeah, we can’t wait to plan the wedding,” Rindou muttered.

Koko frowned “Excuse me? That’s my job.” You sat up straddling Haruchiyo who was staring completely at where the two of your bodies met intensely. He needed this to speed up “Uh you haven’t even said congrats yet?” He rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“Mazel Tov.” 

“He’s not even fucking Jewish.”

“Well, I just converted so suck my dick.”

Haruchiyo sighed as he sat up holding onto your hips so you wouldn’t fall “Thank you but we have a reservation to make so fucking leave.” He said standing up with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist as you giggled girlishly. “What about your mess?” Rindou asked meanly and before Haruchiyo could demand anything, you spoke. “Please clean it for us, I can’t wait any longer to talk with Haru.” You said in the sweetest voice you could manage as Haruchiyo carried you to the car. Rindou glared at you but he sighed giving you a yes, he could say no to every single person but when it came to a girl that wasn’t a spiteful bitch or a greedy drug addict, he couldn’t even form an N.

You thanked him and the rest of them as Haruchiyo put you in the car and waved to them all as if you had already gotten married. The sun started to set on the drive to the restaurant and all you did was stare at the ring on your hand, it was beautiful and you felt like you were going to cry again “Oh baby don’t cry.” Haruchiyo said, looking away from the road and you wiped your eyes while sniffling. “I’m just so happy. I knew you were acting weird.” You said laughing and pointing at your now fiance who couldn’t help but cheese at your words. You were so happy, you just couldn’t contain it.

“I know, I wanted to make it special without making it too obvious but I guess it was anyway,” Haruchiyo said, rolling his eyes and you swooned before leaning over and giving him a wet kiss. The man had to force you away so he could focus on not crashing but now he had a tent in his pants to deal with and there’s an entire dinner ahead of him. “It’s already special!” You shouted all giggly with a smile. Your lipgloss was stained on Haruchiyo’s lips and all over it and it made him go wild when he saw it in the rearview mirror.

Shit, he shouldn’t have taken you to your favorite restaurant; he wasn’t going to last more than fifteen minutes here.

Thirty minutes into the dinner, Haruchiyo was absolutely devouring his food in hopes that the taste would distract him from how badly he wanted you. “I should’ve known you were going to do this.” Laughter followed your words as you smiled at the pink-haired man adoring him, you had barely touched your food but you weren’t exactly hungry for that. “Because of the Haitanis asking about the ring?” He asked looking up at you through his long eyelashes making you nearly explode out of adoration.

“Yeah but also, your one year was recently. You were really happy to bring me home that chip, all you did was thank me.” You said, reaching forward and pressing back the stray hairs of Haruchiyo’s. “Can you blame me? You’re the entire reason I made it this far, that chip made me realize how badly I wanted to marry you.” He muttered, grabbing hold of your hand and staring at the ring. It was pretty pricey but nothing is too expensive for Haruchiyo especially when it comes to you.

“I know I fucked up a lot of times but you made me want to be better to you and for you. I can’t imagine being better without you.” He was so sweet. You didn’t know if you were gonna cry because of his words or because of how badly you wanted to jump on him and kiss him.

Haruchiyo blinked back at you as you did with him, he was barely able to blink again before you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him above the table. It was rough, messy, and full of love but it wasn’t enough for you so when you detached you still held him in place breathing heavily. “Let’s go to the bathroom.” You muttered to him and Haruchiyo looked at you with wide eyes and said something he never thought he’d say. 

“Not today. I want it to be special for you, I have everything waiting at home…even though Kakucho set it up.” The last part was a whisper as Haruchiyo and you both sat down in your seats once more. It was weird, usually, Haruchiyo is the desperate one who always wants to have a quickie in the bathroom but now it’s you. “Then let’s leave now, I can’t wait. I just love you too much Haru.” It sounded like you were going to cry if you didn’t leave right now. 

You weren’t going to last a second once you two got in that car, Haruchiyo knew it. Those candles and petals trailing to the bed were going to have to wait for round two. Hey, at least you’re not focusing on why all the servers look fucking terrified of him and why the owner isn’t here like usual.

The car moved non-stop as you bounced up and down pathetically on Haruchiyo’s cock as he sat in the reclined driver’s seat groaning with his head thrown back. “Haru! Fuck!” Your grip on his hair tightened making him wince slightly and then a grin stretched across his lipgloss-covered lips. His fingers dug into the side of your thighs which will definitely leave bruises for him to apologize about later.

It was hot and sweaty which is one of the main reasons why Haruchiyo hates car sex. The AC hasn’t been working lately but it was your night so whatever you wanted, of course, he was going to give it to you. “You look so damn pretty. Ngh.” You pulled at his long pink locks harder while groaning. “Fuck you for making this about me.” You moaned through your hasty breaths as you bounced up and down on his lengthy cock. You were making so many shameless noises from both lips, it was whorish really how anyone could walk by and hear you slutting yourself out on your boyfriend–fiance’s dick.

Haruchiyo blinked at you as your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead while you moaned loudly riding him like there was no tomorrow, you confused him. “Baby–fuck…you’re my wife now, of course, it’s about you.” A slap was delivered to his soft cheek making it red in no time. It was hard for you to express yourself as he split your cunt open “No…I’m really proud of you. You did it.” There were very few words that you could barely form with all the saliva in your mouth and how you were moaning but it was clear what you meant. Haruchiyo had finally gotten better, and it was working you up.

Tears started to form in your eyes both from the pleasure and how proud you were of Haruchiyo. “You helped me do it, you’re my light. I fucking love you.” Haruchiyo says bringing his hand to the scruff of your neck and bringing you down to kiss you sloppily as you brought yourself and the man closer to your climaxes with his tip hitting that one gushy spot. You practically screamed into his mouth as he came inside you with a squeeze of the back of your neck.

