#he tried to do his mind reading possession thing but the first thing he heard was her thinking how beautiful he was | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dyingswanpavlova · 17 days ago

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"Your girl" - Part 11 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: "I told you what would happen, if you ever tried to leave."

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, near-death, choking, not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Everything had happened pretty quickly.

Too fast for your brain to comprehend, actually. And a part of you almost didn’t mind, while you sat there, surrounded by darkness.

Some things are better not understood.

He had kept his tight grip around your shoulders, pressing you into his side possessively. You had always known he was the possessive type, the obsessive type even. And a part of you almost reveled in it. The part of you that was jealous, too – and a little possessive as well – would have felt delighted about these circumstances.

But the situation at hand was too tense. Too dangerous. You knew him.

At least a little.

You knew how angry he got over nothing. And this wasn’t nothing.

He kept speaking with the man in Korean, keeping his tone polite and light-hearted. You didn’t know what they were saying, since you knew no more than a few words in Korean. You had spent quite some time in the country, but you simply spoke English with everyone. You didn’t speak to many people anyway. Only your boss, a few clients and him.

They spoke and spoke. Obviously about something regarding the apartment. You could tell by the way they way gesturing and glancing around, pointing at one of the rain gutters. The man kept glancing your way every few seconds though. He tried not to make it too obvious, but you still felt his scrutinizing gaze, sizing you up, trying to understand what the hell was going on.

But not him. Aside from his tight grip on you, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You didn’t exist. But you knew, you were more than sure, he was thinking about you. Thinking about all the heinous things he would do to you once you were alone. And you already felt sick.

You took a slow breath, when you heard the Korean word for wife. A subtle nod, a playful smile, a teasing pinch to your cheek. Yeah, you were his wife. Of course.

You didn’t understand what exactly he was saying, but you understood that much. After he introduced you as his wife, you looked at him first, then back at the other man, an unsure smile on your lips. It looked strained and forced, but you did your best to make it look convincing.

But how could you be a good actress, when you were frozen in fear?

The man looked at you again, the tiniest frown on his face. Eventually he nodded and forced a smile himself, directed at him. He smiled back. Tightly. Politely. And you knew you were fucked.

The man turned around, ready to leave you in the fangs of the man who was, no doubt, going to gut you alive.

You hadn’t tried to escape. But you knew he wasn’t going to believe you.

You slowly looked up at him, fully expecting him to knock you out on the spot, but he did something else instead. He still had that deranged smile on his face, when he reached for the candlestick from the dresser. And you were immediately sure.

This was worse than anything he could do to you.

You watched in horror as he took a quick step forward and hit the man in the back of his head with the candlestick. He then let out a pained groan and fell to his knees immediately. Your eyes widened and you shrieked in horror.

“No, what are you doing?!”

Instead of answering, he pushed you back inside and dropped to his knees beside the man, hitting him again and again. Again and again.

Until his head was no more than a bloody mess.

Your eyes widened impossibly and you stumbled backwards, far enough for your back to hit the wall. You felt nauseous. You were sure you were going to…

You stumbled to your knees, doubled over and spat. It wasn’t much, after all you hadn’t eaten anything yet. All you had done was fight with him and have sex with him. No food.

And then that. You reached out a shaky hand to wipe your face dry, but you didn’t dare to look up. He continued beating the poor man, long after he wasn’t moving anymore. The poor, nice, elderly man, who did nothing but look out for you.

A hard shudder shook your body and you heard a desperate sob choke up in your throat. All you wanted was to run. Leave.

Now, you wanted to leave.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. You were still sleeping. Still dreaming. Having a nightmare. That must have been it.

But no, it was indeed real. You forced yourself to look up and what you saw made you feel even worse. The poor man, still and lifeless, beaten to a bloody pulp. Hovering above him, the curse of your existence.

His hair was a mess and his eyes wide and crazy. You could barely make out his hands under all the blood and his cheek was covered under a thick smear of the same blood.

For a short, serene moment he glanced down at the man at his feet, almost as if he was assessing him.

Almost like he was admiring a well-cherished piece of art.

He looked so peaceful.

Until he looked up and his gaze met yours. All the peace vanished and everything that stayed was cold and unfeeling. Resentful. Maybe even hateful.

You gasped and tried to back away, but the wall behind you wouldn’t let you. You felt trapped in your own body, trapped in his living room, trapped in a life that you didn’t deserve. That you didn’t want. Or did you?

When he got up and rushed towards you like an angry bull, all you could suddenly think about was how disappointing your life had been so far.

When you already had to die, how beautiful would it be to be able to think; at least I lived my life to the fullest.

You couldn’t think such a thing. No, on the contrary, your life had been a collection of haunting, painful moments.

But at least you met him.

You were surprised, when the thought hit you, but it did make sense, didn’t it?

Yes, he hurt you.

Yes, he abused you.

Yes, he treated you overall horrible.

But he did something else as well.

He cared for you. He kissed you. He made you feel so…

So…

My love.

You flinched when he yanked you up by your hair and to your feet.

“No, please!” You cried out in horror and desperation. You were shaking furiously and you instantly cowered down, trying to keep your face out of his bruising grip.

The expression he wore was beyond furious, but all you could really focus on was the blood.

If he killed a man like that, with his bare hands, not even taking a single second to think about it, why would he ever spare you?

“Please, I didn’t try to leave!” You called out in a frenzy. Your voice shook like crazy and so did your hands.

He growled and wrapped a hand around your throat, slamming you against the wall so hard that you instantly felt dizziness take over. You tried to stay present, stay clear, stay you as good as you could, but it was hard under all the shaking and yelling.

“Please!” You now sobbed. “Please, I swear to you, I would never-“

“Shut up!” He yelled furiously and slammed you against the wall even harder, causing you to wince and cry out in pain. “I told you what would happen, if you ever tried to leave.” He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on your throat. The ability to breathe left you the same instant and you desperately clawed at his wrist.

You were sure you had a concussion at least, but what was far worse, was the lack of air.

He would kill you, you suddenly realized. And this time, he really would.

You kept clawing and scratching at his skin desperately, gasping and crying, while no sounds actually left your lips. You slowly felt your life fade away. Everything faded away. All the colors.

All that was left was his face. His beautiful, handsome face, tinged with the blood of an innocent man.

At least you’d see his face, you suddenly thought. At least you’d die as…

“You’re not my girl.” He gritted out and tightened his grip even more. "You never were."

More tears welled up in your eyes, when you realized, there was not a thing in the world he could have said that would have hurt you more. And now it would be the last thing you would get to hear, right before you died?

How cruel. How incredibly cruel.

“Plea-“ You croaked out, while you slowly felt everything fade into a mixture of darkness and warm, white light.

Was this death? Would it be peaceful? Maybe you would prefer it over life. Maybe you would finally know real peace, real serenity. Maybe you would finally feel.

Your eyes drooped slowly and you knew, this was it.

Your life – or whatever you wanted to call it…your torment? Your punishment? It was finally over. Your time had come. This was it.

At least you died by his hand. You loved him, after all. And maybe you even forgave him.

You most definitely did. He was just complicated. You had always known it would happen this way. You just didn’t know it would happen so soon. You hoped you’d have more time with him.

Only an hour ago you had been curled up on his lap, feeling him so closely, being one with him.

And now it was him who took you out. A part of you was thankful it was him and not your mother. At least it was someone who felt something for you, other than resentment and blistering hate.

Suddenly you felt you had to tell him. Let him know. What was there left to lose? You were already half dead. You didn’t want to die while never having said it.

You had to say it. At least this once. At least to someone who kissed you, because he wanted to. Not because he’d lost a bet.

To someone who’d look at you with soft eyes and read your favorite books to you.

Someone who left you the choice of taking the pills or taking the risk.

Someone who had chosen you.

He wanted you. And you loved him.

You forced your eyes open and met his gaze. He looked equally as angry as he looked something else.

Suffering.

He looked like he was in pain. Horrible, physical pain.

Just say it. He can’t do anything more than kill you.

He could reject you. That would be worse than death. But you decided to be brave, at least this one time in your life. No numbness, no helplessness. Just be brave.

You somehow managed to part your lips. There was no air left in the world. You barely managed to keep your eyes open and your lungs burned like fire.

Your vision was blurred with tears and sweat and fear and peace.

And somehow you smiled.

It was so subtle, it was barely visible. But you knew you did. The most genuine smile in…forever.

“I love you.”

The words were as quiet as the wind on a day in early spring. When the first leaves and flowers bloom between March and April, the wind sings a quiet song and brings earth back to life.

That was exactly how your voice sounded. It couldn’t be heard. It could only be felt.

And he felt it.

His eyes widened in a way you hadn’t ever seen before. He looked so young and horrified. You almost pitied him.

Before you even realized what was going on, you suddenly felt air flood your lungs. He had removed his hand. It dropped to his side as he stared at you, speechless and dumbfounded.

The blood, it somehow suited him. Like it was a part of him.

That, and the craziness in his eyes, was the only thing that made it seem like he wasn’t entirely sweet and innocent.

He looked so terrified.

You doubled over and gasped for air hungrily. Your body reacted on instant, bringing you back to life. The warmth of the white light faded into nothingness and the colors in front of you became as bright as ever. You weren’t dead.

You clutched your throat with shaky fingers and slowly looked up through the veil that was your hair. You were still gasping and panting desperately, but he looked far worse.

He looked…he looked…

He looked so confused. So torn.

The anger was still there, simmering right beneath the surface and ready to bubble up and strangle you. But he couldn’t meet your gaze. Now it were his hands shaking as he reached out and ran them through his messy hair.

You had no time to realize where you even were and what was going on. He reached out a hand, ready to slap you, his teeth gritted and his lip quivering in rage.

Unfortunately you felt far too weak to cower this time, so you would just have to take the blow and continue on living.

No peace in sight. Not for you, anyway.

But he held himself back. It seemed to cost him all the strength he possessed, but he didn’t hit you this time. Instead he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you along, until you were back in your room. He rushed and pulled the door to the wardrobe open, pushing you inside roughly. You stumbled and fell to your knees with a hoarse grunt.

Maybe he’d shoot you, you suddenly thought.

Maybe he’d let you starve.

Maybe he didn’t have the strength to watch you suffer. Maybe he wanted to end you quickly.

You had no time to think about, because a moment later, he slammed the door shut and locked it.

And you finally got to breathe. You inhaled so desperately, so hungrily, dying to breathe real air. But there was none in sight. Not for you.

All there was, was a cramped wardrobe and a girl on the ground, fighting for her life.

You didn’t even hear your own sobs or feel the marks building on your neck.

All you heard in your head was his voice.

And the sound of his silent rejection.

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Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

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sweetlemontart · 2 years ago

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call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M]

summary ⇾ to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.

PAIRING // yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRE // explicit smut, established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut, sub!reader, jeonghan tries to be angry hard!dom but is actually a soft!dom cause he's too in love with mc, not much plot tbh mostly just smut

WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex and fingering (f receiving), degradation, choking, hair pulling, some spanking, creampie, slight dacryphilia, orgasm denial(?) ig, mentions of mc's past relationship with ex!seungcheol

WORD COUNT // 8.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE // me casually coming back on here and posting after almost 2 years of radio silence (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡ btw this is my very first svt fic hehe i started liking them like a month ago? watching going svt is the only thing keeping me sane during my second year of uni :') i love jeonghan and all his manipulating mind games & cheating ways, it's the most attractive thing to me !! might drop a wonwoo fic soon too bcs he's a cutie and his wip is coming along nicely. hope u guys have been doing good hehe do like and reblog if u enjoy reading this, song rec is blue foundation - eyes on fire (skeler remix)

masterlist link

Jeonghan isn't a particularly placid man. He's not excessively ill-tempered per se, but he is remarkably patient when it comes to you. You know how he is when he's angry, and you can't recall a single time when you've been on the receiving end of his wrath.

When something ticks him off, his eyes will darken and the heated stare he gives is shrouded beneath his lashes. When he is truly livid, he'll usually walk away from the situation, and there'll be no room for anyone to say something they'll end up regretting later on.

It's incredible, really, that he possesses the ability to bottle his anger up when it involves you. Anger is an emotion that can rarely be suppressed, but Jeonghan does it with remarkable ease.

On any other day, perhaps you'd appreciate his effort to control his anger, but not tonight. You've made a serious mistake, one that goes against the one thing Jeonghan had explicitly stated from the start of your relationship—keeping secrets is a recipe for a failed relationship, so if you have something important to say, just say it. Jeonghan is a great boyfriend. He gives you the freedom and privacy to do things you want to do, but this particular boundary was crystal clear, and you just crossed it.

It was your fault, really. You had broken up with Choi Seungcheol only a year prior to dating Jeonghan. The break-up had been a mutual agreement, and there were no hard feelings involved. Over time, you gradually drifted apart and had minimal to no contact until... well, two weeks ago.

It had been at a dinner party hosted by one of your acquaintances, someone who just happened to be Seungcheol's cousin. Jeonghan hadn't been able to accompany you, so you hadn't been able to introduce him to Seungcheol. Meeting Seungcheol again after more than a year hadn't been awkward. It was like meeting up with an old friend.

Tonight, however, the universe seems like it's conspiring against you. You had been preparing dinner when you heard a notification chime on your phone. You had haphazardly tossed your phone onto the living room couch before cooking, and your boyfriend just happened to be doing his Lego in the living room, so you called out to him to check the notification.

There was shuffling in the living room as he stood. When he strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he held your phone in one hand, eyes fixed on the screen. "Who's Choi Seungcheol and why is he asking to catch up over lunch?"

Fuck.

To be fair, you really weren't expecting Seungcheol to contact you after the dinner party. You had gone without contacting each other for more than a year, so what changed now? You had told him that you found someone new, so he definitely knew there was no possibility of rekindling your relationship. He was most likely trying to be friendly, but you understand why it would seem questionable to Jeonghan.

Contrary to what you expected, Jeonghan hadn't gotten angry at you. He simply listened to your explanation and nodded. He became quiet, a glazed look in his eyes that you couldn't interpret. Then, he sets your phone down on the kitchen counter and hummed. Oh, he was annoyed, that much was obvious.

"Okay, well, I trust you. Just... don't do it again," Jeonghan spoke with a slight frown, then walked out of the kitchen as though you hadn't just violated the one, single rule that you had both agreed to abide by.

Perhaps you've gone stupid, because as your boyfriend walked out of the kitchen, you found yourself trailing close behind him. A tinge of irritation slowly bubbled up in your chest as you watched him casually plop down onto the floor to continue doing the Lego set he had been doing since earlier.

"Is that it?" you asked him.

Jeonghan momentarily diverted his attention from his Lego to meet your gaze. He blinked a few times. "I'm sorry?"

"You just... you're not even getting angry at me?"

"Um, am I supposed to be angry at you?"

You were taken aback by his response because it suddenly occurred to you just how silly you sounded. Did you really want him to get angry at you?

"Yes?"

Jeonghan nodded wordlessly, seemingly mulling over something in his head.

"I made a mistake, you should be mad at me."

There was a pregnant pause before he chuckled, but there was nothing humorous about it. If anything, it sounded a little... sinister. "You want me to get mad at you, baby? Want me to show you how I'm really feeling?"

You swallowed. Suddenly, you felt small under the weight of his unyielding stare. You shouldn't have nodded, shouldn't have ever said anything about it at all, because now, Jeonghan has you on the bed, doing the one thing you had practically begged him to do—take his anger out on you.

"G-God, please..." You're not sure what it is you're begging for. It's hard to think straight when Jeonghan is between your legs, lapping at your dripping cunt with his tongue. He had warned you not to touch him, but after several attempts of burying your fingers into his silky hair, he decided to take matters into his own hand, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to your heaving chest.

Your fingers continuously curl and uncurl against your chest, desperately trying to grab at something to ground yourself. The pleasure coursing through you makes your head spin, your mouth feeling as dry as cotton as you continue to chant your boyfriend's name.

Jeonghan hums against you, mouth suckling at your swollen bundle of nerves. Your jaw drops open at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as you let a moan slip past your lips. He repeats the cycle a few more times—kissing, sucking, licking—until you feel the familiar knot tightening in your stomach.

To your disappointment, Jeonghan withdraws his mouth from you but is quick to replace it with his fingers. He's familiar with your body by now, knowing what gives you the most pleasure and which spots to press to have you coming undone in minutes.

He's rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers ghosting over your hole, not dipping in, only lingering there to serve as a reminder of the control he has over you. "Keep your hands there," he says, squeezing at your wrists once as a warning. Then he lets go of your hands and settles his palm on the inside of your thigh, spreading you open further.

"Jeonghan..." you whimper, legs beginning to shake as the telltale sign of your climax begins to show.

"I need you to cum on my fingers once before you can have my cock," he says, voice coming out huskier than normal.

Straining your neck, you peer down at your boyfriend with half-lidded eyes, only to feel a rush of heat in your stomach when you see that he's already looking at you. In the dim light of your bedside lamp, you can just make out his blown-out pupils, almost obscured beneath the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. His lips curl up into a wicked smirk, and your focus shifts from his eyes to the way his mouth glistens with your wetness. It feels so shameful, but the sight only makes you drip even more.

"My angel wants me to be angry at her, right?" he asks you, pressing down harder on your clit, which makes you yelp with surprise, head dropping back onto your pillow.

"Don't stop, please, I'm cumming... F-Fuck!" It's all you manage to say as you begin to writhe under Jeonghan's hold.

He clicks his teeth in disapproval when you shift your hands from your chest to your sides, fingers tightly grabbing at the bedsheet, twisting at it recklessly. He lets it slide, however, knowing you're trying your best not to touch him like he knows you so desperately want to.

His ring finger dips into your hole just slightly, and the stretch isn't much, but it makes you keen anyway, breath catching in your throat as he plunges it deeper and deeper until it reaches his knuckle. He doesn't move it after that, keeping it buried there as he continues to play with your clit.

"I've barely even started and you're already like this," he says in a mocking tone, teasingly biting down at your plush thigh. "Go ahead and cum for me, then. Show me how much you want my cock, baby..."

Your body caves to his words. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you cum with a loud moan that you don't even attempt to hide. Without warning, Jeonghan promptly replaces his thumb on your clit with his mouth, sucking hard, prolonging the pleasure. He doesn't mind the way your whole body is trembling or the way your thighs try to snap shut.

"H-Hannie, fuck... fuck..."

The way you're mumbling out incoherent words only makes the blood rush down to his cock. He's painfully hard in his pants, wanting nothing more than to sink himself right into your tight pussy. It's getting increasingly difficult to think with his head than his dick. His self-restraint is starting to fray at the edge.

"That's it, baby..." he mumbles, removing his ring finger from inside you, grinning when your hole tries to suck the digit back in.

With his index and middle finger, Jeonghan spreads your pussy lips apart, ignoring your whine of protest as he continues to stare at your soaked cunt. It's humiliating to be so exposed and vulnerable like this, but why do you enjoy it so much?

Jeonghan snickers, warm breath hitting your bare pussy. "Baby, I wish you could see yourself right now. Your cute pussy is clenching around nothing."

With a sheepish whine, you splay your hands over your face, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Hannie..." you grumble, hoping he would show you some compassion and stop teasing. But of course, Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't just stop there. You should know better by now that there is no one in the world more cunning and sly than your boyfriend.

Jeonghan pushes himself up into a sitting position, sighing when he sees the way you've covered your face. He doesn't like it when you hide from him but surprisingly doesn't say anything about it.

When you feel him shift on the bed, your curiosity gets the best of you. Peering cautiously through the gaps of your fingers, you're left dumbfounded at the sight of your boyfriend tugging his shirt over his head. The wisps of his dark hair that had been snagged by the shirt are left askew, and the view would be endearing if it wasn't for the devious look in his eyes as he looks at you.

Then he stands, and for a second, you're afraid he might leave you there. It wouldn't be unlike Jeonghan to suddenly leave. He's unpredictable, always trying to be a step ahead of everyone. This time, however, all he does is stand by the end of the bed, eyes roaming over your exposed figure as if trying to determine the next course of action that will deliver the most favourable outcome for him. Damn him and his mind games.

With slow movement, you press your legs together, concealing your most intimate part from your boyfriend. He shakes his head in disapproval, but you make no move to rectify your mistake. It's impossible not to hide from him when he's looking down at you as though he wants to devour you inch by inch—like a lion ogling at a wounded deer.

Very slowly, he begins to undo the string of his sweatpants. It aggravates you to see how composed he is, movements unhurried as if he doesn't see just how much you need him. Surely he notices how your eyes rove over his bare torso, committing to memory every little detail about his body even if you've seen it myriad times before. He's not particularly muscular; he's more lean than anything, elegant, and refined in all the right places. It only makes the waiting feel even more agonising.

"Don't tease, Hannie, please," you plead, your pulse quickening when he finally steps out of his pants.

"Don't tease? Aw, princess, you were the one getting all friendly with your ex, and now you want me to treat you like a good girl who hasn't been whoring around behind my back?" His tone is condescending, sending a surge of electricity up your spine.

You're suddenly reminded of what landed you in the current predicament in the first place. You want to explain and justify yourself, but you're rendered speechless when Jeonghan sweeps a hand down over his torso, eventually wrapping around his hard cock. He tugs once, twice, hissing slightly at the much-needed contact, smearing pre-cum all over the tip and shaft, the ring on his pinky glinting in the low light.

Sitting upright, you're about to speak and deny his previous statement, but the words die down in your throat when he suddenly climbs onto the bed, slowly crawling closer to you.

You squeak in surprise when he grabs at one of your legs, tugging you down just slightly so that your face is parallel to his. Then, he settles himself between your legs, cock pressed against your stomach. He has you right where he wants you.

Jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth, tangling it with yours. You sigh into his mouth, tasting the remnants of your wetness on his tongue and lips. It's a pleasant mix of bitter and sweet, a combination that makes you feel dazed despite the fact that he hasn't done anything to you yet.

Jeonghan sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, relishing the way you mewl. He starts pressing wet kisses onto your jaw, trailing down to your neck and collarbone. "You smell so good, pretty," he mumbles against your skin, licking at your sternum.

Reaching a hand down, you grab at his hard cock, wanting nothing more than for him to slip himself inside. You're sure you're dripping down onto the bedsheet by now. Jeonghan, however, has other plans. You only get to pump him twice before he slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist to the bed. "Don't act like such an impatient whore..."

Your whine of protest trails out into a moan when Jeonghan suddenly wraps his mouth around your nipple. His mouth is hot against the sensitive bud, and the light grazes of his teeth against it makes you arch your back.

Jeonghan's eyes suddenly meet yours, hooded with lust. He's suckling so noisily, hips grinding into yours. It's so obscene—the way he's looking at you, the sounds he's making, the way his balls press down on your clit whenever he grinds into you. Feeling overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensory, you turn your head to the side, burying your face into your pillow as you huff out a shaky breath.

You should've known Jeonghan wouldn't be too pleased with this. He withdraws his mouth from your chest with a lewd pop. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of grabbing at your chin. His grip is harsh, but not enough to hurt. With a sharp yank, he forces you to face forward, where you have no other choice than to meet his eyes.

He clicks his tongue disappointedly, and your eyes flick down to his lips, red and puffy from sucking. This doesn't help your case at all, because Jeonghan immediately starts vigorously shaking your face left and right, compelling you to look back into his eyes. Your head feels dizzy, but you don't miss the look in his eyes. There's irritation swirling in them now, imbued with desire and the hunger to ravage your body until you're left a broken, muddled mess. It makes you shudder, legs squeezing tight on each side of his hips.

"You know better than to hide from me, right?" His thumb caresses the skin of your jaw. The touch is so soft, a stark contrast to the way he's glaring down at you. When you take a little too long to answer, Jeonghan taps at your cheek a few times, hard enough for you to feel the sting.

"Y-Yes..."

He coos, stroking your stinging cheek. "Mhm, but you're not behaving very well tonight, are you?"

"I've been good, Hannie," you assert, trying to maintain your composed front even though you desperately need him to fill you to the brim. You're aching, and you need his cock to soothe the pain. Noticing his sceptical gaze, you decide to reword your sentence. "I'm sorry. I'll be good, I promise."

Jeonghan is thinking about something, silently plotting something in his head. Fuck, you're screwed now. The intensity of his gaze tells you he's about to do something that's unlikely to be in your favour.

"You want to hide from me that bad, hm?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No, Hannie, I want you to see me."

Jeonghan scowls, pecking your lips once before sitting up on his knees. "On your stomach."

You frown, dread washing over you. He knows how much you loathe that position. "Jeonghan, please, no..."

Jeonghan's face remains impassive. "I won't ask you twice."

"You know I take a long time to cum when I can't see your face," you grumble, feeling your stomach churn, chest tightening.

"Who said you were cumming tonight?"

The question sends you into a frenzy. "Please, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, please..."

When Jeonghan has his mind set on something, no amount of begging or grovelling will sway him. He's glowering at you, and three seconds pass before you relent. Having his cock inside you is better than nothing at all.

"There you go, baby," he says when you finally shift onto your stomach. He's quick to straddle your thighs. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"

You say nothing, feeling sulky now that you can't look at your boyfriend's pretty face anymore. "Angh!" you yelp when you feel a spank on your ass. Jeonghan does it a few more times, rubbing the tender skin between each hit. The touch should be soothing, but it only makes your ass burn even more, raw from his smacking.

Gritting your teeth from the tantalizing sting, you bite back an apology, knowing it's probably the last thing Jeonghan wants from you. Saying sorry would only make it worst for you. He's testing you, pushing the boundaries to see how much you can endure before you break and plead for some semblance of his kindness. The longer you hold out, the better.

You feel him dip his head down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your smell. The fragrance of your perfume and natural scent is exhilarating. He wants to stay there and breathe you in all day, fill his lungs with your sweet scent so that he can still smell you even when you're miles away from him.

A groan rumbles in his chest, you can feel it on your upper back, can hear it right beside your ear. He starts pressing kisses down your shoulder blade, digging his teeth into the smooth flesh.

"Keep your head down," he warns you, as though he knows about your urge to turn and look at him. He sits up, his knees on each side of your legs, willowy fingers kneading your hips.

You whine into your pillow, eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Your whole body is trembling, yearning to see him, touch him, tug on the silken strands of his dark hair. God, just the thought of it has slick gushing out of your throbbing hole.

"I'll be good," you promise him, voice coming out breathy, desperation bleeding through. "Just, please..." you beg, quietly moaning when you feel Jeonghan's hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs just enough for him to comfortably press the tip of his leaking cock onto your cunt.

You hear him chuckle when your whole body stiffens, anticipating the moment when he'll finally fuck you full. He sighs to himself, looking at the way your pussy is all coated in your wetness, slick gushing out onto his cockhead as he brushes it over your clit.

"Hmm, but you only behave after you're caught doing something bad, isn't that right?"

You don't answer, unsure whether you should defend yourself or agree with his question. You gasp when you feel him slide in just slightly, stretching you out, tip prodding at your gummy walls just enough to make you feel the agonizing stretch. "More, Hannie," you mutter, practically drooling at the prospect that it would only take a roll of his hips for him to fill you up.

However, the delicious stretch never comes, and you're left there feeling stupid, panting with only his tip buried inside of you. You whine once, lifting your head to look back at him. Big mistake. You've barely craned your neck before you feel his hand pushing down onto the crown of your head, fingers yanking at your mussed-up hair, shoving the side of your face back into the pillow.

With a growl, Jeonghan leans down to press his lips against your ear. "What's with you today, princess? You've always been such a good girl for me, but you keep pushing my fucking buttons today. You want me angry, hm? Is that what you want?"

His crude words shouldn't make you feel the way you do, but when he speaks, his hot breath against your ear makes your eyes roll back, pussy clenching around the tip of his cock, desperate to suck more of him in. You respond with a quiet apology, voice quivering from the arousal wracking through your body. You crave him, ache for him like a desert thirsts for rain. "Need you..."

Then, as if he senses your distress, he decides to show you some mercy. Little by little, he slides into you, slipping in easily, aided by the wetness seeping out of your pulsating hole. He ignores the way you call out his name with a shattered gasp, slowly pressing forward until his hips are flush against your ass and his cock is snug in your heat, buried to the hilt.

You can feel Jeonghan's groan rumbling in his chest, and the noise makes your pussy clamp down on him tighter. You're fisting at the bedsheet, feeling relieved, desperate, and frantic all at the same time. God, why isn't he moving? You want him to fuck you into the bed, want him to ruin you, use you until you can barely remember your name.

Perhaps this is Jeonghan's way of taking his anger out on you—tormenting you until you're reduced to nothing but a sputtering, drooling wreck. Maybe he wants to see you plead, beg. Or maybe, he wants you to curse him out, chastise him, berate him for putting you through this torture.

Afraid of further repercussions, you decide to patiently wait, clenching your teeth to bite back from begging him to move. Seconds seem to drag on endlessly, and you resort to imagining the sight you'd be met with if you were to turn around. Would you see Jeonghan's face contorted into a mixture of frustration and hunger? Would his eyes be crazed and heated? Maybe he's enjoying the excruciating wait, peering down at you with an amused grin, tongue peeking out to rest against his lower lip just slightly. You're dying to know.

Then, as if he is satisfied with your unwavering determination to remain still for him, he loosens his hold on your hair, gently brushing the dishevelled strands back. His thumb extends out to stroke at the tendrils of baby hair stuck to your temple, damp with perspiration. "You want me to move, baby?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you have half a mind to consider saying yes, but a nagging feeling tells you it might be a trick question. Jeonghan must've sensed your apprehension because you hear him chuckle.

Without any warning, he draws his hips back, pulling out until only his tip remains inside before plunging in again. Your jaw slackens into a silent moan. The lack of stimulation has made your body feel so attuned to his, sensitive to every little movement. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, feel his breath on your neck, and the ridges of the veins on his cock against your pussy.

"It's not a trick question, you know?"

You're quick to nod your head as best as you can. "Please move," you breathe out, feeling like you're on the verge of just turning around and demanding him to fuck you the way you both need it.

His hand grapples onto the sheets by your head, delivering another thrust into your cunt. His movement is languid, as though he wants to take his time. It's driving you crazy, just how collected he seems compared to you. Your body feels as though it's burning, lit ablaze by his kisses, touches, and every single point of contact between his skin and yours.

Your eyes zero in on his hand propped up on the bed, right in front of your eyes, honing in on the way the sheets bunch between his fingers and the way his ring sits snug on his pinky. Subconsciously, you reach out for it, fingertips digging into his knuckles, nails pinching into the skin when he thrusts again. The movement is more rushed this time, jostling you up on the bed just a little, which makes you gasp.

He removes your hand from him, hurriedly pressing your palm into the bed, cradling your hand from behind, his fingers sliding through the spaces of yours to intertwine them. The gesture feels so intimate, and it leaves you feeling disoriented. "Fuck, Hannie, so good..."

Jeonghan chuckles, peppering kisses all over your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake wherever his lips meet your skin. "I've barely even started, baby."

Jeonghan pushes himself up onto his knees, letting go of your hand to place both his hands on your hips. He doesn't miss the way you groan at the loss of his warmth on your back, but he dismisses it. He pushes in once, twice, his gaze fixed on the point where his cock keeps appearing and disappearing into your drenched cunt.

You barely register it when Jeonghan hauls you up onto your hands and knees, lost in the thought of him, only comprehending the situation when he once again slides into your aching pussy. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat, elbows buckling, almost sending your face flopping back into your pillow.

Jeonghan doesn't feel the need to take it slow anymore. His thrusts are no longer feeble, and his pace is steady. The sound of skin meeting skin fills his ears, mixed with your broken moans. It sounds like an obscene euphony, a harmony that makes his head feel foggy and hazed.

"Fuck, pretty, you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jeonghan grunts, sneaking a glance down, only for his pace to falter when he sees the way your slick is coating your inner thighs. The view is so lewd, salacious, dirty, and messy. "My messy fucking baby," he mumbles, picking up his speed, eyes fluttering when he feels your walls tightening around him.

"Jeonghan... Jeonghan..." You're chanting his name like a mantra, eyes pinched close, savouring the feeling of being pumped full.

"Yeah... that's my name, baby," Jeonghan responds, restrain starting to slip, evident in the way his voice cracks just slightly at the last syllable. "Can you cum like this?"

You promptly shake your head. "N-No." It's not entirely a lie. You hate relying on your imagination like this. You want to be able to touch him, hold him, want to be able to look into his eyes as you let your orgasm crash down on you. You want to see the way his hair frames his pretty face, want to see his flushed cheeks and the sweat gathering at the dips of his collarbones. You want to see him, or you think you'll die on the spot.

"Good. Don't cum, princess."

"W-What?" you squeak out.

Jeonghan snorts out a laugh. "I told you before—you're not cumming tonight."

You gulp, stooping down low onto your elbow, too weak to support yourself up on your hands. "I wanna cum, H-Hannie... Please let me..."

Jeonghan only snickers, ramming into you harder, letting out a content sigh when your moans seem to escalate, becoming more wanton and desperate. You're squeezing him so tight, white ring of your milky slick forming a ring at the base of his cock, causing him to groan out loud. He'd like to think that he's in full control, but everything about you is making him feel delirious—your smell, your pussy, your moans.

Ever the competitive man, Jeonghan feels like he's losing this game. He's supposed to be angry at you, but why does it feel like you have the upper hand? Feeling irked by this sudden revelation, he stretches a hand out, wrapping it around your neck. He hears the surprised gasp you let out when he pulls you upright into his chest.

Your hands immediately fly up to circle around his wrist, taken aback by the sudden change of positions. His other arm slithers around your waist, keeping you balanced as he continues to fuck you from behind. "Fuck, Hannie, your cock feels so good," you can't help but murmur, arching your hips just slightly so he can reach deeper into you.

He scoffs, burying his face into the crook of your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the spot underneath your ear, strands of his hair tickling your skin. As he expects, your head lolls the other way, granting him better access to your neck. "Of course it feels good, baby. I've fucked you so many times your pussy is used to me now. Wouldn't be able to take another cock without thinking of mine, would you? Wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't my cock, right?"

His fingers dig into the sides of your neck, constricting just enough for you to gradually feel the drowsiness from the lack of air. It's intoxicating, being able to surrender yourself to another person completely, knowing they have you in the palm of their hand.

You're too preoccupied with the feeling of his hand around your throat to realise his other hand sneaking down to settle between your legs, middle and ring fingers starting to draw gentle circles into your bundle of nerves. It's almost too much—the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way his lips skim over your neck, the chokehold he has on you, the breathy groans he murmurs against your skin.

"Unghh! F-Fuck, Jeonghan, 'm gonna cum..."

He chuckles, delighted at the turn of events. He doesn't stop the motion of his fingers against your clit and instead presses down harder, making your head roll back onto his shoulder, a throaty moan spilling past your lips into the open air.

"Oh?" he says in a sardonic tone. "You said you couldn't cum like this. Or were you just lying to me, baby?" His mocking shouldn't have such power over you, but it makes your heart pound with the intensity of a raging storm.