Your legs shook on top of his bare ones as your climax quickly followed him like a rush whilst the two of you made out hungrily. As you slowed down, the squelches of every juice you had made echoed throughout the car along with the hard breathing from the two of you. 

Haruchiyo grabbed your hair and pulled you away from him with an evil smile on his face “Think you’re hot shit for slapping me around like that?” He asked and when you didn’t respond, he pulled harder. Whines left your wet lips as your back arched “No..” Haruchiyo’s grin grew wider at your answer. His lips grew close to your ear to whisper as if he needed to do that.

“Aw really? I wish you enjoyed yourself because I’m gonna be a lot fucking meaner when we get home.” He promised you would make a chill run up your spine but you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of your love slapping you around on a bed surrounded by candles and roses, he noticed that.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[postmodernbeliever]

fox mulder nsfw alphabet (for female/feminine readers)

an a-z of what's it's like to be loved by fox mulder in allllll the ways you wish you could be.

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i’ve never made one of these before so i followed another post’s example! a lot of this is chubby-girl friendly but also works for any body type. also, i got carried away so enjoy how long this is LOL. <3

my ao3 | word count: 3,537

content tags: smut smut smut SO MUCH SMUT, dom fox mulder, soft fox mulder, nsfw alphabet challenge, lots of kinks but i don't wanna spoil you gotta read it :), mentions of period/period blood, cross-posted on ao3

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a: aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he is sweet. like, really sweet. he loves to be gentle, to tell you how pretty you are and how good you did for him, praising you up and down and giving you lots of slow, adoring kisses. he also tends to get a bit bashful, because even if he just fucked you senseless you still give him butterflies; so often he hides his face in the crook of your neck or lays on your stomach, and talks quietly, like he’s shy. all his guards are down, and he is wholly dependent and doting on you.

actionwise, he cleans you up and helps you into some clean pajamas, but he usually leaves you bottom-less because you tend to be sensitive and the feeling of fabric between your legs can be an overload on your senses. but he covers you however he can, and he combs through your hair, gets you water, helps you get comfortable in bed. he’s so gentle it’s straight-up dreamy. 

b: body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, fox likes his hands. he knows they’re pretty big, considering he’s a bit tall, and he thinks they look strong, but he takes more pride in them also being soft. he has some callouses, but the pads of his fingers are smooth. and when he met you, you told him how nice they looked and felt, and that won him over.

on you, he can’t pick between your love handles/waist and thighs. he loves to squeeze where you have the most skin, and both of those places are where your body curves. he loves your softer edges, and because his hands are big, he can grab a lot more of you. he also loves how you react to him touching you in these places- you’re sensitive there, and you shiver when he drags his fingers across you or grips you hard. your reaction plays a big part in favoriting those spots. (bonus: he loves your hands too, because they’re smaller than his and caress his face softly… and scratch up his back. we'll get to that later.)

c: cum (anything to do with cum)  

you actually tease him about this a lot, because he gets really eager sometimes and can’t hold it in. he’s developed a routine where he takes his time with you and draws your pleasure out as long as he can because he knows the second he starts actually fucking you, he won’t last long; and he is so much more interested in letting you be the one who receives, he gets off on stringing you out. also, it takes you a while to cum, so his pleasure-driven role is that much more important to him, because he will not stop until you do. and he loves when you finally cum way more than when he does. he likes to taste you, and make you taste yourself when he kisses you with coated lips. 

d: dirty secret

the night of the first day he met you, he had an insanely vivid wet dream about you. even having been with you intimately plenty of times now, he gets nervous to bring it up, because when you’re not around, he still draws on that dream to get off to. it's kind of his guilty pleasure. in it, you drag him into his office at work and let him eat you out on his desk, all over his files and papers. you were in a pleated schoolgirl skirt, and you kept it on for him to tug at. one day he’ll tell you (probably) and buy you a skirt, just so he can have the real thing. 

e: experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

the majority of his experience comes from all the porn he’s watched. despite his drive, he was always the one to take it slow with past girlfriends, and either they didn’t stick around long enough to wait for him, or when he did sleep with them, he didn’t have enough practice to make it how they wanted it. but he paid attention to how girls like to be touched and fantasized about being good at those parts. when he met you, you were even more inexperienced than him, so everything he did was like heaven to you, and he only gets better each time. he feels lucky to have you to learn with because you’re patient and you love everything he does, so he doesn’t feel pressure. 

f: favorite position

fox is somewhat old-fashioned. he loves missionary because it’s simple, and he can kiss you more that way, and it’s easy to be gentle or rough depending on what you both want. he also likes standing missionary for the same reason, particularly for times when you want him to be rougher. but the freaky part of him likes these because he wants to watch you surrender, to see all of you beneath him, powerless, as he brings you to climax. he wants to see your eyes haze over, how you struggle to speak while he pins you down. that way, you’re all his.

fox also really loves cowgirl, because he can still see all of you that way, but when you’re feeling particularly eager he likes letting you do the work. you’re still submissive even on top, because he needs to guide your hips and tell you to keep moving. he likes cowgirl even more when you ride him while he’s upright, like against the headboard or in a chair, because you bury your face in his neck as you work, and he loves being so close to you. plus, it took you little to no time to figure out exactly how to ride him right. and because he cums so fast most of the time, you usually ride him through his overstimulation, which puts him out of commission for the night. he can get obsessive about how good that one feels. 

g: goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

he can be, because he’s naturally got a goofy streak. but unless you’re feeling giggly or playful, he just falls into that mode of being soft and dominant, talking dirty, and trying to fluster you. 

h: hair (how well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he keeps it trim just for hygiene, but you expressed a lack of concern for that, especially since you don’t always keep yourself trim either. it can be tedious to always be clean-shaven (and he doesn’t mind if you’re a little hairy, just like you don’t care if he is.) but, he does not touch his chest hair, because you are vehement that he keeps it. 

i: intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

god, he is so intimate that it can leave you blushing for days after the fact. he does nothing but kiss and nip and lick, mouth and hands always on you; always whispering pretty things in your ears, dirty and gentle about how good you feel and smell and sound, about how pretty you look when he’s inside you. and innocent things, too. he tells you how pretty your tummy is, and your collarbones, every little part of your body gets admired. he tells you about how he loves your laugh and your smile, and how he's so lucky to have you all to himself. he takes every chance to make you feel cherished and important. he tells you how in love he is over and over like a mantra so that by the time he’s got you in the clouds, all you can think is he loves me, he loves me, he loves me… 

j: jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he jacks off fairly often, but only because he’s usually thinking of you. if you’re not around or he’s away on a case, he gets needy and takes matters into his own hands, because he can’t help his dirty mind. he’s done it everywhere- his office, the work bathroom, in just about every room in his house. and, though he’d probably never admit it to you, he likes to hold your clothes sometimes when he does, because the smell of your perfume drives him crazy. he always takes something of yours when he goes away, just in case.

k: kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay, he’s got a few, but mainly because they’re kinks based on how you act or what he wants for you. so we’ll start with the kinks surrounding your pleasure: 

obvious by now, praise. he loooves to praise. he’s crazy about you and how you make him feel, both emotionally and physically; he’s protective and loving, and he prizes you. he would make you cum just with words if he could. he adores pet names and anything he can call you, he will- princess, sweetheart, darling, honey, love, all of it. especially good girl, his personal favorite. he wants you to feel like the most special girl in the world because, to him, you are.

fox loves begging. he likes it for him, he likes to beg you for more, but he prefers when you beg. there’s something about watching you need him, and how your voice gets high-pitched and disgustingly lewd as you tell him what you want him to do. he loves being in control. 

daddy!subspace. there are times when fox gets a little too into it, and you fall into a subspace. he loves this, especially yours, because you mix his name up with daddy, and every freudian instinct in his brain fires like crazy. he loves when you call him daddy, because that opens the praise door nice and wide, and he loves helping you come down after, because you get so flushed and nervous and you’re simply adorable when you need help speaking and asking for what you want. 

now, fox’s personal kinks still have to do with you, but they're out of his own selfishness: 

belly bulges. it’s no surprise because he’s so possessive, but something inside him snaps than when he takes your hand and presses it against the pudge of your tummy, where you can feel his cock poking against your walls. he loves being just big enough to fill you, and he loves how you go cross-eyed every time he does this, too- it’s just as hot for you as it is for him. 

hands. he loves your hands and he wants them on him always, scratching him, marking his body with little red lines. they’re just small enough to make him feel big, and he loves your painted nails, too. he loves it when you pull on his shirt or his belt loops. he loves when you press them all over his face and chest because you don’t know what to do with them. he also loves to use his hands on you, to wrap softly around your neck and wrists, to pin your hips down, to push inside you; he has a penchant for sticking his thumbs in your mouth while he fucks you, too, because you always suck them like it’s your job. but there’s nothing like your hands on him. 

here’s the big one: your period. fox likes making you a pillow princess, but he’s a monster when it comes to your period. you were worried when he said he didn’t mind the blood, but that first time he ate you during your time of the month was otherworldly. he loves the extra sensitivity you have, because it takes little to nothing to get you screaming, and some dark part of him loves to smear your blood all across his mouth and his chin. he loves to kiss you with those lips, leaving bloody prints up your stomach and chest, all over your neck and mouth. he craves the mess, the taboo nature of it all, and he loves how it’s a way of gently defiling you; mixing your blood with his spit, with his cum, it makes you his and him yours. maybe there’s a screw loose on his part, but if cannibalism didn’t mean you’d die, he’d fucking eat you whole. he even likes the taste. like i said, obsessive- but it’s kind of hot, isn't it?

l: location (favorite places to do the do)

honestly, anywhere. just the fact that you want him is good enough. he’s gotten you off in restaurant bathrooms, and at family homes during holidays when you just needed him and couldn’t wait. but he is partial to his couch or his bed because he likes having you all to himself in his own space.

m: motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

acting stupid. he loves when you ask him to explain things to you, even if you understand on your own, because he likes teaching you; he also gets all hot and bothered when you pout or frown, or bat your eyelashes innocently, saying “can you start at the beginning?” or “can you go a little slower for me?”. because he knows you’re smart and the slight frustration of you acting like you’re not mixed with the need to pamper you gets him going like crazy.

saying his name. if you call him fox, or sometimes foxie, he’s just about ready to fall to his knees. nobody calls him fox, so to hear you say it isn’t just intimate and special, but it’s also so sexy. you say it so many ways, but when you want him, he’s never liked the sound of it more. 

his biggest motivation is your neediness. it seems that when you get going, you never want to stop. you want him to keep kissing, keep touching, keep licking, whatever it is you want more, and when you finish you want to start all over again because you get drunk on him- and that could keep fox going until he dies. he wants to give you everything you want, even if you never return the favor. he likes being yours to use. 

n: no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

fox does not like to degrade you, which might be odd for a guy who’s so controlling and protective, but it’s not in his nature. he loves you. he cherishes you. he couldn’t tell you you’re dirty, or you’re a slut, or any of the terms that might get other people off, because he doesn’t believe them. he thinks you’re perfect, an angel, so good, and he only wants to remind you of those. he wants you to feel loved. 

he also won’t hurt you. certain things he’ll do, like he’ll choke you or pin your wrists down, but he won’t be overly rough and he won’t leave bruises or make it hurt. you don’t fight back, so he doesn’t need to be anything other than assertive.

o: oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he prefers giving 100%. he likes it when you give him head because he likes seeing your pretty eyes look up at him, but he cums too fast to enjoy you doing it- plus, he can’t hear your noises when your mouth is full. he’d much rather just fuck you if he’s going to receive any pleasure. and god, is he good at it. 