"N-No, it's because you're... your fingers—"

"Hmm, what's with my fingers, angel?"

The fingers on your clit start moving faster, motions rushed and relentless, bringing you to the verge of your climax quicker than you would ever anticipate. The sudden shift in speed makes you cry out in shock, eyes pinching shut. You're quick to bring a hand down to his wrist, tugging, trying to yank his hand away from between your legs.

He doesn't relent, slapping your hand away and briefly resuming his assault on your aching bud. "Don't try to stop me now. I thought you wanted to cum."

"You told me not to," you rush out, heat starting to swell in your stomach, ready to burst.

Jeonghan lets out a chortle. "That's right, baby. Ah, you listen so well..." Stretching his tongue out, he licks a broad path up your neck, stopping right underneath your jaw, where he proceeds to suck the skin. He wants to mark you, claim you. What better way than to bruise your pretty skin, right? To show everyone only a sliver of what goes on between you and him behind closed doors.

"Oh, god, let me cum, please, please..." You have no other option than to resort to begging. Cumming without his consent would be catastrophic now. Not being able to see his face is punishment already to you, you're terrified of just how far he'd be willing to go to take his anger out on you.

Jeonghan presses the tip of his nose into the plushness of your cheek, humming as though he's weighing his options. "I don't think so, princess," he mumbles, the snap of his hips not once faltering, maintaining its hasty rhythm. "I don't think you deserve to cum."

You don't have much time left. Simple begging won't work now. You're wracking your brain for anything, anything. Forcing him to cum before you would be close to impossible, noting just how composed he seems. He's breathing hard, gravelly groans bubbling up in his chest, but he's nowhere near how wrecked you are.

Through your haze, you suddenly grow aware of the hand still draped over your throat. He's not pressing or squeezing, simply just letting his hand rest there as a means to keep you balanced on your knees as he fucks you open from behind.

Sheer desperation makes you reach both hands up to claw at the hand on your neck. You're clinging onto the last threads of your rationality, knowing if Jeonghan puts even the slightest amount of pressure on his grip, all your sanity will go out the window, and you'd be hurled face-first into your much-awaited orgasm. You're playing with fire, you know it, but you only have one chance.

"Unghh, f-fuck, please, choke me... I've been a bad girl, H-Hannie, choke me as punishment, and let me cum..."

You feel his mouth stretch into a grin against your cheek. Your walls are clenching around him so tight, pulsing, so hot and tight. He knows he has won. It's this notion of winning that has him thinking about giving in, but one look at your face has him reeling back his words. The furrow of your eyebrows, your slack jaw, your scarlet cheeks... it makes him feel sadistic. You wanted him to be angry at you anyway, what boyfriend would he be if he didn't give you any reason to make him angry?

Then, Jeonghan watches. He tightens the hand around your neck, and continues his assault on your clit with the other, all while he continues to ram his dick into you again and again. You start to babble out incoherent words, and that's when he finally strikes.

"Don't cum."

Those are the two simple words that send you dissolving into a whirl of pleasure and euphoria. Your ears feel like they're ringing as pure, white heat consumes you whole, moaning out your boyfriend's name repeatedly as you go rigid in his embrace. It's like shockwaves, rippling through you so forcibly you have no choice but to succumb to the raging tides, riding it out until you can fully apprehend the situation again.

Gradually, you begin to notice the way Jeonghan holds you tight to him, how both his hands wrap around your waist to keep your body pressed to his, how his hips have stilled, hard cock still sheathed in your throbbing heat. He's pressing soft kisses onto your shoulder, coaxing you down from your high.

Jeonghan lets your tired figure collapse onto the bed before sitting back and propping himself up on his heels. The sight is so endearing to him—you, still huffing breathlessly, hushed whines slipping past your lips at every exhale, so spent after only one orgasm. Jeonghan feels like it's so perverse of him to reach a hand down to stroke at his still-hard cock, touching himself to the sight of your curled figure. From this angle, he can see the mess between your thighs, remnants of your juices and his pre-cum smeared all over your puffy pussy lips. Oh, he definitely isn't done with you just yet.

He hears you mumble his name groggily. Jeonghan's not sure whether you're calling out to him or just saying meaningless things in your post-orgasm haze. He doesn't waste time thinking, though, immediately swooping down to cage you between his arms, kissing along your hairline. "Tired already?"

Your eyes flutter open, looking up at your boyfriend who hovers above you with a smirk that makes your heart skip a beat. Fuck, you're really in for it.

He coos at you, but it sounds sarcastic. "I told you to hold it, didn't I?"

You puff out a breath, shifting onto your back, obediently parting your legs so Jeonghan can slot himself in between them. "But your fingers—"

"Good girls don't talk back, do they, pretty?"

"N-No..."

He nods, eyes wandering downward, not trying to hide the way they zero in on your breasts. "No, they don't... But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asks, lowering himself to blow cool air onto your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you. Without any warning, he latches his mouth onto the skin at the top of your breast, sucking earnestly, not letting up until he's finally satisfied with the reddening of the skin there. He always loved to see the reddish hue of your hickeys turn into delicate shades of blue and purple as they heal.

"I can be your good girl..."

"No, no, baby, you're a lying whore who doesn't do as they're told."

"Hannie, I asked you so many times—"

Jeonghan doesn't give you a chance to object, immediately slanting his lips over yours. He pushes his tongue past your spit-coated lips, exploring every crevice of your mouth, letting his tongue tangle with yours lasciviously. He feels you sigh against his mouth, hands coming up to curl around the nape of his neck.

Reaching a hand down, he positions his cock over your entrance, plunging himself into your sopping pussy without any notice. It's easy to sink back into you—you're still sopping wet and stretched open from before.

Shocked, you break away from the kiss to let out a sharp cry, nails digging into his shoulders, threatening to break the skin there. "God, J-Jeonghan!"

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a rhythm that makes you arch your chest, pebbled nipples brushing against his front. You finally have the chance to look at him, really look at him. Fuck, you wouldn't trade this sight for anything else. He's the most beautiful thing you've ever had the privilege of seeing.

He notices your lovestruck eyes, cock twitching inside you as he pounds into you. He thinks you're so pretty, all splayed out underneath him, so pliant, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. Your hair fans out over the pillow under your head, thin tendrils of it clinging onto your dewy temple and neck. He understands why you love to see his face so much whenever you fuck—he thinks he could cum earlier than anticipated if you keep looking at him with that infatuated gaze.

"Fuck, baby..." he curses, and it's the first time you've seen him lose his composure. "Fuck, you're such a pretty little thing..."

Your body sings at the compliment, shuddering, legs pressing into his sides, wanting to close shut but unable to. You're light-headed, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but this feels too good to stop. With quivering hands, you slip your fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling carelessly. He's growing his hair out, so the length falls just shy of his shoulders, some strands curling over his neck like delicate tendrils of silk.

Jeonghan's low groan pulls you out of your dazed thoughts. "Hannie..."

"Mhm, am I fucking you good, gorgeous? No one else can fuck you like I can, hm?"

You rake your nails across the nape of his neck, whimpering when he shifts just a little, hitching one of your legs up and hooking it around his slender waist. He thrusts a few more times, and his cock brushes against a spot that has you jolting, mewling as he grazes it repeatedly.

"Oh? Right there?" Jeonghan noses at your cheekbone, listening to your gasps and whimpers, feeling his abdomen tighten at the obscene sounds you let out.

"R-Right there..."

"That's it... You think Seungcheol can get you like this?"

At the mention of your ex's name, you whine loudly. A part of you hadn't expected Jeonghan to remember the earlier incident, but you should've known better. It seems stupid to think Yoon Jeonghan wouldn't remember an incident that occurred only an hour ago.

"H-Hannie..."

"Hm, you gonna meet him for lunch? Gonna let him try to win you over? Gonna let him have what's mine?"

You shake your head, on the verge of sobbing, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "Wouldn't do that," you rasp. "I'm yours, Hannie..."

Jeonghan doesn't seem very convinced. "Yeah? You're mine?" he mutters against the apple of your cheek. His voice is low, any traces of anger or annoyance concealed. "You wanna say you're mine, with his contact still saved in your phone, baby? Don't be silly."

Your heel digs into Jeonghan's lower back, anchoring him to you as he continues to drill into you. "But I am yours—"

"Are you?"

"Y-Yes, always yours..." A hard thrust has you gasping, tears trickling down your temple, getting caught in your hair.

Jeonghan's pace stutters, distracted by the way you blink up at him through your damp lashes. Tears gather at your lash line, and he can't help but want more. It's a sick thought, but Jeonghan doesn't care much. How could he care when he's balls deep inside of you, feeling like he's about to explode from the way your heat wraps around him so well? He wants to see you cry for him, sob, snivel, all because you can't get enough of his cock. He wants you to cum so hard you see stars and forget about everything but him, him, him. Choi Seungcheol will be the last thing on your mind.

When Jeonghan lowers himself down onto his elbow, he seals his mouth to yours, kissing you fervently. It's a bruising kiss, teeth digging into lips, tongue rolling together in an alluring dance. After some time, Jeonghan reluctantly pulls back, taking a much-needed breath. He groans at the sight of your lips, all plump and damp with a mixture of his and your spit. "Fuck, baby... you're mine, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, yes!" you babble, vision blurring as more tears fill your eyes.

"You're gonna let me fill you up? Have your pussy dripping my cum for days so you don't forget who you belong to. You like the sound of that?"

"God, yes, yes..."

Your thighs are starting to shake, Jeonghan can feel it on his hips. He brings his lips over yours again, not kissing you, just barely letting it brush over yours. He can feel every hot breath you release against his mouth. "Say his name, baby."

"Unghh... Hannie—"

He snickers. "I said his name, not mine," he says darkly, pecking your lips once.

You're confused and so goddamn frustrated. You're teetering on the precipice of your orgasm, and he wants to play mind games with you now? "No," you whine, shaking your head.

"No? Why are you so scared?"

"F-Fuck, please!"

"I won't get mad at you for saying it, princess." His voice has dropped down an octave. It feels like it's seeping into your brain, turning it into mush.

"C-Can't..." you murmur, drool gathering in your mouth the more Jeonghan splits you open.

"You can't? Why? Scared you might cum if you say his name? Scared you'll think of him when you cum?"

Your eyes grow wide in alarm. "N-No! I wouldn't do that, oh god, f-fuck..."

"Then say it or you're not cumming," he threatens, grinding harder into you, angling his pelvis just slightly so that it brushes against your clit every time he thrusts in. He watches your eyes roll back, pleasure fogging up your brain. He feels your juices coat his pelvis, splashing over his lower abdomen. Whenever his cock dips in and out, the wet sounds resound throughout the room, and it makes him hiss. "Say it," he repeats, knowing he won't last much longer.

You frantically shake your head, moans coming out stuttered. "N-No, please don't, I can't...Hannie—"

Jeonghan notes the way you're starting to sound distant. "Say it or I'm leaving you here to cum by yourself."

Your eyes meet his—frazzled, panicked, dazed. "Please, I can't!"

"You wanted me mad, right? This is it, princess. Show some gratitude and say his fucking name."

You're trying hard to read him, to possibly decipher his intentions, but it's so hard when you feel like you're on the verge of passing out from the onslaught of pleasure. You reach one hand down to rake at the skin of his lower back, earning a throaty groan from him, a sound that makes your skin prickle. Your other hand settles on his face, cupping his jaw softly, as if begging him.

Your eyes roam over his face, taking in his exquisite beauty that always leaves you short of breath. His tousled hair hangs over his forehead, dangling in front of his eyes, dark like pools of obsidian, drawing you into their depth. There's a radiant flush that colours his cheeks, drawing your attention to the contour of his cheekbones and jaw, dusted lightly with sweat, highlighting the sharp features. Then his lips—so inviting and soft, parting with each breath.

Jeonghan feels almost flattered under the weight of your affectionate stare. He briefly closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose, trying to pull himself together. He tries to push everything out of his mind—your delicious sounds, your intoxicating scent, your warm cunt around his cock. It's your sweet, quiet whine that pulls him out of his reverie. When he locks eyes with you again, he knows there's nothing he can do to delay his impending climax—not when you're looking up at him so tenderly, eyes fixated on him like a moth drawn to a mesmerizing flame.

"I c-cant... Don't make me say his name, p-please..."

Jeonghan swallows hard, one hand curving at the nape of your neck. With his grip he tilts your head up, letting your lips caress his. "Say my name, then. Say my name when you cum. Look at me and show me who you belong to..."

You cum with a shout of Jeonghan's name, your whole body shaking at the sudden explosion. You squirm in your boyfriend's hold, toes curling over the back of his thighs as the pleasure ravages your whole body, surging through every nerve and every cell. It's numbing and so overwhelming at the same time, every inch of your skin humming with electricity, and every vein feeling like they've been set ablaze. For a moment, nothing else in the world matters except you and Jeonghan, entwined in each other as you lose yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, should I fill you up, baby?" Jeonghan's voice quivers just slightly.

The question sends another flood of ecstasy through you, cunt fluttering around his cock a second time. "Yes, yes—"

Your voice is like a siren's call to him, beckoning him, tempting him. Jeonghan is only a man, and he's not immune to a force as powerful as you. He sinks his teeth into your neck as he finally empties himself inside you with a drawn-out groan. Your tight cunt is pulsing so tightly around him, milking him, forcing every drop of cum to spill into you and coat your walls. A rather high-pitched whine escapes his lips as he slumps into you, hips flushed to yours, aching balls slick with the mixture of your release and his.

You're panting heavily as you wrap your arms around Jeonghan, blinking up at the ceiling blearily, feeling filled to the brim with his cum still in you. Despite having the urge to clean yourself up and get rid of the stickiness between your legs, you lie there for another minute, feeling so content with Jeonghan's weight atop yours and his lips on your neck. Being with him is pure bliss.

"Jeonghan," you say softly after some time, not wanting to ruin the peace and quiet.

He hums, rolling over to the side to lie on his back, letting his softening cock slip out of you. He pulls you into him with one arm, allowing you to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets out a pleased sigh, one hand grazing over your bare back, fingertips gliding down the dip of your spine.

Placing a palm on his chest, you rest your chin on the back of your hand, gazing up at him tiredly. He seems to glow so prettily, eyes fluttered shut and a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Despite the heaviness of your eyelids, you gather your resolve, knowing that you still have something to clarify with him.

Without thinking too much, you mumble Jeonghan's name again and smile when his eyes flutter open to peer down at you drowsily. His free hand comes up to brush back the hair from your eyes.

"I'm sorry for not letting you know," you mutter, the weight of your guilt just now settling in your heart. If you don't apologise now, the feeling might devour you whole. "I should've told you..."

The hand on your back ceases moving, palm splaying on your upper back, warm against your skin. "Baby, I wasn't really—you know—angry about it. I was a little stumped, sure, but... I trust you. I always trust you."

You shake your head, pulling yourself up slightly to look at him better. "You deserve to be angry. Jeonghan, you should be so angry at me. I should've told you as soon as I got home from that dinner party."

Jeonghan chuckles, much to your dismay. "Okay, then why didn't you?"

"I just... didn't think it was important. I felt like it wasn't anything worth telling you. It's not a good excuse, I know."

"Is Seungcheol important to you?"

Your eyes widen in disbelief, unable to fully grasp what you just heard. "What! No, of course not!"

"Then what's there to apologise about?" Jeonghan says with a snicker. "Did you kiss him at the party? Did he try to make any move on you? Did he seem interested in you?"

"No to all of those. I... I told him I already found someone else," you admit in a quiet voice.

When Jeonghan smiles at you, it looks somewhat smug. "That's my girl... Besides, it wasn't his face that you were sitting on when you got back home from that party, was it?"

Appalled by Jeonghan's words, you bring your palm down on his chest, smacking him. "You're disgusting, Yoon Jeonghan."

He only laughs, eyes crinkling as he pulls you even closer. "Don't act like you don't love it."

You say nothing, only bringing your head down to rest it on his chest again. His heartbeat is strong against your ear, and his skin feels warm under your cheek.

"So..." Jeonghan begins. "Round two in the shower?"

He doesn't have to ask twice—you're already off the bed and sauntering towards the bathroom.

4K notes · View notes

punkshort · 7 months ago

Text

It didn't mean anything

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Thank you anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel finds out about your history with Ben for the first time.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, possessive!joel (might be a bit over the line but i got carried away, sue me), jealous!joel, edging, rough sex but turns soft (bc of course)

WC: 2.1K

A/N: this is a request I had for a series I wrote but I think it could be read on its own.

"Where's my fuckin' glasses?" Joel roared from upstairs.

"Wherever you left them last!" you shouted back from the kitchen. You were tired and just wanted to go to bed but Joel was really starting to piss you off, so you made an excuse to come down to the kitchen to cool off.

It wasn't working.

"I left 'em on my goddamn book where I always leave 'em. You were movin' shit around up here today, you must've done somethin' with 'em," you heard him snap from the depths of your shared bedroom. You rolled your eyes and dug your fingers into the back of a chair to try to ground yourself. You knew his anger was misplaced. It wasn't really about the glasses.

Tonight at dinner you made one little innocuous comment about an old flame, Ben, another resident of Jackson, completely forgetting you hadn't found the chance to tell Joel about him yet, and it was all downhill from there.

Your relationship with Joel was still new. Well, not really.

It was and it wasn't.

This part of your relationship was new. Living together, sharing your lives together, loving each other... all of that was new. The sex was not new.