p: pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s slow until he gets inside you. typically he likes to take his time on you, but when he starts fucking you, it starts to feel so good and you sound so pretty that he loses a little control and starts being rough. that part usually takes the shortest amount of time but it feels fantastic because he goes fast. 

q: quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if you two are going to have a quickie, it’s going to be because you’re extremely horny in a place where he can’t take his time, and he simply can’t resist relieving you. but he really likes to be alone with you and go slow, draw it out as long as he can, and take good care of you. he wants sex to be special, he doesn’t want you to ever feel like it’s just a means to an end. sex is about love for him, not just a way to get his fix.

r: risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

fox is willing to try anything, but you both are a bit vanilla, in that sense. you only need him to feel good, and he doesn’t want to restrain you from being able to move and moan and touch him. most of the experimenting is verbal- he likes to push how far he can tease, and how much he can say to get you there. the trend seems to be that the dirtier he talks, the more pleasure you feel, and he wants to max you out. 

s: stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he’s gotten better at lasting, but he can’t draw it out too long. he has a hard time stopping himself. but he can go a few rounds without getting tired or spending it all because of how eager he is to keep touching you, which is nice. that’s why he spends his time on you, because you can last longer, and he doesn’t need much. 

t: toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

fox doesn’t have any toys. he is more than okay with you having them because if he’s not around, he can’t expect you to wait for him if you really need a release, and sometimes your hands aren’t enough. if he’s away on a case, sometimes he’ll call at night and talk you through it over the phone, so he at least has a little part in it. but he likes to be the one and only thing you can get it from when he’s with you, and so do you. 

u: unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, he loves to tease. he loves to talk and talk and talk, so much that sometimes you have to ask him to shut up and go faster. he wants to see you completely flustered from just his words, and honestly, he can get you halfway there on conversation alone. he knows just what to say, and how to say it, and it can be torturous, but you love it. and physically he teases, too, because he favors stringing you out. it can feel unfair at times, but you like it too much to care.

v: volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he has two sides. most of the time, he’s quiet, low, gruff; he grunts, he moans, sometimes growls if he’s really feeling possessive. but when he’s close, it turns into the most adorable whining. right in your ear, too. he pants and stammers, and easily gets overwhelmed. it’s not too high-pitched, but it’s needy and uncontrollable, and it sounds so, so pretty. 

w: wild card (random headcanon) 

fox never kisses and tells. he doesn’t have many friends, but if anybody tries to inquire into his sex life, he won’t say a word. he wants to keep it all to himself, and he refuses to let anyone know a thing about you or how you act when you’re intimate with him. he respects your privacy and he doesn’t want anyone else thinking about you in that way. he also knows he has something special with you- sex with you is really emotional and involved for him, and he doesn’t want to just air out his love to other people. 

x: x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)  

(oh myyy, am i blushing.) a bit thick, and give or take maybe six, six and a half inches hard- no, give. he’s big. it’s veiny, especially when he’s overstimulated. and it’s curved up a bit at the tip- which is a pretty shade of pink, by the way. cute, just like him.

y: yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

anytime, any place. he always wants you. he can keep it under control of course- he gets through every day just fine. but he’s always thinking about you, and even when it’s innocent, he yearns to be with you and make you feel good. his dick loves you almost as much as his heart does. 

z: zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

for a guy who can’t sleep, fox gets pretty tired after, but he can stay up way longer than you can. usually, you need some aftercare, and you fall asleep shortly after, and he likes to stay awake to watch you sleep because your blush lasts and your skin is still hot. he loves to admire you for a while when you’re not watching. he also gets hungry after, so he usually stays up to eat something, and then he’ll crawl back into bed and pull your sleepy body in close. 

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this actually put me through hell to write because i want him so bad it’s driving me insane. hope you enjoyed, you little freaks. gonna go think about that period kink now. 

[littlxpxtal]

Puppy Grin

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

I'm alone, to beginning

Just sat right here with my puppy grin

For you and your sneaking on holidays, holidays

What fun to be had

When you've got me here to hit right back

Just some Polly parroting on and on and like you want

What's up with you?

It's never been like you to be back and begging

I've been no good at acting as I should

New Years Eve

My boots clacked against the pavement as I walked to Sabrina’s house, book bag filled to the brim with everything I needed to get ready for tonight. I knock on the large front door and am greeted by Sabrina, wrapped in a robe with her makeup half done and her hair up in a towel.

We greet each other and she leads me upstairs to her room, clothes sprawled out everywhere. I trip over a pair of heels and she profusely apologizes, throwing them across the room, landing on top of a pile of purses.

“Sorry I can’t fucking figure out what I wanna wear, which is preventing me from starting my eye makeup. Can you help?” I nod my head and start picking up dresses from her bed, inspecting each one.

“Ooo what about this one?” I ask, reaching back behind her bed. It was a black sparkly mini dress that she bought online a few months ago but never wore. I remember watching her buy it off her laptop in second period.

“Oh my GOD yes!” she screams, giving me a hug. I help her shove all of her clothes into her closet and start setting up my own little station by her mirror, applying my makeup.

“So who do you think you’re gonna kiss tonight?” I finally ask as I wrap a piece of hair around the hot wand. Sabrina peaks out from the bathroom and smirks.

“Haven’t decided.” she says before spraying hairspray on her head. “I’ve been hooking up with DJ Gabe for only like a week but there’s no strings attached.”

“What about Topper?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was the host of tonights New Years Eve outing.

“What about him?” she responds sweetly, admiring herself in the mirror.

“What do you mean what about him” I say with a laugh, finishing up with the last strand of hair that needed to be curled. I spritz some hair spray on it then run a comb through the curls to loosen them up.

“No idea what you’re talking about” she says with a grin on her face. She walks out of the room and I roll my eyes, grabbing my dress and begin to slip it on.

The description on the website I found it from was “Femme Clubwear Gold Sequin Sleeveless Halter Backless Mini Dress” I hadn’t tried it on since purchasing so I was praying it would fit fine. If it didn’t at least I knew Sabrina had plenty of extras to let me wear.

Sabrina’s hopes for the night was to go home with the DJ from my birthday party. I had no motives for the night except to get drunk.

As if she read my mind, she reentered the room with a champagne bottle and two flutes in her hand.

“God you look so good!” she exclaims. “I have to put mine on now.” she shoves the bottle and glasses into my hand and runs to her bathroom to change. I pour the glasses full and hand one out to her when she exits.

“You look perfect.” I compliment her.

“Dude I know.” she says, walking over to her mirror and taking a selfie. I giggle at her and pull out my phone. It was 9:33 and I had a text from Rafe.

What’re you wearing tonight?

Something sexy

Send me a picture

You’ll have to wait till you see it on my instagram

You’re such a tease … Give me the color at least

Gold

Wow that is sexy

What’s your plans for tonight

Slummin it with Sarah while she whines about not getting a New Years kiss with johnbee

:( Be nice to her

Only because you told me to.

Top’s throwin tonight we’re about to leave

Im jealous

You should be :p

Shut up

Make me

Dont ask for things you dont actually want

What if i do

“Who’re you texting?” she says, taking a sip of champagne trying to peak down at my phone.

“No one important.” I say, clicking my phone off.

“When are you gonna tell me whats going on between you and Rafe?”

“Dont know what you’re talking about.” I say, mimicking her response from my probing questions earlier.

“I see the way he looks at you. And the way he touches you. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And I mean anyone.” She pours herself another full glass and tops mine off.

“We’ve known each other for a while. I grew up around them so he probably just thinks of me like a sister or something.” I say shrugging.

“You and I both know he does not treat Sarah the same way he treats you so don’t even try that.” she says, with a serious face this time.

“Why does it matter Sab?” I ask, my face getting flustered. I let the topic go earlier about her and Top, but she wasn’t letting this one go.

“You guys would be cute.” she finally says after a few seconds of silence. I roll my eyes and walk over to my bag, pulling out my heels.

“That’s not what it is.” I huff.

“HA so something IS going on!”

I decide to give in. I knew Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone and it was getting hard to keep it a secret from her anymore.

“Fine. We slept together. A few times. But that’s it.”

“And you’re texting.”

“He’s in Bora Bora.”

“He’s on vacation .. and hes on his phone texting you.”

“Its barely a conversation, let alone an intelligent one. No substance. He’s just bored.” I say defensively, buckling the clip of my heels on and standing up.

“This is so hot.” she says with a huge smile across her face. “I can’t believe your fucking Rafe. Is he good?” she asks.

I down the flute of champagne, pouring myself another glass before answering.

“Yea it’s pretty good.” I state. I check my phone to see that Rafe hadn’t answered. I frown slightly and look back over to Sabrina.

“Ready to go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 11:45 and I was alone. A bottle of champagne in one hand and a joint in the other. I had stolen a few cigarettes from some random pack that was left unattended on the bar. Everyone was hammered, the music was too loud and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I stumbled down the hill of Topper’s backyard and made my way to the pier, walking closer to the edge by the water. I sit down on the edge and light both the joint and the cig.

The bass of the music rumbled down to the deck, vibrating the water below. I checked my phone again and saw that Rafe still hadn’t texted me back. I chugged a mouthful of champagne back and opened the spotify app. I was in the mood to listen to anything else other than house music.

The first song that plays on shuffle was Ribs. I laughed and turned the volume up, taking a drag from each of the lit sticks in my hands.

“What’re you doing out here?” The voice makes me practically jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard the footsteps due to my intoxication and music rumbling around me. I turn my head to see the dark figure walking closer. The light at the edge of the deck where I sat illuminated their face.

It was Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak out.

“Dad had some business he needed to get back to so I hitched a ride with him.”

I rose to my feet and he walked closer to me.

“How long have you been home? How long have you been here?” My heart was racing and I felt insecure, realizing at the sight he was looking at. Me, crossed and alone on new years, listening to Lorde.

“We landed around 10, I got here around 11. ’ve been lookin for you. “

“You could’ve texted me.”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he says with a smirk, stepping closer. He takes the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig. He then takes the joint out of my hand, taking a long drag. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.” he chuckles, and sits down next to my phone on the pier.

After a few seconds, I sit next to him, about a foot of space between us. I stare out into the water, finishing up the cig, passing it to him for the last hit it had. He takes a drag and bums it out on the deck. He passes me back the bottle and joint and cracks his knuckles. I take a few sips before breaking the silence.

“How could you leave Bora Bora a week early?”

“Didn’t want to be alone on New Years.”

“Like I am” I snort. He looks over to me. For the first time, his eyes are soft. His pupils aren’t dilated like they usually are when we’re at events like this, an effect from the white powder he snorts. I never see him sober anymore.

Hurricane by Halsey starts to play from my phone, filling the silence that had fallen between us again.

That’s exactly what he made me feel inside. Like there was a fucking storm brewing. I wanted to run and hide from the way he made me feel so I didn’t have to accept it. Like I had whiplash from his emotions. I never knew if he was going to say something nice or something mean. I never knew what mood he would be in. He was always lingering, I never knew when to expect to see him. Like tonight. He just appeared. He tore me open, left me devastated. And I liked it.

“Well now we’re here. Not alone anymore.” he finally says. A shiver runs up my spine and I hand him back the bottle. I had reached my limit for the night. The world felt like it was spinning, his surprise appearance leaving me in a haze. A dreamlike state. I wanted to pinch myself to check if this was even real or if I blacked out and this was a dream.

A countdown from the house rumbled through the air. Rafe put the bottle down and inched towards me. My breath hitched and I felt my hands start to shake. His hand reaches up to cup the side of my face and I look at him. His eyes still soft.