So maybe it was a little bit your fault for not telling Joel about Ben sooner. But it was the middle of the goddamn apocalypse and things like that didn't really cross your mind anymore. Besides, what you had with Ben didn't mean a thing. It was for comfort and stress relief on both sides, no feelings were involved whatsoever. And if that wasn't enough, Ben was also currently in a loving, committed relationship with your mutual friend, Lisa.

Joel didn't seem to care about any of that. He was still worked up, stomping around upstairs, slamming drawers shut and muttering under his breath.

It was really fucking annoying.

His heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs was the next thing you heard and you braced yourself for more of his attitude. Storming into the kitchen, he pushed things around on the counters as if his glasses could be hidden behind the flour while you stood at the table glaring at him. When he inevitably was unsuccessful, he spun around angrily with his hands on his hips.

"You gonna help me look or you just gonna stand there?"

With your nostrils flared and your jaw clenched, you marched across the kitchen, coming to a halt directly in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you lifted an arm above his head and plucked his glasses from his hair, then blindly dropped them on the counter.

"Well?"

His eyes shifted to the glasses and back to you as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

"I'm goin' to bed," he muttered, leaving the glasses and heading for the stairs.

You scoffed in disbelief. "What? I don't get a thank you?"

He whipped around and stalked back over to you, his reaction so fast it startled you and had you backing up against the kitchen wall.

"What else should I thank you for? Hm?" he asked lowly, bracketing both arms on the wall on either side of your head. He stared down at you, anger rolling off him in waves, eyes dark and fuming. "Should I thank you for makin' me feel like a fuckin' idiot tonight? For not tellin' me somethin' you know I shoulda known 'bout months ago?"

"I already apologized, Joel! What more do you want from me? You didn't tell me about Angie until-"

"That was different an' you know it!" he yelled, smacking the wall beside you with the flat of his hand. "We weren't together then! You weren't livin' with me, sleepin' in my bed-"

"Goddamnit, Joel! It didn't mean anything!" You were mere inches apart, your hot, angry breath fanned over his face with every word. "I-I never even think about him like that! He was the only fucking guy I knew and I just wanted to get my mind off of the end of the fucking world every now and then!"

"I don't want you seein' him," he said, his tone threatening. "Ever. You pass him in the street, you just keep walkin'. He's on fuckin' fire, it ain't your problem."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" you seethed, but the arousal was already pooling warm between your legs. "You think you can tell me what to do?"

"Yeah, I do," he said through clenched teeth, then grabbed your jaw with one of his big hands. "'Cause you're mine."

You whimpered when his mouth crashed down on yours, teeth and tongues colliding messily as he pulled you off the wall. Your fingers twisted in his flannel, tugging and pushing him this way and that, acting as if you had any fight in you whatsoever.

"Shit," you gasped when his mouth traveled down to your neck and his hand cupped your aching core through your jeans. He applied some pressure with the tip of his fingers, locating your clit with practiced ease, and you tipped your head back with a moan. Your fingers that were once wrestling with the fabric of his shirt were now lost in his hair, holding the back of his head in place so he had no choice but to suck and bite marks across your collarbone.

His fingers were moving fast over the seam of your jeans, rubbing and pinching your sex through the thick denim, dragging you to the precipice just to deny you your orgasm at the last moment by pulling his hand away.

You whined and tugged his hair as hard as you could, trying to make it hurt, but he just chuckled and straightened back up. "Turn around."

Obediently, you swiveled around and braced your hands on the counter, your breath coming in sharp, excited pants as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down to your knees, your underwear quickly following.

He dipped one thick finger into your folds from behind and your back instantly arched. You felt his belt digging into the flesh of your ass when he ground his hips against you and brought his mouth to your ear. "You're so fuckin' wet, baby. You like workin' me up like this?"

You bit your lip and closed your eyes when he slid his finger inside your leaking cunt. "Maybe," you whispered, then moaned when he curled his finger inside you, purposely teasing you by not giving you enough. Just as quickly as he gave you his finger, he took it away, leaving you feeling hopelessly empty again.

"I think you do. And I think you need me to remind you why you're in my bed every night 'n not his."

Your thing with Ben ended before you even arrived in Jackson, before you even knew who Joel was, so to imply he was even remotely some type of competition was ridiculous. But when you heard the jingle of his belt and the metallic zip of his jeans being undone, you decided it to point that out another time.

"Fuck!" you cried out when he entered you with one quick thrust. Your arm shot backwards, hand searching for some part of him to hold on to. His hand found yours and laced your fingers together before looping both your arms around your front, holding you close. He was breathing heavily in your ear, giving you a few moments to gather yourself and allow your walls to relax around his girth.

"Fuck," you said again, but this time it was breathier and more at ease. The initial sting was fading with every shaky breath and even though he was driven by jealousy and irrational anger, he didn't want to hurt you. He never wanted to hurt you. At the end of the day, he knew how you felt about him and that was all that mattered, so he gave you as much time as you needed before experimentally rolling his hips. You moaned his name and pushed your ass against him, urging him to continue.

With one of his hands still bonded with yours across your ribs and the other spread wide and flat over the cool counter next to your hip, he bent forward and slammed into you a little rougher, a little harder, until the mixed sounds of your skin slapping together and the lewd wetness from your pussy filled the air.

"He ever fuck you like this? Make you feel as good as I do? Huh?" he groaned into your neck. Your body jolted forward against the edge of the counter with every forceful thrust, knocking the wind out of you but you managed to shake your head and offer a weak no.

You wished you could spread your legs wider but you were restricted by the material bunched around your knees, so instead you arched your back and pushed your ass back against his hips. Again and again, you rocked your hips onto his cock, matching his rhythm as sweat began to collect on the back of your neck and the muscles in your stomach tightened. Joel flattened his tongue against your skin, drinking down your sweat with a deep moan.

"Taste so good, sweetheart. Feel s'good too... fuck - yeah, yeah - keep doin' that."

You whined and tilted your head to the side, searching for his mouth. When you found it, you hungrily slanted your lips together, tongue invading, licking past his teeth while your free hand reached back to splay wide across the side of his face.

You gasped when the tip of his cock brushed against something inside you that made your vision wobble. Your nails raked pathetically against his skin and your walls clenched around him, silently begging for more when words failed you.

"I love you," he whispered, hips still ruthlessly crashing into you, forehead pressed against your hair, hot breath panting in your ear.

"I love you, too," you mumbled back. "S-so deep like this, Joel, fuck," you whimpered, brows pinching together as you struggled for air. Your legs tensed and your eyes flashed wide open, searching for him as you felt yourself near your peak. His eyes were dark and filled with animalistic desire as he laid claim to you in the middle of your kitchen, and even though his jealousy was severely misplaced, it fanned the flames of excitement inside you.

You were his, and he was yours.

The coil snapped and you sobbed his name, body going rigid under his touch but he fucked you through it, to not only prolong your orgasm but to join you, as well.

"Oh, god," he mumbled repeatedly, his thrusts becoming sloppy, his hands flexing and breath growing ragged before pulling out and spilling himself all over your backside with a heavy groan.

Your upper body slumped across the counter, arms spread wide, eyes squeezed shut. Your legs trembled as you fought to remain upright but soon it wouldn't be your concern. Joel grabbed the nearest dish towel and cleaned you up before dragging your underwear and jeans back up, leaving them unbuttoned, before hastily doing the same to his own so he could gently lift you into his arms.

"You okay?"

You hummed and nodded sleepily against his chest. To your surprise, he bent down to scoop you up with one arm under your knees and he carried you to the couch, setting you down carefully and brushing the loose strands of hair from your face. He stayed there with you, quietly kneeling next to the couch, rubbing soothing circles over your arm, your stomach, your hips until you finally opened your eyes with a sigh. His head was resting against his forearm but he lifted it up when he heard you and gave you a little grin. You smiled back and brushed the pad of your thumb over one of his eyebrows, taking in every fine line, scar and freckle over his beautiful face.

"You don't have to be so jealous, you know. There's nothing to worry about."

He snorted and nipped at your thumb. "I know."

You bit your lip and playfully tapped the tip of his nose. "But maybe we can do that again sometime because that was really hot."

He chuckled and pressed his hands into the cushion of the couch so he could stand with a groan, fingers digging into his lower back with a wince. "You're gonna be the death of me one day."

You giggled and forced yourself to stand, not even bothering buttoning your jeans as you headed for the stairs. "You coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He nodded.

"Lemme lock up and turn the lights off."

You yawned and continued up the steps, a little smirk pulling at your lips when you reached the top, and you paused.

"Don't forget your glasses."

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occamstfs · 4 months ago

Text

Sticky Fingers

Junpei finds himself drawn to sneak an early peak at Arcadio Carvajal's new exhibition. When the chance to take a piece home presents itslef, he'll find himself a little more than changed from the experience.

My first sequel! Arcadio from Marichismo decides to take the chance to find a new assistant and lover! In other don't forget to vote on my Viral Transformation poll, ends Sunday! Otherwise enjoy this tale of muscle growth and otherwise masculine changes! -Occam

Junpei can’t believe that he somehow hadn’t heard about this art exhibition until just now. Like many a young thirsty gay across the country he does well to keep a tab on the illustrious (Read: Hot) work of Arcadio Carvajal. Many institutions are a little hesitant to host an artist whose name may well be synonymous with sexual provocateur but, with attendance numbers down across the board, even more museums are thrilled at the chance to host a man who almost magically draws in hordes of adoring patrons.

His latest exhibition on homoeroticism in popular culture is setting attendance records at just about every museum it stops at. Junpei was beyond thrilled when his friend Corey leaked that the gallery he works at was going to be hosting an exhibition of Arcadio’s starting tomorrow! Ignoring any concerns as to how odd it is that he’s not heard anything about the opening until the night before, Junpei grabs his backpack and makes for the gallery immediately, almost as if possessed. Something in his chest flutters with anticipation as he wanders the few blocks down to the hall where he’ll hopefully be able to sneak an early peek of some of the works on display.

Making the trip down a few blocks with haste he finds there’s surprisingly little activity at all in or around the gallery. Sure it’s after hours but the night before an opening, let alone an opening by an artist as impressive as Arcadio Carvajal? You’d think there would be some last minute prep work to be done. Skulking up to nonchalantly look through the front door, he puts his weight on it just as a little test. Just to see if it's locked, no overt plans as to what he would do with the information, he just wanted to know. Just wanted to see.

When the door gives, he can’t suppress the grin rising on his lips. In for a penny, he decides. Fighting to keep his expression guiltless he surreptitiously looks around to make sure no one’s watching the entrance before he sneaks into the dark hall. He tries to scheme up an alibi as he digs out his phone to use as a flashlight. Probably wouldn’t buy that he thought they were open. Could just say he was supposed to meet his friend here, though he’d hate for Corey to catch blowback. Junpei then rolls his eyes as he figures he could come up with something on the spot, if he’s even caught that is! Adrenaline keeps his conspiratorial mind from noticing he of course already has been, as the gallery’s cameras follow the young student into the exhibition hall holding Arcadio’s exciting exhibit.

The amateur intruder almost has a heart attack as he steps into the gallery proper and the lights flash on. Stumbling into a wall in shock, he ducks behind a display case and nervously scopes out the new space he finds himself in. After quietly ensuring that no one is actively here, Junpei chalks the lights up to be automatic and hastens his pace. Switching off his now unneeded flashlight, he starts scoping out the litany of artwork dedicated to the male form surrounding him.

His excitement eclipses whatever paltry dregs of anxiety or fear remain as he sees the works of incredibly influential artists gathered here. Junpei knew Arcadio was a titan but he could never have expected the prolific art that fills this place. First things first, as he enters he sees a diptych of the artist himself, under his breath he murmurs, “god he’s so fucking hot.” Somewhere out of sight surveillance footage shines onto a man watching him explore the gallery as he mischievously smirks.

On the student’s left are a wall of nudes and more softcore fare from artists across the ages. Mizers and Mapplethorpes hang floor to ceiling alongside more modern work by Arcadio and his own gay contemporaries. Near the far side there seems to be a whole section dedicated to portraiture of St. Sebastian but Junpei is less eager to explore the thorough history of homoerotic photography. Certainly a medium that has brought him endless pleasure, as it were, but they may as well just be prints to him. No, he wants to see the real stuff.

Wandering past some dozen miniature recreations of Michaelangelo’s David made of shining plasticine latex, some clad in leather, others in the buff as the artist intended, Junpei finds what he snuck in for. Spotlights shine down unto the wall opposite the photography, teeming with works from gay trailblazers of the art world. Namely the ones whose primary focus was on nothing but bulging fetishistic muscle and strong-jawed pretty boys. Those who crafted overt unapologetic pornography and others who snuck homoeroticism covertly to the masses. This is to say there is more work by Tom of Finland and Leyendecker than he could possibly appreciate in this brief time alone.

He spends as long as he thinks he can just staring at the work. Drinking in the graphite scraped bulges and tight leather uniforms of the massive men drawn by the Finn. Reverberations from his work still echo into the art and lusty imaginations of countless gay men today. Indeed upon gracing dear Junpei’s eyes they immediately cause some mobility issues to arise. He struggles with his pants as he struggles to walk forward with a package that only surges harder with each fervent tug of his pants. His rising issue stops not as he moves on to observe the bright colors and hungry eyes of the men in Leyendecker’s advertisements. Masculine forms idealized and gleaming opposed with the raw heightened sex found in the work nearby. Junpei can barely control the desire coursing through him, but knowing he can’t stay forever the young man continues onward, biting his lip as he tries to will his boner away.

Going through a curtain into a still darkened room, it takes a second for Junpei’s eyes to adjust before he sees a room dedicated to non-western homoeroticism. Finding aged Chinese scrolls of gay eroticism he snaps pictures, quite thankful that they are less visceral arousing than the work he just left behind, though he’s decidedly happy to see some shred of himself in the gallery. Turning around he gasps as he sees something he wasn’t quite expecting. Next to a wall of more deliberately pornographic bara men he sees panels from his favorite mangaka depicting bulging muscled men in provocative poses. But more thrilling than that, it seems the main sketch isn’t in a display case. It’s just sitting there, loose, free.

Junpei doesn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t even planning on coming in illicitly, but staring at the crisp art in front of him he cannot stop himself as he pulls a folder from his backpack. Before he can even issue a command to his body, the sketch is already in his bag and he’s sprinting away. The smirk of the man watching his every move grows wider as he watches Junpei clumsily flee the scene. Fleeing out the door into the dark streets, Junpei pushes past other students thoughtlessly as he races home, delirium setting in as struggles to understand and realize what he just did. Slamming his apartment door behind him he yoinks out the swiped art. He isn’t sure if it’s the image itself or the exhilaration from his crime but his only recently stilled cock begins to harden once more.

Mind barely present what can he do but obey his rising erection. Junpei begins to masturbate, staring at his stolen artwork, panting as he quickly comes close; free hand moving thoughtlessly he feels it scrape against something taped to the back of the sketch. Eyebrows furrowing as he continues to beat his meat, Junpei turns the picture around and he instantly stops as his blood grows cold. “Evening Junpei. I know what you did. See you Soon. Yours, Arcadio Carvajal.” Junpei drops the drawing and it flutters to the floor, lying face down, leaving the note facing up at him. His mind escapes from whatever haze compelled him to commit larceny as his thoughts race faster than could possibly be productive.

What do I do? I need to bring it back now. How did that note get there!? It certainly has my name on it, and it’s signed by Arcadio. Fear seizes him as he backs away from the stolen piece, tripping over the pants that had fallen around his ankles. In his scrambling he falls back and hits his head. Before he completely loses himself to unconsciousness he sees the picture purloined face up once more. Groaning as his vision begins to fade, his eyes latch onto his legs as searing pain slowly burns through him. Cresting into a trancelike state he mumbles incoherently as it almost seems like veins are bulging onto his thighs?

Perhaps unsurprising given the prominence of Arcadio in what lead him into this stupor, but as he’s truly overtaken Junpei sees the massive artist himself. The man’s arms are crossed but the expression on his face is not one of judgment or disdain at Junpei’s actions. Rather, to the best of the young man’s judgment, it looks like one of anticipation. Junpei tries to speak but finds his mouth dry up as the man across from him waves a finger, “Ah ah ah mi ladrónito. I believe you have something of mine.” The eponymous little thief pats himself down trying to dream his plunder into existence but produces naught. Arcadio pouts his lips but there is a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Well perrito. For your little transgression I think you owe me, si? Think I could use some more hands on deck to watch out for petty thieves, don’t you?” Arcadio’s expression loses all the performative animosity that remains as he looks at Junpei with glee and his intentions begin to suffuse the young man. Feeling his ability to speak return, Junpei opens his mouth but before he can produce a word he is wracked with burning pain from the artist's stare.

Beginning from his feet, clad in the cheap tennis shoes that he wore to his haphazard heist, heat sears the soles of his feet. At first it’s as if he’s standing on coals before simmering down to the pain of sprinting across a hot beach; finally it shifts to the pleasant warmth of a warm footbath. Pain swiftly gives way to pleasure as Junpei flexes his feet just to ensure he feels every sensation he can, only then does he feel his toes bump against the front of the small shoe, just as the bridge of his foot strains against the tongue. Junpei grunts as he hears stitches begin to give way, toes blasting through the cheap fabric while his soles rear through the sides and spill onto the floor as his feet totally eclipse the remains of his shoe.