When the crowd chants Happy New Year, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Its the sweetest he’s ever kissed me. My shaky hands trail up and hold his neck, pressing myself up, deeper into the kiss. When we finally break free, he keeps his face close to mine.

“Happy New Year.” he whispers. Fireworks erupt from someones house across the water, lighting his face up with color.

“Take me home.”

Rafe led the way up the hill back to the Cameron estate, holding my hand and the other holding onto my heels that I had taken off.

When we walk inside the house is quiet and dark. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and we go upstairs. We turn left at the top of the stairs, instead of my usual right to Sarah’s room. I held my breath when walking in, it felt odd going into his room. I haven’t been inside of it since I was like 11.

It looked vaguely familiar from all those years ago, posters of his favorite artists and cars he liked, his desk with random papers piled on it. His closet door was closed, a few jackets hung from the back of the door. His floor was clean, which was a nice surprise from a teenage boy. His sheets were black and had a white knitted throw blanket on top.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached his arms out, pulling me onto his lap, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

“This dress is breathtaking.” he whispers. His hand trails from my cheek, fingers hovering over my bottom lip. I stay as still as possible, keeping eye contact with him. His thumb holds my chin, pulling my face closer to his.

“What do you want pretty girl?” he says, his breath lingers over my mouth and I hesitate for a second to answer.

“I want you.” I finally say, releasing the breath I had been holding. He presses his mouth against mine, I part mine open, letting his tongue circle around inside. I begin to unbutton his top, and unbuckle his pants. When they fall to the floor, I go down with them, on my knees in front of Rafe. He visibly gulps and I begin to palm his length on the outside of his boxers. They were Calvin Klein this time. I start to pepper kisses along his happy trail, teasing the band of his boxers, I can feel his abs flex, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

I finally pull his boxers off, his cock slapping up against his abdomen.

“Hold my hair for me?” I ask, battling my lashes up at him. He nods his head feverishly, swiping it all up into his grip in one go. I spit on the top of his tip and hear his breathing get ragged.

Taking him in slowly, I wrap my lips around his tip, letting my spit drop down his shaft, using my hand to spread the saliva around. I swirl my tongue around his tip and look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut.

I push myself down his length, trying to my hardest to make it down to his base without gagging. He bucks up into my mouth, making his tip hit the back of my throat. Tears brim my eyes and I feel drool dripping from the corners of my mouth. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his chest glistening against the warm light shining from the corner of the room.

Rafe’s hand pulls my hair up and he pushes back down, bobbing my head on his cock. I let him take over completely, and his hips start to thrust up into my mouth, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, he grunts loudly with each thrust.

“Fuck ‘M gonna cum.” he whsipers, a soft whine coming from his mouth as hes unable to keep his composure before filling my mouth with his cum, shooting straight down the back of my throat.

I swallow everything he released into my mouth, wiping the outside corners with the back of my hand. Rafe releases his grip on my hair and I sit up on my knees, batting my eyelashes up at him for my next direction.

“I’m sorry I might be out of commission for tonight.” he says sheepishly, pulling his boxers back on and scratching the back of his head.

“It’s alright. I owed you anyways.” I respond before standing up and walking around to pick up my shoes. From the corner of my eye I see Rafe frown, and rub his hands on his face.

“You headin out already?” he finally says after a few seconds of silence. I nod and walk back over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him, attempting to put my shoes on.

“You know, you can stay here if you’d like. Its dangerous out there.” I chuckle at this and look up to meet his eyes. They’re soft, and he has a vulnerable look on his face, something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“I dont know Rafe, we usually don’t do that.” I say, trying to respect the non existent boundaries of our relationship. We’ve never even talked about what this is, let alone what was allowed. He chews on his lip nervously, another few seconds of silence linger around the room.

“But I want you to stay.” I stop fumbling with my shoes when the words come out of his mouth. I internally debate on what this could mean. It was a line that seemed like it shouldn't be crossed, but looked so inviting to try.

“Can I borrow some clothes then?” I ask. He smiles and jumps off the bed, walking over to his dresser and tossing a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He walks to the ensuite bathroom, rummaging around in the cabinet and pulls out a toothbrush in its packaging.

“You can use my toothpaste. I dont got any makeup remover, but I have some face wash and lotion” he says into the room before starting to brush his own teeth. I slip off the dress I was wearing and place it onto his desk chair, placing the heels under his desk. I plug my phone into the closest outlet, and change into the clothes he provided. When Rafe steps out of the bathroom, I go in after him, using the toiletries he provided me to freshen up.

When I enter back into his bedroom, the last light that remains on is his bedside lamp. Rafe laid flat on his back, with his eyes closed. I crawl onto the bed, coming up beside him. He peaks one eye open and smiles, reaching his arms out to grab and pull me closer, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

I cuddle up against his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair, falling deeper into sleep with each breath. I wasn’t sure what possessed Rafe to fly home early, and invite me to stay the night at his house, but it worried me that this might mean we had to have some sort of discussion about what was happening. I had no experience with a situation like this before, and Sarah’s words about Rafe and his ill intentions haunted my thoughts.

I thought about what I wanted. I wasn’t actually sure to be honest. I’ve known Rafe forever, I felt comfortable around him and he knows me well. But I also consider that he’s still just a guy with needs and maybe just wants a friends with benefits situation. Which I would be alright with, as long as if he gets to mess around with other people, so do I.

Before I could work myself up anymore about the thought of me and Rafe, soft snores escaped his mouth as he fell asleep. I clutched the side of his body tighter and kisses his cheek, whispering goodnight before resting my head on his chest and falling asleep.

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[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Renaissance!Leon headcannons 🩷☁️

A/N: I could not stop thinking about this. Enjoy my word vomit! At least it's pink..