Looking down at feet that may as well need clown shoes compared to the petit ones he’s always had, Junpei feels some new instinct in his mind. Almost like an intrusive thought, he feels a need to be brash, to spar with the man he so respects more than anything. Ignoring his usual nature he follows this instinct, it’s just a dream right? Fighting through the pain and pleasure still coursing through him, Junpei speaks up, “Grgh- What are you- Are you giving me a foot fetish or what?” Arcadio’s face lights with a smile as he hears the young man speak up with the slightest amount of acid on his tongue. With no words to betray his emotion at the seed of Junpei’s changing psyche he moves his eyes up to Junpei’s legs.

“Oh what the fu-” he’s unable to even finish the thought as his whole body convulses with the sensation of his legs lengthening before they start to pack on muscle. Shooting almost a foot higher, Junpei falls back on his ass as he clenches at his calves and thighs. His gaze follows Arcadio’s as the man stares at his tight calves, expanding with each pulse of the heart. Just like every other inch of Junpei’s body there’s initially little at all impressive, and then they flex larger, and then there's a bulge that will never leave, and then there is a calf that would inspire jealousy by any lesser men who glimpses it. More than baseballs, muscle bulges enough for even socks large enough for his massive feet would struggle to contain them. This is nothing however compared to the transformation moving upwards into his thighs.

Veins bulge thick as power seeps upwards, burning warmth sears his hands as they clutch at the hocks of meat that now constitute his thighs. Junpei blushes as he sees new distinct masses bulge out of his once bony thighs. Staring down at his increasingly powerful lower body he is filled with determination to get them even larger. The need for power begins to wash over whatever ideals or needs the young man had before this dream. Seeing the thick veins clearly pump and bulge larger with each beat of his heart, Junpei traces them with his finger and bites his lip as Arcadio can’t help but stare at the growing package that demands attention from the both of them.

Arcadio is more than pleased to stare, each second spent lingering on the cock sends waves of pleasure through Junpei as his mind struggles to parse that his cock and balls are stretching larger by the second. Quickly surging higher and thicker, his dick eclipses the size its been at its most turgid erection before now and it still pushes further with each groping grasp and sweaty breath. Similarly, beneath it his balls hang lower and the few dark hairs that shade his groin grow thicker and curl longer as his heavy balls rapidly increase production of the hormones this increasingly massive body demands. He cannot help but thrust into the air, his thin arms struggling to support the power his thighs summon. Landing back on his ass it too bulges larger with every flexing movement, quickly regaining its position as the largest muscle on the body as it becomes a bubble butt that would entice even the least male-interested eyes.

Moving on, lest Junpei blow his load all over himself, Arcadio's eyes continue upward to begin the most impressive work yet. Junpei groans as he desperately needs a break from the overwhelming pleasure burning in his lower body. He drags his hands across his inner thigh, feeling callouses scratch his sensitive sweaty skin before palming his cock to a spurt of pre before moving on. His fingers trace towards his torso as veins begin to trail upwards, crossing his abs as they bulge into existence.

His body involuntarily goes into a crunch as every powerful ab cramps, sending stabbing pain and searing pleasure through his mind. Drool flings out of his mouth as he launches forward moaning. Junpei’s rougher hands grab his beefy thighs to prevent himself from falling backwards once again. His eyes almost cross as he seemingly loses control of any unengaged motor function. Across from him Arcadio just smirks and watches as Junpei’s sweat soaked hair changes from the same unintentional look he’s had all his life into something far more deliberate and fashionable. Exactly what he would want in a body man.

Hearing the strained groans and hungrily looking to the ephemeral expression dancing across Junpei’s face, Arcadio hesitates before continuing. Feeling the briefest of pauses from otherworldly bliss, Junpei cries out, his voice rumbling deeper as he finds his neck has thickened, “Mrgh- Don’t stop boss. I want, more.” The artist’s lips twitch as he is more than happy to obey the thief’s desires. After all, it's about time to get to his favorite part. At the same time Junpei’s mind flickers to the massive pecs that he so enjoyed observing at the museum as he begins to feel building pressure, increasing potential, on his chest.

Summoning a laser focus, Arcadio stares at Junpei’s arms and currently non existent pecs. He has trouble ignoring the bulge dawning in his own pants as he sees Junpei’s stick thin arms begin to bulk up. Immediately his arms fly behind him as he rapidly alternates between stretching them and flexing. With each thrust away from his body into the air they lengthen, fingertips shoot longer as his palms widen. With every bulging flex veins are forced to protrude even further through his faultless skin. His biceps may as well be forged of cast iron as they become impossible to ignore, power courses through them as from now on even the smallest movement causes a medley of muscle to dance across his beastly arms.

In between his bulging biceps, above the cobblestone abs, underneath shoulders still widening and taps pushing against a shirt that barely holds on, his pecs finally begin to receive the attention they have always lacked. Junpei’s nipples increase from the dimesize they’ve ever held into half-dollar protrusions that will be impossible to hide under a shirt. Similarly, the measly pecs they stand strong on begin to grow at a rate more prominent than any change so far.

The sound of Junpei’s shirt giving way to muscle he couldn’t truly fathom before now burgeoning onto his chest overwhelms him more than he could ever know. In the moment of them bursting larger than life, he feels himself let loose of whatever restraining fragments of his past self remain. He wasn’t sure what caused him to take the sketch from the gallery, but Arcadio knew he would. Arcadio Carvajal, his boss, clearly had more planned for him than Junpei ever could imagine. As his pecs bloat beyond reason and he feels his chest pulse with power does he give himself totally over to become the perfect, powerful man that not for a moment in his life he thought he could become.

His body shines with sweat as he finally loses control, loosing load after load into the white dreamscape around him. He opens his mouth to cry Arcadio’s name but before a sound could release he finds his godly body pressing up against one of the few men he considers an equal. His new burning muscled form grinds against that of Arcadio. Getting his sweat all over his boss, his lover, his best friend, Junpei smirks in between labored breaths and slobbered kisses. Somehow feeling the scratch of Arcadio’s chest through his shirt the new body man can’t help but frot against the artist’s torso.

Shoving his bearded face into Junpei’s neck, which certainly doesn’t help matters, Arcadio moves his scratchy mouth to his lover’s ear and whispers, “Me esperas�� See you soon mi amor.” Seeding desire more potent than anything, every bulging muscle clenches and forces itself larger one last time. Every inch of his impossibly large, inhumanly powerful new form sizzles with the capacity for more pleasure than could ever be bestowed upon him before. Junpei will evermore dominate any room he decides to grace. He will do so physically and intangibly with an aura that exudes strength and entices the appetites of all, though perhaps that due to constantly sweating through any clothing or deodorant he throws on within an hour.

Feeling emptiness fill him as Arcadio disappears from his dream after whispering in his ear, the now massive man has no recourse besides willing himself to wake up. And so he does.

Junpei wakes up on the floor of the apartment he’s been renting with Arcadio in the leadup to their new exhibition, for some reason the back of his head is sore as if he hit it. Though that’s nothing compared to the soreness that absolutely fills every last inch of his body. The giant groans as he wills his titanic upper body to sit up and smirks as he sees the sweat he must have just worked up. Scratching his pits and struggling not to sniff his hand after, his head briefly filled with countless memories of Arcadio chiding his poor hygiene, he hesitates before noticing some expensive paper lying on the ground.

Tilting his head and grabbing a nearby towel to wipe the sweat almost dripping from his hand, he takes great care to grab whatever this is without getting too much of himself on it. Turning it around he’s floored to see a sketch that’s supposed to be on the museum wall right now, worse than that it’s from an area that Arcadio has left to him! Taking no time at all to question how this possibly ended up here, Junpei puts it in one of Arcadio’s artsafe folders and sprints down the street to the gallery.

For being the assistant of such a fastidious man, Junpei has a habit of letting things slip through the cracks, but Arcadio never minds. He knows in the end Junpei will always more than make up for it, always aiming to go above and beyond and, somehow, more often than not exceeding what Arcadio even thought was possible. Entering the gallery the behemoth switches into the closest thing to a sneak that he can muster, unfortunately his massive clumsy feet would always betray his presence. His lover smiles as he hears Junpei’s failed covert operation.

Standing in front of the frame that is supposed to hold the piece that Junpei is now overtly returning, he turns with a sly smirk to see the man doing his best impression of a cat burglar. Arcadio rolls his eyes and goes to grab the folder, lest his lover get his streaming sweat onto it and create an awkward situation with the mangaka. After depositing in where it belongs and shutting it into a plastic case that was conspicuously absent earlier Arcadio returns his attention to Junpei who now looks around the gallery in wonder at what they have crafted together.

Arcadio’s grin grows wider with every step towards Junpei, nearing close enough to kiss, he stands tall and the two enjoy each other’s passion for the first time in reality. Though as Junpei’s deific form clearly demonstrates, what is real doesn’t matter all too much at all. Arcadio doesn’t quite understand the whims of the world he exists in and he’s pretty confident given enough time he won’t even remember being the impetus for his lover’s changes. In fact, as he stands in the arms of Junpei, memories already begin filling his mind of their years together that are as real as anything. Looking around he sees a room full of decisions they made together, body man he may be but the two of them are more than equals. Breaking away from the kiss, he sniffs the air and steps back from Junpei.

Arcadio looks at Junpei’s puppy dog eyes and ruffles his short hair, “Now go take a shower, perrito. Opening is in two hours and you stink, mi amor.” Junpei looks down at himself in shock, somehow forgetting the cold sweat covering his clothes and nods fervently before sprinting back out the door. The two lovers remain on each other's minds as they go about preparing for opening day. Ever but a thought away and always eager for the next moment that they will have alone together.

#male tf #mental change #muscle tf #male transformation #dumber #reality change #gay transformation

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vvanillal · 24 days ago

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𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ Forbidden Desires꣑ৎ 𓄹⠀𓈒⠀ㅤׄ

Summary- You and Harry were supposed to be ‘Causal’.

Warnings- Harry Potter x F!Reader, Angst, Smut, Jealous!Harry, Possessive!Harry If You Squint, Fingering, Eating Out

Word Count- 2.6k!

A/N- AHHHH ANOTHER HARRY SMUT. I loved writing this one. Also don’t mind that the reader is a Slytherin 2 fics in a row. MY REQUEST ARE OPEN

It was a secret: you and Harry. You’d both made a promise to each other not to say anything. You also made another promise: no strings attached. It was hard, truly. Especially since it had been Harry. He could have any woman he wanted, and for some reason he chose to be… something, with you.

At first, it went fine. You could even say it was the happiest you’d been in a while; sneaking around with Harry. He would do sweet things, like pass you notes in classes you shared. ‘You look beautiful today,” one had read. That day, all you did was curl your hair; you hadn’t even put makeup on. Then, it became something he would just do. You were sure people noticed in class, when you’d giggle to yourself with a little piece of paper in your hand. You’d just be walking in the hallway some days, and feel someone pull you into a darkened corner. Harry, or you, were never even sure it was ‘safe’, but you never heard any talk about it. So you kept doing it. After every class, you looked forward to feeling a hand jerk you away from the crowd. He’d push you against the cold, brick wall, pressing himself against you as close as possible. His lips would nip at your neck, trying not to leave marks. Your breath would be heavy as you tried to be as quiet as possible. “Harry, we’re going to be late,” you’d whisper. “I just need to feel you for a few more seconds,” he’d whisper back, his lips parted against your collarbone. Each time, he touched you like he hadn’t in days. Harry craved you, all day every day.

Just like you expected though, the happiness didn’t last long. Soon, it became apparent that for Harry, you couldn’t breathe in the same direction as another man. You could tell when he was mad; you could see it in the way his stare was hardened with yours, and you could feel it in the way his touch was rough enough to leave bruises. “Harry? I know you’re upset, so tell me what’s wrong,” you said one day. You watched as he slammed his books shut and shoved them into his backpack; everyone else cleared from the classroom. His leg had been bouncing the whole class, and his fist was clenched on top of the table. He clenched them so hard his knuckles had turned white. “Don’t act dense, Y/N.” You watched as he stormed out of the classroom, leaving you to dwell. That had been the first time he’d genuinely been upset. It didn’t take you long to connect the dots, realizing the pattern. He’d only act like this when he caught you socializing with another man.

This particular time though had left the two of you not talking for days. You and Neville talked a little too much at dinner, apparently. And apparently Neville fixing your hair after it was sticking up, was too much. You weren’t going to listen to Harry criticize him when he was one of your friends. Once you admitted Neville had been one of your friends, he stormed off to his bedroom. He hasn’t talked to you since, Harry.

You didn't know when Harry was going to talk to you, but by the looks of it, he hadn't planned to. You watched him from the end of the Slytherin table as he flirted with Ginny. Sure, he had always been flirty with other girls; because of course, you two were casual. But he hadn’t flirted like this. He was touchy, way too touchy. And he walked Ginny to every class, and you were sure you had seen them kiss. Or they were about to, you looked before you could watch the rest.

The truth was, Harry wasn’t casual to you. You had feelings for him, real feelings. Countless nights you had cried over his hurtful actions, and then the next day he was sweet. It was a never ending cycle. It wasn’t like you could talk to people about it; you truly kept the secret, not even telling your best friend. You could never bring yourself to tell Harry how you felt, because you were sure he didn’t feel the same. You were sure he just thought of you as casual.

It had been exactly a week, today, since you and Harry had spoken. And you are certain now that he didn’t give a shit about you anymore. It was going to be hard, going to watch the Quidditch match later, and acting like you didn’t support him. Harry knew before whose side you were on, whether or not you were in a different house or not. But that’s what you did; you went to the Quidditch match and pretended you loved that Gryffindor was losing.

The match was intense. It had always been this way for Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor, but today was just different. Harry wasn’t playing like he normally would. He seemed slower on his broom, and he still hadn’t caught the snitch. You couldn’t stop watching him, because every once in a while, his eyes would meet with yours in the stands. The match halfway over, and still neither of the seekers had caught the snitch. But then, Harry spotted it, and he was after it. The opposing seeker was right on his tail though, following him intently. Harry reached out and tried to grab the snitch, but he missed. The Slytherin seeker took a shortcut, suddenly, and cut off Harry. Apparently Harry wasn’t watching very well though, because they bumped into each other. And apparently he wasn’t holding on very well either, because he’d fallen from his broom. The Slytherin seeker smirked, and was off after the snitch once more. You let your hand cover your mouth, listening to the eruptions of whispers around you. You stood on your tippy toes to see Harry sitting on the ground, his hand covering the right side of his forehead. He was okay. He’d just gotten a cut it looked like. You couldn’t resist going to check on him though, even if it was just a little cut. You saw him get up from the sandy ground, and found yourself pushing between people. “Excuse me, sorry- Excuse me,” you said as you made your way across the stands, watching Harry go back into the Gryffindor locker loom. The game looked to be resuming though.

You looked behind you to make sure no one was following you into the locker room, and you saw Harry sitting on the bench with a paper towel against his cut. He looked up, seeing who walked in, and his eyes softened for a split second at the sight of a worried you, and then turned into a glare. It was beginning to be a classic for him. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here, Y/N,” your name was like poison escaping from his lips. “Harry please, don’t act like this.” That’s all you could say, it was the only words you could find. You hadn’t even meant to come off so desperate, but you know you did. He scoffed, flipping over the towel to the clean side. The towel was soaked with blood. “Jesus Harry, let me see,” you said with concern, walking over to him quickly. He didn’t protest, lifting the towel enough for you to see. It was a nasty cut, small, but nasty. You looked around the room for anything as you saw a door with a first aid kit hanging on it. “Come here,” you said, grabbing his wrist. He stood up, but jerked his hand back. “I’m not fucking incapable of walking,” he snapped. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t.

The room was small, a little bit bigger than what’s considered to be a large pantry. Backed up against the back wall was an infirmary bed, with 2 chairs beside each end. And behind the door was a sink, with a cabinet above it. “Sit down,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit off the door, closing it and walking over to the sink. You looked through the cabinet for sterile saline to clean his wound; unmistakably feeling his eyes watching you. You found the saline, and gauze along with it. You stood between his legs, dabbing his wound with the wet gauze. He winced, and his face scrunched in pain. The pushing together of his skin only made it bleed more. “Hold pressure,” you said, and Harry did as you said. You dug through the first aid kid and found wound closing tape, exactly what you needed. You got a new gauze, wetting it with saline again.

“Harry, we can’t keep doing this,” you broke the silence, trying to get the wound to stop bleeding; “I can’t keep doing this,” you rephrased. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, his eyes locked with yours. “I know you don’t give a shit anymore. It’s been obvious for a while. I wish you would just end things properly instead of giving me false hope and then continuing to fuck other girls,” your voice was shaky. This was hard. You applied the tape after his wound stopped bleeding, but you didn’t move from your spot. You only backed up to give him room; and Harry still sat on the bed. “What are you talking about, Y/N,” he raised his voice, his eyes darkening. “Oh please, don’t act like I haven’t seen you and Ginny. Don’t act like I didn’t see you kiss her in the hallway. How many more are there that I’m not seeing,” you scoff, arms crossing over your chest to comfort yourself. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, laughing mockingly. That had done it… he’s just pissed you off. “No YOU are ridiculous. We’re supposed to be casual, but I didn’t know that it came with rules. I didn’t know you would get pissed off when I breathed in another man’s direction. This is tiring Harry, truly. I can’t keep doing this and getting hurt,” you were crying now. Whenever he didn’t say anything, you shook your head, “we’re done,” you said. You turned on your heels, ready to walk out.

Just before you could get the door open, you felt Harry grab your wrist, pulling you back and against the wall. “I don’t like seeing you cry,” he said, cageing you between his body and the wall. Then, you slapped him across the face, and you didn’t know why. You hadn’t even thought about it, you just did it. “It’s your fault,” you spat. His hand came up to the side of his cheek, feeling the hotness your hand left behind. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his hand now coming to the side of your face, letting his thumb caress your cheek. “No you’re not. This was never casual for me, Harry. I feel things for you… I have feelings for you,” you admit, raising your voice in front of a rather calm Harry. You open your mouth to say more, but he cuts you off with his lips against yours. You push him back as quickly as you could, “Don’t you dare. You’re dirty, Harry. It’s untelling how many other people you’ve kissed in the past few days,” you scream, pointing a finger at him. You were kind of being a hypocrite now. He just engulfs your hands in his. “I haven’t kissed anyone else, Y/N. I haven’t touched anyone else,” he says softly, looking at you with equally soft eyes. “Why do you keep hurting me then? And how do you explain Ginny, ” you ask, sniffling. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. I just can’t stand to see you even talking to another guy. I feel nothing for Ginny. I swear it was only to make you jealous. I have feelings for you too, Y/N. Can’t you see that?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t even think at that point. You grab his face roughly, smashing your lips against his. He returns the energy, instantly deepening the kiss by squeezing your waist. You feel for the doorknob, locking it. “I’m so sorry,” he said between kisses. “Shut up,” you moan.

He lets his hand slip onto your back, guiding you to the infirmary bed, his lips never leaving yours. Your ass hits the back of the bed, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth. “Let me repay you,” he says, breaking the kiss just to begin kissing your neck. You moan at his words, “how?” He drops to his knees, looking up at you with big eyes full of desire. You get the message, quickly pulling down your skirt. He groans at the sight of your red, lace panties, “you’re still so perfect,” he whispers. His eyes just looked hungry now.

You throw your leg over his shoulder, letting your thigh rest on the space. You tangle your hands in his hair as he presses a kiss to your clothed clit. “I missed you so much,” you say, lips parting at the sight of him looking up at you. He moves your lace to the side, his wet mouth coming in contact with your clit. You shiver at the coldness, pulling at the strands of his hair, producing a groan from him. The vibrations went straight to your core, causing you to whimper in delight.

This wasn’t the first time he ate you out, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. He loved doing it, and every time he did, he ate you out like it was his last meal. He loved watching your face twist in pleasure, and hearing the sweet sounds leave your lips. It was no different this time.

His tongue worked against your sensitive bud; even more sensitive now from getting nothing for a week. You nearly scream when you feel two of his fingers push past your entrance. “Fuck Harry, just like that,” you whine. Your legs were beginning to become weak from the pleasure. You look down at him and find him watching you, observing the pleasure he was giving you. He curled his fingers in your cunt, and you had to cover your mouth. You feared the people all the way outside, in the stands, would hear you. You bring your free hand up and begin touching your clothed nipples. Harry moaned against your clit at the sight.

“I’m so close, Harry,” you moan, not caring how loud you were being now. He inserted another finger in you, and curled his fingers once more, pushing them in and out. He felt for your sweet spot, until he found it. “Shit,” you moan, throwing your head back. You didn’t know whether to focus on the feeling of his tongue flicking sweetly against your clit, or the feeling of his fingers pulsing into you. Either way, you were close. He knew this already, you didn’t have to tell him. He could feel you clench around his fingers. “I’m gonna-” you came before you could even finish your sentence. “Fuck,” you groan, the feeling of your orgasm overtaking your body. Your legs shook weakly.

After the feeling of your orgasm subsided, you freed your leg from his shoulder, and he stood up, helping you put on your skirt. “Am I forgiven,” he said, a smirk on his face as he licked you off of his fingers. You watch him, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m going to do better,” he said, pulling you closer to him. “You’re forgiven,” you said, smiling. The sound of celebrating Gryffindors could be heard coming into the locker room. Apparently they had made a comeback. How were you going to explain why Harry’s hair was messed up, and why both of you were red, and why you had taken so long for such a small cut, and most importantly why you were in the locker room.

#harry james potter smut #harry potter smut #harry james potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x reader #harry potter

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lilreidgirl · 1 month ago

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Bad guy

Summary: Your ex boyfriend, Rafe, thinks he’s a tough guy so you have to put him back in his place, sort of

Warnings: MDNI(18+), oral (fem receiving), nipple play and boob groping, bloody nose and punching, switch!reader and Rafe, TOXIC reader and Rafe, very possessive, swearing, nicknames/name calling (angel, baby, big man, little bitch, etc…), very heavily inspired by bad guy cause I have writers block so I can only write things based off of songs…

WC: ~1.4k

A/N: Heyy guys!! Sorry, I disappeared, I’ll try posting more. But also first post of 2025!!!!

Fucking idiot.

That’s all that ran through your mind when you say the blood splayed out all over his white shirt and the guy you were just flirting with’s face. Red stained all over the sand under the boy’s nose, more and more liquid spewing from it by the second.

“Fuck!” The guy — you think his name was Jonathan or something — screamed, hand coming up to cup his broken nose. “I- I think it’s broken,” he whined, looking around at the people surrounding him with panic in his horse voice, “That motherfucker broke my nose!”

Just as he yelled out the wonderfully endearing term, your gaze fell on said “motherfucker” sneaking away, using the commotion of Jonathan’s screaming to slip away without being seen.

Motherfucker thought he was so smooth, huh?

You scoffed as you followed.

Soon Rafe had lead you both to a completely different bay, a small one almost no one knew about, one he had shown you on your second date.

“Rafe!” You called out his name as you caught up with him, watching as he immediately turned around, slightly feral looking eyes landing on your own.

“What the fuck was that?” You spat out. Of course, you already knew the answer; he got jealous when he saw you — his ex — flirt with another guy and lashed out. What more can one expect from a man, right?

“Oh, you’re asking me that? You’re the one who’s flirting with all these fucking men at parties like a fucking slut! You’re mine! Mine.” Your eyes studied the way he was staring at you, the expression on his face was one you could always recognise easily. The rage, the savagery, the insanity.

You used to be the one to calm him down, to slowly make that look fade away and blossom into a smile. The day you broke things off with him you promised yourself to never be the one to do it again. It wasn’t your responsibility.

“We broke up.” Your words carried a heavy weight with them, the weight crashing down on Rafe almost instantly.

“You belong to me.” He stated, a fire that seemed to have originated straight from hell burned behind his usually piercing blue eyes, now just a dark navy swimming amongst the shadows of the night sky and the calm ocean waves.

“Oh yeah? Think you’re so tough, huh?” You couldn’t have held back the chuckle that left you if you had tried which you definitely didn’t.

“Get on your knees.” Your voice ordered.

“What?” His mien shifted to one you couldn’t quite read.

“C’mon, big man, you heard me.” The tone of your voice was taunting and you couldn’t help but smirk at the way it felt to say it.

“Get. On. Your. Knees. Now.”

With an undercurrent of hesitation, he sank to his knees, bare skin of his shins hitting the sand as he squatted down in front of you.

His eyes travelled down your body, clad in a black bikini and white shorts. The marks he had left on your delicate skin when you were together still slightly present, little pink spots placed where dark hickies once lay, tiny crescents of his nails dug into your thighs, memories of bruises on your knees from all the times he’d made them scrape down onto the ground.

The gawking at your body didn’t go unnoticed by you. You leaned down, bending your knees under you, ass resting on your ankles so that you were eye level with him.

“You always were rough, weren’t you?” Your fingers glided over the slightly rough area of your joints. “Just couldn’t get enough?”

It was obvious that the questions were rhetorical yet he still answered with a short and eager nod.

As a cruel grin grew on your lips, you took hold of Rafe’s hand and guided it behind you. Like clockwork he promptly tugged at one of the strings connecting the bow that was keeping your bikini tight around your chest.

The flimsy piece of swimwear dropped to the ground, covering the little sandy surface that now lay under it.

“You’re so fucking stunning, angel,” he praised, the nickname making you huff away a suppressed laugh.

His large hands reached up, slim fingers skimming over your smooth mounds.

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?” You asked.

“God, yes.” One of his hands enclosed around your right breast, squeezing gently while the other pinched the nipple of your left breast between his fingers, rolling over it with his thumb.

Straightaway your head fell back in pleasure, breaths coming out in small pants as you questioned, “Yeah? Once we start this again, it won’t end.”

To your ears it sounded like a threat, it possibly actually was, but to Rafe’s? He was convinced it was the best promise ever made to him.

“Please.” He sounded desperate and you absolutely loved it.

“Stupid.” You muttered under your breath, unsure if Rafe had heard the whispered comment or not.

“Don’t you see what I do to you, Rafey?” Your fingers clipped into his blonde hair, tugging you closer together as your ass rose from your ankles.

“Your mommy fucking hates me, your sister avoids me at all costs, your friends think I’m crazy and I’d quite literally fuck your daddy if he let me.” A loud whisper left him as you pulled him even closer, roughly shoving his face against your chest. Right away his mouth wrapped around your left nipples, his silken tongue flicking and tasting at your sensitive bud as he moaned.

“I’m the bad guy.”

With a brutal force you hauled his face away from your body and stared down at his eyes as they looked up at you with a hint of surprise.

“And you’re my little bitch, huh?” Your lips met each other in a heated, dark kiss as your hands cascaded all over each other’s bodies.

After a few seconds, when it seemed Rafe had finally come to his senses he jerked backwards, breaking the kiss.

“Don’t call me that.” He spat, anger snd disbelief costing his beautiful features.

“I can call you whatever I want.” You snapped back, dominate overtaking your tone.

Instantaneously Rafe grabbed your thighs and in one fluid motion laid down on the sandy beach and yanked you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist.

“Acting like you can fucking order me around now, huh?” He questioned, eyes boring into your face.

“Outta teach you a lesson.” Was the last thing he said before he turned you around to face the same direction as him and tugged down your shorts and panties, stripping you of all your clothes, before dragging you to hover over his face.

Shaky exhales left you as you felt his hot breath hit your bare core.

“Rafe…” you whined as your hands settled on his shirtless upper body, nails digging into his pecs.

“Shh, angel, just let me take care of you, okay?” Before you could even think about answers he found respite between your supple thighs, his hands tainting your body, kneading and bruising at your soft skin while his rough, curling tongue laps over your soppy cunt.

With loud moans and whines ripping through your body, you dragged your fingers from his bare chest to his neck, wrapping your hands around his throat, feeling his tongue stutter against your clit which made an even more forceful groan escape you.

“Fuck, Rafe!” Your hands tightened around his neck, grinding your sex down onto his nose and mouth. “I’m gonna come!”

Your words made his actions even more vigorous and soon you were reaching your high, moaning his name as he tongue-fucked you through your orgasm.

After the trembling of your legs had slightly calmed down you collapsed forward, resting against his torso.

You felt a small kiss be placed on your sensitive clit, making your body jolt and cry out.

When you’d felt you’d rested enough you got up, quickly grabbing your bikini and shorts and putting them back on.

Rafe sat up and watched you get clothed again, ruffling his hair to get a bit of the sand out.

“So… does this mean we’re back together?” He asked.

“Uhh…”

@emma-e-a

#outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outerbanks x reader #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks x you #outer banks #drew starkey smut #Spotify

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dolphincultleader · 2 months ago

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Who's Minhyeok?

Word Count- 1k

Tw- Curses, Not explicitly stated but it can be read as Mingyu thinking you cheated, reader burns her hand, lmk what i missed

A/N- Saw a insta reel last night and based this on it :)

---

Mingyu was the golden retriever of the relationship. You loved the overall dynamic of the relationship. You guys balanced each other really well.

Yet, being the black-cat didn't stop you from also being the prankster of the duo. You loved seeing him flustered or riled up.

So now, as you were both having a tickle fight, an idea cross your mind. In hindsight, it was an awful idea. But hindsight is after it happens.

Tossing and turning as you both tickled each other, laughter echoed through the apartment. Moments like these are which gives you the energy to keep going everyday.

As he flipped you over, still both of you laughing loudly, an intrusive thought crossed. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but you weren't thinking straight at that time.

"Minhyeok! Stopp" you blurted out laughing. Mingyu's mind malfunctioned for a second. Did you really say Minhyeok or did he just imagine it? No, he's sure thats what you said.

He halted his movements. Eyes wide.

"Who's Minhyeok?"

"What?"

He was still on top of you. His wide eyes bore into yours. His expression made you feel really guilty, but there was no turning back once you've started. He brushes his knuckles against your hair.

"Babe, you said Minhyeok"

"No I didn't"

"Babe I heard you" he got up from his position, getting on his feet and hovering above your lying figure. Sadness was very apparent in his eyes. It honestly made you feel an immerse amount of guilt.

"Babe, really, I didn't."

"Yes you did" he bent slightly in front of you, both hands on your knees as he looked deep into your eyes. Usually, the gesture would more often than not lead to both of you fucking. Not this time though.

"Babe, who's Minhyeok?" He asked, his voice even lower now.

"Babe, I don't know a Minhyeok"

"Yes you do, you said Minhyeok" his voice cracked slightly, he avoided eye contact. You tried to wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him closer while muttering a small "no i didn't"

He pulled away, shoving his hands in his pockets. Why the fuck did you ever think this was going to be funny?

"Babe, wanna tell me something?" He asked sternly. This time looking straight at you.

"Love, it's just a prank."

He narrowed his eyes at you, betrayed.

"What the fuck y/n"

"I am sorry..."

"That wasn't funny, at all" he said, clearly unamused.

"I am sorry, I wasn't thinking straight."

"Clearly" he muttered as he made his way out. You quickly got on your feet and followed suit.

"Where...?"

"I was supposed to meet Wonwoo...I forgot." He said, his voice cold. It wasn't completely unwarranted. But you didn't except him to shut off so abruptly.

He left before you managed to say anything more. The first thing that you thought as you left was-

Fuck I messed up.

---

As the next few hours passed, you spent the time beating yourself up (metaphorically, of course). What on earth possessed you to think that was funny?

You didn't know what to do. Should you wait for him? Should you keep apologising the moment he comes in? Should you just give him space and go to sleep?

You boiled tea on the stove. Milk tea always comforted you. So now, you zoned out as you stared at the milk slowly boiling. Despite quite literally staring at the kettle, you were so unfocused that you didn't realise the milk boiling too much and overflowing. Nor did you hear the sound of the front door opening.

As you were broken out of your trance by the scene in front of you, you rushed to turn the heat off and get the pot off the stove. Without a fucking glove.

You let out a shriek as pain shot to your finger. The pent up tears that you refused to let out since Mingyu left finally surfaced. Your finger was burnt but your chest hurt more. With guilt and hate towards yourself. What the fuck was wrong with you.

Despite the burn hurting, tears streaming down your face and sobbing loudly, you couldn't find the strength in yourself to move.

Being able to hear everything from outside, Mingyu rushed inside.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked harshly, but his voice was laced with concern. He made his way towards you and pulled your burnt finger under the sink's cold water.

It hurt so fucking much. You kept sobbing. Mingyu felt his heart breaking slowly. Mad or not, seeing you in pain always made him feel uneasy.

After five minutes, the pain went down and he pulled your hand out of the water. He glared at you as you squirmed under his gaze.

"Ermm..."

"What the fuck is your problem?" You flinched at his tone, but it was your fault after all.

"You can't just pull pranks like that. That wasn't a fucking prank. It was wasn't funny." He went said. Even though he wasn't raising his voice, his tone made shivers run down your spine.

"You know whats even more annoying?"

"Wha-"

"You pull shit like that and obviously I am mad. Who couldn't be mad if their partner pulls shit like that? And then you pull shit like this" he paused, gesturing to your finger.

"-And make me melt. It's fucking annoying. You're so cute it's hard to be mad at you for long!" He ended, breathing heavily. You stared at him with wide eyes. What just happened.

"I am sorry for being cute...?" You spoke hesitantly. He scoffed at that. For a second, you panicking. Did you say the wrong thing? Then you noticed a small smile on his lips. Small, but present.

"No but seriously, I am really sorry for earlier..." you told him.

"Wanna make up for it?" He asked, a grin playing on his lips as he inched closer to you. His gaze clearly gave away what he meant.

"Mhm"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. Contrary to the popular belief, Mingyu isn't gentle. At all.

"Why don't you show me how sorry you are?"

---

Masterlist

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moonselune · 3 months ago

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Menzoberranzan Nights (NSFW)

Sub!Gale x Top!F!reader

(reader is from an unnamed noble drow house)

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

CW: smut, pwp, overstimulation, praise kink, slight breeding kink, Gale is a sub, this is so smutty y'all | MDNI

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Gale sat on the edge of the bed in your chambers, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. He had been waiting for what felt like an eternity, his mind racing with worries and regrets. You had brought Gale back to your noble house in Menzoberranzan, you had to meet with your matron and the situation was simply unavoidable. So you had prepared Gale, dressing him in robes that would help him fit in and got him an array of books for him to read through, setting him up in your bedchambers. Gale had joked about whether you were going to leave him a bowl of water as well. You kissed him, promising not to be long and told him under no circumstances does he leave this room.

But, of course, Gale thought he knew better. He thought this was a perfect opportunity to observe lolthsworn drow matriarchal life, to see how you grew up. His plan was simple, to be seen and not heard and just keep his head down.

The concubines of the estate had other ideas, however. They had heard that one of their esteemed daughters of the house had brought back a surface pet and how they loathed the competition, especially from a human.

It didn't take long before they found him, his pale pink skin a stark contrast to their dusk and ice tones. They had teased and taunted him, picked at his robes, his hair. Throwing barbed words and snide remarks, assuring him that they would ensure you would never want to look upon him again. Just as a blade was drawn, your sharp voice cut through the air like a whip. The concubines cowered and stammered, trying to play it off that they were helping Gale, who had found himself lost in the estate.