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: horrendously historically inaccurate, FLUFF, disgustingly sweet, absolutely filthy too, NFSW content 17+, cunnilingus, PiV, creampie, cum eating, my love for Leon is a warning in itself.

Word count: 1.2k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

🎀♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡⚜️♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡🎀

🎀♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡⚜️♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡🎀

Renaissance!Leon who makes sure you only get the best. Silks, velvet, expensive jewelry, the most beautiful gowns you could ever ask for and whatever else your heart yearns for. Luxurious bubble baths with rose petals, lavender oil and goat milk, while your chamber maid gently combs your hair.

Renaissance!Leon who treats you like an absolute goddess, he would do absolutely anything for you, no matter what. He feels like a madman sometimes with all the things he has done for you, and would do for you in the future.

Renaissance!Leon who loves taking off your corset. It's such a sweet and intimate moment, the feeling of the laces gliding over his fingers as he frees you from your prison. He places soft and loving kisses on every new inch of skin he exposes while unraveling the garment.

Renaissance!Leon who takes you to every event he can, solely to show you off. To show all those other noble bastards that you chose him, that you're his and he's yours. Not that they had a chance with you anyway.

Renaissance!Leon who has gotten into many fist fights and duels because a poor noble looked at you even a second too long. He's always victorious, of course, he knows his way around combat and rapiers.

Renaissance!Leon who was always a bit of a rebel, defying the orders of whoever, just because he could. His sense for freedom was one of the many things that made you fall for him.

Renaissance!Leon who loves to have little forbidden midnight rendezvous with you. Before he was officially courting you, you two used to sneak out, just you, the moonlit nights and all the love you held for each other.

Renaissance!Leon who has made love, not fucked, to you under the stars, just to show you much he truly cared for you.

Renaissance!Leon who loves to take you on outings, riding through a nice corner of nature on a sunny day, going on a walk through town and buying you new clothes and accessories, or having a cute picnic on the grounds of his huge estate.

Renaissance!Leon who loves waking up with you. The silky sheets draped around and over your figure while you're being illuminated by the morning sun makes you look ethereal in his eyes, like an Angel. He will watch you adoringly as your chest rises and falls with soft breaths while he litters gentle kisses over your skin.

Renaissance!Leon who loves the feeling of being buried underneath your many petticoats and skirts while he's taking you to heaven with his tongue, nestled between your thighs.

Renaissance!Leon who has fucked you over and on every surface in the house, he just can't help himself when you look so pretty all the time. He's still in the honeymoon phase and he will never leave it. He's addicted to you, his beautiful wife, and will forever shower you in his love and affection.

Renaissance!Leon who is so worked up from how you look, how you act, how you smell, that he just has to fuck you in the carriage on your way to a ball.

Renaissance!Leon who buries his face in your squished up tits, breathing in your intoxicating perfume. You have to stop him from sucking and biting marks on your supple skin, promising him he gets to do all of that later.

Renaissance!Leon who has you seated on his cock while he bucks his hips into you, the movement of the carriage making you bounce in his lap. He almost collapses at the sight, your face contorted in bliss while his entire lower half is covered by your new extravagant dress. One hand is on the back of his neck while your other is steadying yourself against the wall of the carriage as you subconsciously press him closer to your flush tits.

Renaissance!Leon who would love nothing more than to abandon the idea of going to this stupid ball just so he can hear you sing your symphonies of bliss for him until dawn.

Renaissance!Leon who loves the little gasps and whimpers that fall from your lips when he glides his tongue over your tits.

Renaissance!Leon who almost goes dumb when you clench around him, his head falling back and his breathing picking up. He damn near punched a hole in the carriage when you finally came undone around him, making him spill deep inside you not long after.

Renaissance!Leon who is so hot and bothered during the ball, because he just imagines how his cum drips out of you, staining the new silk skirt while you socialize like he just didn't fuck your brains out on the way here.

Renaissance!Leon who cannot concentrate on a single conversation which leads him to take you again in a little dark corner of the library, fucking you against one of the many bookshelves.

Renaissance!Leon who has the noble class wondering how you don't have 10 children yet with the way he's all over you constantly. The answer; Lemon tops.

Renaissance!Leon who basically rips your corset to shreds the second your back in your home. He's on his knees for you immediately, licking the trail of his cum off your thighs before he tastes you and fucks you with his tongue until you're light headed.

Renaissance!Leon who just loves you so fully, it makes your heart feel all fuzzy. Whether it's when you take a joined bath, his fingers gently caressing your skin or when he holds you close and whispers all kinds of sweet things in your ear.

Renaissance!Leon who assures you with absolute certainty that he loves every inch of you. Every stomach roll, every bit of chubbiness and fat that you believe to be in the wrong place (it isn't, and he will fuck those thoughts out of you if he has to), every stretch mark, every scar, every mole, all the body hair that you're unsure about, every little, fickle thing that is deemed imperfect, makes you even more perfect in his eyes.

Renaissance!Leon who cannot believe his luck sometimes. He doesn't know what he did to end up with you, this absolutely gorgeous woman who is so loving and kind and gentle with him. But he's so incredibly grateful each and every day, and he will continue to show you his appreciation.

Renaissance!Leon who loves fucking you, but there's nothing he loves more than to make love to you. Gentle, slow and sensual. Soft and sweet kisses, compliments and praises that make your heart (and pussy) flutter. He will pour his heart out to you while he's so deep inside of you, you can almost feel him in your throat.

Renaissance!Leon who has secretly dabbled in the arts of poetry, just for you. He's never been artistic but you, you made him feel like a lovesick fool, writing down the most clich�� lines, purely because you moved him in a way nobody else had.

Renaissance!Leon who would die for you, and will protect you until he can't anymore. He's so grateful for the life you've shown him; that he's worthy of that life. He wants nothing more than to grow old with you and then do it all over again in the next life.

Renaissance!Leon who loves you with no exception. He lives for you, you make him have a purpose. He loves you more than the sun could ever love the moon.