You told Gale to return to your chambers immediately and that you would deal with the concubines first before dealing with him.

This is how Gale found himself, sat on the edge of your bed, heart beating like a caged bird. He had only seen that look on your face a few times. Mostly on the battlefield and once after the two of you had a heated argument that had melted into an encounter that left Gale unable to walk the next morning.

As the door creaked open, Gale's breath caught in his throat, and he rose to his feet, ready to beg for forgiveness.

You entered the room, your presence commanding and formidable. Gale's words stumbled over each other as he tried to apologize, but before he could utter a single syllable, you closed the distance between the two of you in swift strides.

With a rough and possessive grip, you grabbed Gale by the collar, silencing his apologies with a fierce kiss. The force of your lips against his sent a jolt of electricity through his body, overwhelming his senses with the intensity of your desire.

Gale stumbled backward, his back hitting the edge of the bed as you pushed him onto the soft mattress with urgency. His heart raced with a mix of fear and exhilaration as he surrendered to your dominant embrace, his mind reeling with the intoxicating sensation of htouch. Biting his lower lip as you pulled away, you sat up and straddled him at his hips.

`'What did I tell you not to do?"

"Leave your chambers without you."

"And what did you do?"

"Leave your chambers without you."

"The concubines are petty, jealous things. They'll do anything to get ahead of each other. Seeing a beautiful human like you be my dowager is like a knife twisted in their prideful hearts. You are lucky that I appeared when I did." You lectured him, looking down at him with half lidded eyes.

"I assure you I would have been able to handle-mph!" Gale's words were cut short by your fingers pushing into his mouth, pushing his tongue down.

"Your hubris, my love, has no place here. Not while you're in Menzoberranzen, not while you're in my chambers, not while you're mine." You told him, you removed your fingers from his mouth and admired the saliva before bringing it to your own lips. Gale lay back in shocked admiration, his hands snaking onto your hips as a familiar coil begins to build within him. However, he is promptly stopped when you grab his wrists and pins them to the side of his head. "Tut tut, and here I thought you were a quick learner."

"S-seems I'm in need of a good teacher." Gale breathed out, shuddering under the passionate ferocity of your red eyes. He kept his hands pressed against the bed even as you released them. The corner of your mouth quirked up in approval and you rolled your hips forward causing friction between their cores.

"I cannot offer you good - but ruthless, exhaustive and pleasurably yearnful - that I can offer." You dragged your finger nails down Gale's chest, pulling his tailored robe apart with ease, exposing his bare skin to you. You looked upon him like a predator who had finally caught their prey, ready to devour their well-earned feast.

Gale swallowed with a nervous excitement as he felt your nails drag across his skin. He could no longer ignore the pleasure that stirred within him but dutifully he kept his hands pinned to the bed.

"Perhaps I am too harsh on you, how can I expect you to act like a concubine of House Baenre when I haven't been treating you as such?" You scraped your nails lightly, creating patterns with the inflamed skin. "You know there is a reason why the concubines clamour for my attention, bend to my every whim so eagerly, and detest you so vehemently."

You leant down and peppered the red scratch marks with kisses before licking a long stripe up Gale's sternum causing him to gasp and as he did, you hummed in satisfaction.

"Whereas the other matrons of my noble house use the concubines for their mere pleasurable whims, seeking only their satisfaction." You swiped your fingers across Gale's exposed nipple, smiling as his breath hitched. You began to rock your hips backwards and forward grinding on his hardening bulge. "I much prefer using them entirely until they are begging me to just devour them. Is that what you want my love?"

"By the Gods yes," Gale rushed and his hands twitched above him, desperate to grab you but he sensed better. You laughed, not cruelly or mockingly but darkly, like prey that had stumbled dutifully into your trap. To his relief you grabbed Gale's hands and placed them roughly on your hips, incentivising him to squeeze as roughly as he wanted to. It was clear that that would be his only form of control.

You leaned down and kissed Gale's neck softly before biting viciously, being sure that it would leave a mark. You continued this down his body, continuing your hip movements and causing filthy whimpers from Gale. Once you were happy that he was properly marked, you relented looking at your handiwork with pride.

"Undress me." The command was quick and blunt and Gale wasted no time in obeying, as soon as the words had left your mouth he had your clothes off, his hands piously finding their way back to your hips. Your breasts fell perkily into his eyeline, teasing him. He began to feel left out that his clothes were still on, but you picked up on it immediately and pouted mockingly at him. "My poor love, what a shame for you that you look so beautiful when you're needy."

As you teased him your hand snaked past his back and your fingertips toyed with his briefs. Gale, wanting to earn your favour and encourage your touch, leant up and kissed your stomach only to be brutally pushed back down.

"So impatient," You lightly scolded and removed your fingers from his briefs. Gale couldn't help but whine, gripping your hips with fervor, trying to ignore the joy it brought his love. "But I am not one without mercy."

You offered him your hand, putting it in front of his face. Gale snaked his hand from your hip, up your side and down your arm until he clasped his fingers around yours as if to press a mere kiss to it. But he knew such poor worship was not deserving of the deity above him.

He pressed numerous chaste kisses to your finger leading to your fingernails before taking your fingers in his mouth. He knew this had earned your favour as you began to toy with his briefs again with your free hand. Gale continued to kiss and suck your fingers, only pausing to moan when you finally touched his bare aching member. As your touch continued you pushed further into Gale's mouth until he was almost gagging on your fingers. You smiled and eventually removed your fingers, swapping hands with the one that was toying with his tip. The added slick of saliva with his precum caused Gale to shiver and he involuntarily jerked his hips forward. Undeterred you continued to grip his tip, thumbing it with a torturous delicacy.

Your cunt was dripping as you continued to straddle and rock Gale's hips, his painfully erect cock pressing up against the plush of your ass. How badly he craved to be in you, how badly he began to crave release.

You continued to torture his tip, looking back accordingly to witness the dribbles of precum and Gale tried his hardest to hold back his whimpers.

Eventually leaving his tip alone, you paid attention to his balls, both full and aching from your teasing. You held them in one hand, giving them a taunting squeeze that illicit deep moans from the wizard as he continued his pointless thrusting.

"Please, my love, my goddess I beg of you-"

"-Of what my darling? All you need is to ask." You told him sweetly, as if the honey of your words masked your cruelty. As just as Gale went to speak, you increased the grip on his balls causing him to moan out in delight and his words lose their way on his tongue. You allowed him to recover before moving to the base of his cock and stroking it tightly just as he went to speak. He was close, you knew he was, but he wasn't allowed to come just yet.

Cruelly just as Gale's orgasm had begin to build you quickly got off of him entirely, walking away from the bed. Gale all but cried out and followed like a lost puppy, scrambling from the bed to grab your hand and pull you back.

But that wasn't the game you were playing.

As soon as Gale moved to pull you back, you swiftly immobilised him, causing him to fall to his knees. Satisfied you sat on the edge of your bed and simply held out a leg to him. Gale took it with gratitude and immediately began to kiss up your leg, his cock throbbing painfully.

As he diligently made his way up to your thigh he tried to hide how he positioned your leg into his crotch as he attempted to create friction to pursue his pleasure. You were well aware of this, of course, and relished as the blush of desperation and humiliation flooded your lover's cheeks, he was quite literally trying to hump you leg like a dog in heat.

You played along for a short while until you sensed his all too familiar coil about to snap. At which point you placed your foot on his chest and pushed him downward, straddling his hips whilst ruining his climax.

Gale threw his head back in frustration as a string of curse worse flooded his mouth. He was desperate, truly desperate. You could have asked him to condemn Mystra and devote himself to Lolth and he would have in a heartbeat.

"Oh my love," You cooed as tears pooled in the corner of Gale's eyes. Your hands cupping his face, relishing how his cock throbbed painfully against your ass. "You are doing so well for me, such a beautiful pet you are, my darling wizard."

Ordinarily Gale would have protested at such condescension but all he could do was lean into your touch and nod his head. You rewarded him with a soft kiss to his lips, turning vicious as you tugged his bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away. Gale gasped and chased your lips upwards. You lifted up so you were now sat on his lap, his cock resting in front of your wet cunt.

You kissed him again, this time harder, tongue dominating his mouth, as you did your hands trailed down his glistening abdomen, fingertips resting lightly on his cock. Gale responded accordingly, filthily moaning into your mouth, like a whore. You continued to kiss him roughly, all teeth and tongue. A stark opposite to the way your fingers deftly played with his weeping cock. You focused your touch on the pulsing mushroom head, practically playing with the precum that surrounded it, lightly fingering the slit it was leaking from.

Gale continued to pant and moan into your mouth, his hips slyly rutting upwards into your touch. It earned him several bites on his lips, one drawing blood, but he did not care.

Finally, like a miracle had been gifted to him from the heavens, you began to languidly pump his cock, allowing his orgasm to build again. Gale drew back from your lips for air and pressed his forehead against your shoulder, eyes screwing shut as he chased the high, the wet slapping noise coming from below him driving him closer to the edge. But he would not be fooled again.

"Please my love, please," The begs fell almost naturally from his mouth and spilled into your skin as he pressed pathetic kisses across your breast in an effort to persuade you. You smiled and continued your pumping earning a primal grunt from your lover, but as soon as the praise stopped, overtaken by his pathetic whimpers and cries for release, you withdrew your hand and watched as he fell apart. "No...no-no..."

Whining, he pressed a kiss up your neck, his own hand instinctually moving to finish the job - a fatal mistake. You smacked his hand, before moving it to his neck. It snaked up to his jaw and tightly forced him to look up at you. He could see your red eyes flitter over him, analysing him, before your look of disappointment turned into a cruel smirk. With one hand gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you, you other hand returned back to his cock and you returned to the rhythmic languid pumping.

Stuck in your clasp, quite literally, Gale gasped as he felt the familiar wave of pleasure begin to build in him, his thighs now shaking, tears of pleasure freely falling. You forcefully pulled Gale towards you and dominated his mouth once more, and Gale thought he would die from the onslaught of building pressure and the increasing lack of oxygen.

He moaned into you, hips involuntarily bucking as he finally reached his peak, spurts of thick white cum decorating his body and yours Dutifully, you continued to pump his cock, milking him for all that he had until his cock was creamed in his own fluids.

Gale moaned and flinched at the overstimulation of your touch, nestling his damp forehead into your chest for comfort. When you were done you stood up, letting your hand trail up Gale's body till your index finger caught on his chin and tilted his head upwards. You quirked your head behind you, motioning for him to follow you back onto the bed.

Kindly, you helped him up, but the sincerity of your actions was merely a front for your real plan. With a playful shove, you pushed him onto the bed, with Gale landing on his back. A groan tore through him from the sensation of the silk sheets on his sensitive skin.

You joined him, your body hovering above his, admiring how his cock lay twitching against his stomach, practically white with the amount of cum on it. Praises slipped dilligenty from your tongue. “Oh Gale, my love, all mine.”

It seemed sense had started to come back to the wizard as he let out a short breathy laugh. His hand caresses your thigh. “Truly I’m all yours.”

“You always know what to say.” You smirked and you leaned down to place a soft yet passionate kiss on Gale’s lips. You felt Gale relax completely under your touch, probably believing you had had your fun with him.

How wrong he was.

You pulled away and peppered kisses across his face and down his neck, crowning the blooming hickeys with your lips. Between kisses you continued to compliment him, knowing the reaction it stirred within him.

“Your intellect beats any high wizard of my house.” Though your words were potentially blasphemous, though if Lolth herself tooke issue and demanded explanation then, there was plenty of evidence that you were simply corrupting the previous chosen of Mystra.

Gale hummed and put a hand on the small of your back, relishing in the pleasure he felt from your words and touch.

“Your heart is boundless, your desire ceaseless and your ambition, by the gods Gale, your ambition is indomitable and I utterly adore you for it, my love." You murmured to him, hips sneakily beginning to roll into his as you sat up, hands planted on his chest.

Gale tilted his head at you, trying to figure out what wonderful machinations were forming in your mind. He knew you well enough that no matter how sincere your words were, there was always something behind them, and he hadn't missed how you were still slowly rocking against him. You removed one of your hands and took Gale's, holding it as you placed it on your own sternum and pushed down till your hands rested on your abdomen.

"So perfect, and worthy, I believe.." You smiled down at him. Before Gale could figure out what you had meant by your words, you moved forward and slipped Gale's creamed and hardening cock into your sopping cunt. It slipped in with ease and Gale threw his head back into the pillows, a guttural moan tearing through him. His cock was already overstimulated, now he had you tight walls clamping around him. He thought he was going to die.

You gasped, your smile widening in pleasure, one hand remaining on your abdomen with his the other moving to Gale's free hand and interlocking it, increasing the speed of your bouncing.

"You know the concubines would slaughter to be you right now, your spilled seed finding its way into my womb. The chance of your child to swell inside of me. It is their highest honour, their greatest ambition." You panted, you had been teasing yourrself the entire time by toying with Gale and now you were finally taking what you wanted. "A prestige I give you so freely and know you will deliver on."

"Yes, ah fuck, my love-" Gale grunted as the pain and pleasure of overstimulation intermingled, your safe word teetering on his lips. Yet how could he deprive himself of hearing such primal words? From feeling such primal things? With a newfound vigour he met your hips with eager rutting, the hand that once rested on your back, now moved to your hip and he gripped it with a bruising ferocity.

"Ah-yes!" You moaned, head thrown back as Gale sat up, his mouth latching onto your breast, kissing it sloppily, biting it hungrily. You cupped the back of his head, fingers tangling into his brown locks of hair, holding him close. However. the waves of building pleasure did not distract you entirely from your intentions. "Fill me, Gale, l-let my womb hold our children."

Gale moaned again, moving onto your other breast, filthy words leaving his mouth that you thought would have been too impure for him to ever come across, let alone say.

"Gale, I-I'm close" You gasped as the coil of pleasure threatened to snap. Gale continued, dutifully, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. Obscene wet noises came from the joining of your skin and shared bodily fluid - and it was music to each of your ears. The two of you held onto each other tighter, lips interlocking in a passionate and desperate embrace as you came, seeing white, you cunt gripping and gushing around Gale's cock sending him over the edge, fulfilling his order, as ropes of thick cum painted the linings of your cunt.

As the two of you came down from your high, Gale fell back onto the bed drawing you close to him. As you caught your breath, you pressed a firm kiss to the side of his jaw before removing yourrself from him, shared fluids staining the silk sheets.

"..That was phenomenal.." Gale breathed out as he pulled you back close to him, in disapproval you playfully nipped him - this is not how this went. You moved him so his head lay nestled on your breasts and Gale could not protest - nor did he want to. He quite literally had nothing left in him to verbally or physically to play pretend. Besides he was more than happy to remain there. He snaked his arms around your waist, one hand resting on your abdomen.

Though he knew your words were most likely thrown out in passion, they had engraved themself in his very being. "Be careful, my love, if the rest of our nights are spent like that, I may never want to leave Menzoberranzen."

You let out a small chuckle, fingers combing through Gale's silver-streaked hair. "That's if you can survive the rest of our nights here, my love."

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

woooweee so this is one of my first pieces of writing for an OC I had, which I have adapted to be x reader, which may explain some pacing issues but anyways i hope you guys liked it ! - Seluney xox

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wisecura · 3 months ago

Text

Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.2 ⁭ ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.3

p.2

AN: Thank you for reading part 2! Again each of these will be around 3k in length. Enjoy!

warnings: i'm putting these here for future chapters too, and ill sprinkle some in as I go. I want to make it clear, there is no underage sex, but later on there will be some more raunchy shit. this is somewhat non-canon compliant-make it up as I go

-ok for the real warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

Another

Cleaning had always been second nature to you, a skill drilled into you by your clan as a symbol of discipline and propriety.

The ways of a proper young lady.

Back then, it had been another way to meet their rigid standards, but now, in Toji’s apartment, it served a different purpose.

You weren’t trying to meet anyone’s expectations. It felt more like you were creating a space that felt livable, even comforting. As you scrubbed and tidied, remnants of your clan’s demands linger in your mind.

Megumi stayed holed up in his room, avoiding you, though you suspected it wasn’t out of rudeness.

Maybe he was still figuring you out, testing the waters before deciding how to interact. You couldn't blame him. This was all new and strange for both of you.

As you scrubbed the counters and sorted through laundry, you tried to keep yourself busy, hoping to quiet the restless hum of your thoughts. The spiraling.

But the silence of the apartment only amplified them, leaving you with little to do but reflect.

You thought long and hard about your next move—about what you wanted and what you were willing to do. You hadn’t expected to make it this far, away from the suffocating grip of your clan, away from the rules they’d meticulously instilled into you. This already felt like a step up.

No one was yelling. No one was crying. And most importantly, no one was punishing you for merely existing.

And for once, you could breathe.

But could you settle here? Could you turn this into a real home? The thought carried a weight you hadn’t anticipated, especially when you considered who you were married to.

Toji Fushiguro.

The infamous thirty-something gambler whose reputation preceded him. His name carried weight—none of it good. You’d only heard whispers about him before, rumors about the "Sorcerer Killer" who couldn’t see curses, but had carved a place for himself in a world that didn’t want him. The name he was making for himself wasn’t the kind anyone would aspire to have.

And now, he was your husband.

Could he truly be better than what you’d left behind?

Marriage had never been a simple thing for people like you. It was, more often than not, a transaction, a tool for power and alliances, never a partnership.

You'd settled your peace with that. But you couldn’t be sure what kind of man Toji would turn out to be. So far, he was unpredictable—evasive, blunt, and not exactly brimming with warmth.