🎀♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡⚜️♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡🎀

I will definitely make this a whole fic at one point, but I'm working on so many things right at the moment, I needed to quench my thirst somehow until I go Jane Austen on this <3 ~

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

[brivinty]

I want your tongue twister!! ★

Featuring; Aizawa x Reader (Female)

TW; Nicknames like; Doll, Baby, pretty girl. Degradation, Praise, overstimulation, Publix sex, slight humiliation, Eating out, mirror sex, sugar daddy Aizawa. ★ Summary; Aizawa can’t stand shopping, but he likes the way you run his pockets ★

—

You were shopping with Shouta looking for something to wear for your little vacation with him next week. And he was tired of holding bags, Picking out lipstick shades, picking out eyeshadow shades. He was bored and just wanted to get home and have dinner. “Doll, I love you, but please, hurry so we could get home.” He said with a sigh watching you pick from two outfits that looked the same. “I’m almost done Baby, be a-little patient for me pretty please..?” You asked batting your long lashes at him with a pout. “20 more minutes, that’s it.” He said making you squeal happily. “Thank you, baby!!” You said before quickly giving him a peck on the lips.

“Which one?” You asked showing him a blue swimsuit and a green one. “I’ll buy you both I don’t mind,” Shouta said and you grinned widely looking for your size. “I’m gonna try it on, give me a second! Kay?” You asked looking at him as he rolled his eyes. “Mk.” He said taking a seat on a chair and placing the bags down next to him. He waited a couple of minutes, hoping you would walk out anytime soon to show him. As if on cue you walked out smiling cutely at him, you had on a two-piece Blue bikini set, and the top was strapless and had a gold circular ring in the middle of it showing off a little of your cleavage. On top of the bottoms was a pink beach skirt that was clear.

He looked up from his phone and his cock went hard instantly, he got up from his chair combing his hair back with his fingers taking a deep breath calming himself down, literally. “Do a spin for me, baby..” He said and you giggled before doing a slow spin showing off the swimsuit. He groaned eyeing all your curves. “Fuck.” he muttered, he loved the way it barely covered up your ass he could easily rip it off of you and fuck you right there, and he wanted to. He walked up to you pulling you towards him eyeing you down like you were his meal. “Do you know... what you do to me pretty girl?” he asked and you smiled. “Get you excited?” you asked batting your eyelashes at him and that was his last straw.

He grabbed the bags and tossed them in the changing room before pushing you in there himself. “Fuck, you keep me here for hours... Then decide to try on this.” He groaned pushing you up against the wall and kissing you roughly. “Your such a fucking slut.” he whispered in your ear making you whine while grinding up against him. “Sho... Your gonna make me dirty the swimsuit..” You muttered feeling him kiss up your neck. “Don't worry about it, it's coming off of you in a minute anyways.” He said while rubbing his hands up and down your sides before pulling down the panties and tossing them somewhere on the bench behind you two.

He then turned you around pressing you up against the mirror. “Look how much of a slut you are baby, you look so sexy don't you?” he asked with a smile before gripping your neck. “Stay quiet alright? You wouldn't want anyone else to hear how much of a slut you are... Getting fucked by a prohero.” he scoffed before placing his middle finger and ring finger in your mouth and grinning wide watching you suck them almost like it's an instinct. He pressed his fingers down on your tongue before taking them out and then slipping them into your wet cunt.

You let out an abrupt moan which he quickly cut off by squeezing your throat harder. He set a slow pace for a couple of seconds, pulling you closer to him to get a kiss, then pushing you back against the mirror and finger fucking you at what someone would say is an inhuman pace. “F-fuck..” you muttered quietly with tears sliding down your face. “What are you cryin’ for? We only just started,” he asked, not expecting an answer.

He smiled watching as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body shake. “S...Shouta! F-fuck!! I'm gonna cum! Let me cum please!“ you asked babbling out curses, and shaking. “Cum doll, cum all over my fingers…make a mess.” He said watching as you finally let go of your orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched. “Good girl….” Shouta said kissing your back. Yet, Shouta didn’t even let up still fucking his fingers into your tight, wet cunt. “W-wait! S’too much!” You squealed trying to move away from his fingers that were buried deep inside you.

“Stop trying to run away, could I run when you made me hold your bags?” He asked glaring at you through the mirror forcing you to look at him from there as well. You shook your head quickly, making him slap give a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp. “Use you fucking words, you knew how to use em’ earlier.” He said harshly. “N-no! No! you couldn’t run! m’sorry!” You replied quickly as his fingers started to move faster than before, and you thought that was Impossible. “Exactly so stay fucking still, and take it.” He said before getting back to work.

He fingered you roughly and not even a minute later you were shaking again. “Cumming! Cumming! Cumming!” You yelled out multiple times in his hand that was covering your mouth. And he was quick to remove his fingers from your cunt, you were confused until you saw him kneel your the mirror and start eating you out. You let out a loud moan, before slamming your hand over your mouth. But Shouta didn’t even care, he continued to enjoy his meal, which was you.

You then heard a quiet knock on your door and you shook from the shock quickly trying to move Shoutas head from your sopping pussy. “Everything ok in there? We heard a noise.” The worker asked worried for your safety. “M-yes! m’fine!! I just let out a squeal c-cause.. the dress is so c-cute!” You were stuttering over your words, your face red as day. Yet, Your husband was still nose deep Inside your cunt. “Oh ok! I’m glad you like it, let us know if you need any more help!” The worker said as you both heard her footsteps fade away.

You were about to scold him until you felt yourself come undone. You quickly slammed your hand over your mouth as your body shook again and your eyes went crossed. “T-thank you! Thank you so much!” you muttered shaking so much Shouta was worried you would fall.

—-

“Thank you for shopping here! Come again soon!”

“We surely will, thanks.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“By the way, when we get in the car you gotta help me fix my problem.”