When you first met Toji, you’d been terrified.

His deep voice, gruff and laced with irritation, felt like a warning in itself. And he hadnt been happy when you first saw him. His towering, muscular frame only added to the daunting image.

Many clan marriages ended in misery. Beaten wives, suffocating rules, and vows that served only to bind and restrict.

The unknown had loomed large that day.

You’d been genuinely shocked when Toji had even shown up to the meeting. After all, he already had a history—a wife before you, a notorious rebellious streak, and a reputation soaked in blood.

What had happened to her?

The question lingered in your mind, twisting your thoughts into a frantic swirl as you tried to piece together what kind of man he was and what exactly you might be walking into.

Not that you had much of a choice.

To your relief, he left shortly after bringing you home, without forcing himself on you or issuing a set of house rules. But even without his demands, you already knew your place.

How could you not?

The weight of the clan’s expectations had been drilled into you for as long as you could remember.

Still, the questions remained.

Could you trust him? Could he truly protect you from the very people who had pushed you into this marriage? Or would he become like the others you’d seen—the cruel, controlling men who treated their wives as tools?

If things got sticky, you could run. But the thought terrified you. Your clan wasn’t known for letting their investments go so easily. They had their motives, their expectations for you, and you knew better than to think they’d let you walk away unscathed.

The marriage was a means to an end, and the moment you stopped being useful, they wouldn’t hesitate to dissolve it. Drag you back, kicking and screaming.

The questions would start soon if you didn’t make an appearance at the estate for a ‘visit.’ You’d have to come up with something to keep them satisfied, a way to buy yourself more time.

But would it be enough? You weren’t about to stoop to spying, but maybe if you offered them the bare minimum, it could hold them off. Still, you knew the risk.

Back to the suffocating walls of their estate. Back to the life you’d fought so hard to escape. Back to another arranged marriage—this time, likely to someone far worse.

Someone who wouldn’t tolerate even a shred of independence.

You had no illusions about what they were capable of. They’d find you. They’d make an example of you. The consequences were always swift, brutal, and served as a warning to others.

The only thing keeping you from that fate was this house.

Toji.

For all his flaws, for all the uncertainty that surrounded him, Toji was the barrier between you and the life you so desperately wanted to escape.

The clan couldn’t touch you here—not while you were under his roof. His name and infamous reputation were enough to keep them at bay for now.

But why had he even agreed to this marriage? It didn’t serve him. If anything, it seemed like another chain, another tie he’d likely resent. What had convinced him to take on a responsibility that did him no favors?

The thought nagged at you as you clung to the fragile sense of safety he unknowingly provided.

For now, you had to play the game carefully. Toji was unpredictable, but at least he wasn’t actively cruel. You’d take your chances with him over returning to the hell you’d left behind.

And yet, still, he hadn’t returned. When would he come home? Sure it'd only been a day, but...

When lunchtime rolled around, you prepared food for both yourself and Megumi. Doubling the portions, you were glad he was starting to warm up to you, even if only slightly. Knocking softly on his door, you waited for a moment before it creaked open.

Megumi stood there, his expression unreadable as usual, but he took the plate with a small nod.

“Thanks,” he muttered before retreating back into his room, the door closing firmly behind him.

So, you ate alone.

It wasn’t the solitude that stung the most—it was the familiarity of it.

Sitting at the quiet table, your thoughts drifted to the countless meals you’d eaten alone back at the clan house.

You’d thought leaving that life behind would make things different, that here, in this little apartment, you could find something resembling peace.

But for now, the silence was deafening.

You reminded yourself to remember that this was better and you needed to be patient.

At least you knew Megumi wasn’t cruel or rude—just guarded. He was still so young, still figuring out his place in all of this.

So, you cleared your plate, brushed off the dull ache settling in your chest, and told yourself that this was temporary.

It was just a matter of time.

Later in the day, you decided to step out for groceries. The apartment was practically empty, the fridge holding little more than condiments and a few questionable leftovers.

You couldn’t fathom how Toji and Megumi had been surviving off such meager scraps. You’d noticed the state of things your first day there, picking up a few essentials just to scrape by. But today, you decided it was time to stock up properly.

Standing by the front door, you hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Megumi’s room. A small part of you debated whether to ask him to come along. It might have been nice to have the company, and perhaps the outing could help you two get closer. But you quickly pushed the thought aside.

This wasn’t his responsibility. It was yours. You were the one trying to build a home here, the one who had stepped into this role. So you would need to do it.

With a quiet sigh, you grabbed your shopping list and headed out the door. It wasn’t a long walk to the nearby market, but as you made your way down the street.

By the time you returned, your arms were weighed down with bags. Maybe you’d gotten carried away, but everything seemed so necessary. Stumbling through the front door, you dumped the bags onto the counter with a relieved sigh.

Megumi peeked out from the doorway, alerted by the sound. “You’re back?”

“Yeah,” you said, turning slightly to smile at him, still catching your breath. “Got some food for tonight.”

He frowned, his gaze shifting to the hefty bags on the counter.

“Didja walk all this back yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you replied with a small hum, stretching your back before reaching to start putting things away.

Before you could even grab the first item, Megumi stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he gently nudged you aside.

“Go rest. I’ll put it ‘way,” he muttered without any real bite.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, but decided not to argue. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen table, watching him move around the room.

His movements were deliberate and efficient as he pulled items from the bags. He inspected each one carefully, as though weighing its importance, before putting it into its proper place.

For a moment, you forgot the weight of everything else and simply watched.

Megumi, for all his prickliness, had his own way of showing appreciation—even if he didn’t say it out loud. It was hard not to notice how much care he put into something so simple.

He still reminded you of a grumpy old cat—aloof, guarded, but with moments of surprising thoughtfulness.

A small laugh escaping you as the thought crossed your mind.

Megumi glanced over his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his tone flat, though the faint red at the tips of his ears betrayed some building irritation.

“Nothing,” a small, teasing smile playing on your lips. “Just thinking about how teenagers can be so stubborn sometimes.”

“Stubborn?” he parroted, his tone disbelieving. “I’m not stubborn. You’re acting like I’m some little kid or something.”

The amused smile tugging at your lips only grew as you tilted your head at him. “Well, aren’t you? Just a little bit, maybe?”

And his scowl deepened, the flush on his cheeks darkening. The faint hint of embarrassment making him look unbearably adorable.

“I’m not a kid. I’m almost fourteen,” he muttered, his voice firm, though it teetered dangerously close to a pout.

Your laugh now unrestrained, unable to resist teasing him just a bit more. It seemed so easy for him to ruffle up. “Fourteen, huh? Practically a grown-up. My bad.”

Megumi’s gaze darted away briefly before snapping back to you, his tone quieter but still holding a note of defiance. “You’re not that much older than me. You’re what? Sixteen?”

You shook your head, unable to hide your amusement. “Sixteen? Try eighteen, Megumi. I’m officially an adult, thank you very much.”

His eyes narrow, as if processing the information. “Eighteen?” he muttered under his breath, his skepticism clear. “You don’t look eighteen.”

Feigning offense, you straightened your posture. “Well, I am,” you said with mock indignation. “And as the adult here, I think I get to call you a kid.”

Megumi huffed, crossing his arms. “You don��t act like an adult. You’re more like a bossy older sister.”

That made you grin even wider. Was that supposed to be an insult? “Bossy older sister, huh? I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He avoided your gaze, pretending to focus on folding one of the empty grocery bags.

“Take it however you want,” he muttered, his tone clipped, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said playfully. “But I’m still older than you, and that makes you the kid, like it or not.”

Megumi frowned but didn’t argue further. Instead, he busied himself with the counter, his lips pressed into a firm line.

“But I’m not a kid,”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, your tone kind and teasing.

“Alright, alright. You’re not a kid. You’re a very mature almost-fourteen-year-old. Better?”

Turning his attention back to the counter, he muttered, “Whatever,”

You leaned back in your chair, watching him with a mix of fondness and curiosity.

Megumi had a way talking. A way of instilling fondness into the back of you mind. You already really liked the kid.

The way he tried to act older than he was—it was all so very… Megumi-esque. And you hadn't even known him for long. Not even a day. He had such predictably, you felt like you already knew him.

But kids with that much prickliness tend to have more going on.

“You know,” you said gently, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to rush to grow up so fast. Fourteen—or almost fourteen—is a good age to just…be.”

Megumi glanced at you, a blank look on his face. As if he wasn’t even considering what you were saying. “I’m not rushing anything. I just don’t want to be treated like some helpless kid.”

Now that got your attention.

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “I don’t think you’re helpless, Megumi. Not at all…I just think it’s okay to let people care about you sometimes. It doesn’t make you helpless.”

He didn’t reply, his gaze flickering back to the counter, but you could see the wheels turning in his head.

Then he lingered. The groceries were already put away, yet he didn’t leave. He didn’t know why he stayed. Maybe he didn’t want to admit it.

But his actions spoke louder than words ever could: maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind you being there. Doesn’t mind being around you. Psycho-ex of his dad’s or otherwise.

While making dinner, Megumi hovered close to your elbows. His dark eyes trailing your every movement with a quiet intensity that didn’t suit the task at hand.

He didn’t say a word, but his focus was unshakable, soaking in every detail. Your cooking so far had been phenomenal. Enough to make the kid jealous.

He wanted to learn, that much was clear—wanted to memorize the steps, the measurements, the little techniques you used. You had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just curiosity.

His silence didn’t bother you. If anything, it gave you the perfect opportunity to chatter away, filling the room with a one-sided conversation that you hoped wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

You explained every step meticulously, breaking it down like a cooking show. Megumi didn’t interrupt or huff at you. Instead, he absorbed it all like a sponge, his head tilting slightly when you mentioned something new.

“Toji must not be much of a cook,” you remarked at one point, glancing at him with a teasing smile. His lips twitched upward for the briefest moment, a ghost of a smile that made your chest tighten with warmth.

Even when you explained the most basic things, like how to dice an onion properly, Megumi listened as though it were the most important lecture of his life.

It made sense—Megumi was still young, and cooking had always been considered a woman’s role in traditional clan life. And considering Toji’s seemingly chaotic lifestyle, and the lack of any obvious maternal figure, it was no wonder this felt new to him. Still, the conversation flowed a little easier that evening.

You hadn’t had many interactions with the other children back at the clan estate—everything there had been too rigid, too suffocating for anything resembling a healthy relationship.

It was surprise you were even social adept to talk with him now. You felt like you were finally getting to experience a somewhat normal family life.

And even in those moments, there was still a frigid layer of distance he maintain between you two—a protective barrier he refused to let you pass.

Distrusting, yes, but not beyond reach.

He was still trying to figure you out, sizing you up, before deciding whether you were even worth the effort of trusting.

Why the hell was this kid so frosty? Was it Toji? The absence of a mother? Or something else entirely? You weren’t sure, but the guarded way Megumi carried himself—the abrasiveness, the defensive huffiness—stirred something in you.

There had been plenty of kids like him back in the clan house. Some were cold and indifferent, their walls impenetrable.

Others carried arrogance like armor, wielding it to hide their insecurities.

But the ones who stayed with you—the ones who truly stuck in your memory—were those too weak to defend themselves, cast aside for showing too much emotion.

Beaten into shape.

Megumi wasn’t like that, obviously. But the thought of him enduring anything similar made you feel...protective. Kids don’t get that icy from a normal childhood, after all.

When you finally sat down to eat, the food, obviously, turned out fantastic.

Megumi, ever stoic, simply nodded in approval as he ate, but you caught the way his chopsticks moved a little faster than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a small tinge of pride.

“Not bad, right?” you teased lightly, hoping to draw a reaction from him.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours for a fleeting second before he mumbled,

“It’s good.”

Another almost-smile.

It was your second day in and this kid would be the death of you.

p.3?

AN: Thank you for reading! Please reblog and like if you enjoy this series!

I will also be posting updates here:

https://www.tumblr.com/communities/obsessedjjk

come home

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myownwholewildworld · 7 months ago

Text

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 3

chapter 2 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 4

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're at your wits' end with joel. so you have to do something about it.

warnings: 18+. nsfw. mdni. mention of sarah's death. probably absolute filth. some slapping. explicit smut with a plot. softdom!joel. biting. masturbation (m and f). finger sucking. unprotected piv. a bit of ass play. pet names (darling, sweetheart). sir kink. a slight breeding kink. some violence towards the end. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.

a/n: buckle up, my friends. i apologise in advance, but this has been coming for the last two chapters lmao. who am i to deny them? no one. all interactions welcome! enjoy and thank you all for reading! <3

w/c: ~3k.

It had been a week since Joel almost lost his mind, and he still couldn’t comprehend what had possessed him to do such a thing. For a split second he had lost control of his own actions and gave in to his yearning. A yearning for human connection he did not know he had. The last few months had been living hell, to say the least.

Every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, Joel could only see Sarah’s face. Her smile, her warm hugs, her giggles, her vivacity. And then, the light abandoning her eyes, her blank expression, her limp limbs as he would press her dearly against his chest. The desperation he felt then had still not deserted him. He had been a man of God because that was what his family had imparted him, but since Sarah’s death his faith was wavering. Why would God take her away from him? Sarah was an angel sent from above, she should have not suffered such demise. So, either God was a cruel entity, or an imaginary one.

That night Joel did not even attempt to get some rest so decided to do the first night shift instead. They were still at the same cave as it had proved to be a good spot to rest up and plan what their next steps would be. Tommy had suggested they checked out the quarantine zones the government had set up in big cities, but Joel was not so keen on the idea. In the last nine months since the outbreak, they had been witness to too many ungodly acts ― all committed by the living, not so many by the dead.

That was why they were in Ouachita National Forest, further north than what they were a few months ago. They were still debating whether they should head towards Kansas City, Chicago or remain in the wilderness. Although resources were scarcer, so were the clickers. They had not encountered too many people either, which, considering their past experiences, it was a good thing. No one could be trusted anymore.

Joel sat down on a tree stump by the entrance of the cave, rifle on hand. He had his worn-out, unbuttoned military jacket on as temperatures dropped considerably after sunset. The night was so quiet it felt eerie. He could not see anything when he looked up as the treetops fully covered the night sky. He assumed it would be a starry night, clear of clouds. He kept his mind occupied with made-up scenarios to avoid drifting away into Morpheus’ world.

Hours had gone by when Joel heard the slight twitch of a branch from behind him. He rapidly stood up, gripping the rifle with tension. When he turned around and saw you, he clicked his tongue with disdain.

You were too sleepy to pick up on his rude gesture. You stretched your back, which hurt like hell. You had tried to fashion some sort of cushioned bed with leaves and grass, but your makeshift bed was still hard as a rock.

“What time is it?”, you asked grumpily.

“Not sure, around four in the morning?”, he answered without looking at you while he sat back down.

“You have a wristwatch, don’t you know how to read the time?”, you said sneeringly to get some sort of reaction out of him.

“Huh, you’re so fucking funny I’d laugh if I could”, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It’s broken”.

You looked at him in silence, as you had done many times in the last week. You didn’t understand how this man could kiss you like the world was ending and then, a second later, he would pretend you were nothing more than an annoying moth flying around him.

It infuriated you. He infuriated you.

He was there as if nothing had happened between the two of you, while you just woke up because of a very realistic dream. Or should you say a nightmare? Your body had some unreleased, built-up tension that was damn hard to ignore. You blamed Tommy for interrupting you ― had it not been for him, you might have known what it felt like to be under Joel. Or on top of him.

You shook your head, angry at yourself and at the man in front of you.

“Sure is, I bet they didn’t teach you how to read the time when you went to school, hmmm, when? Back in the 50s?”, you teased again.

He stood up, leaving the rifle on the ground, leaned against the stump.

“Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”, he growled, his fists tightly closed on his sides.

Finally ― a breakthrough.

“My problem?”, you chuckled. “You are my problem, Joel Miller. Are you telling me you have forgotten about what happened a week ago, huh?”, you ventured.

“What happened a week ago was a mistake, that is what it was. I don’t even know what kind of demon possessed me, because I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten-foot pole”, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other.

His words hurt you, but they made you even madder. Who did he think he was anyway?

“You are a fucking mistake. And what you say is complete bullshit. Do you think I have not noticed how you look at me when you believe I’m not paying attention? You pretend you are not interested, but you need a goddamn reality check if you really think so”, you snapped back, the palms of your hands tingling ― you wanted to punch him so bad.

“You are frigging delusional, darlin’. You are the only woman I have seen in the last few months, it’s not like I have much to choose from, do I? It was a desperate move, nothing else. Stop imagining things―”.

That was it. He had crossed a line. So you slapped him to shut him up. His rugged face turned ninety degrees with the force of your blow. His cheek reddened slightly.

And then you grabbed him by the neck of his flannel shirt, forcing down his face towards you so he would not have time to react. You were going to prove him who was right ― and it wasn’t him.

You kissed him, separating his lips with your tongue. You outlined his top teeth with the tip of your tongue and then he let you in. You would have smirked if you could. You mapped out his whole mouth with quick but insisting twirls, Joel following your lead. You helped him remove his jacket.

One of your hands was still holding onto his plaid shirt while the other travelled south. You could swear Joel had stopped breathing, but you distracted him by breaking the kiss and looking at him with intent. His lips were parted and wet with your spit, slightly red. You grazed the prominent bulge on his jeans with the palm of your hand, biting your bottom lip down when he heavily sighed with some relief before he trapped your mouth with his again.

You let go of the flannel shirt to work on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with some difficulty. Joel groaned loudly when you pulled down from the brim of his jeans to bring them down just below his ass, giving you plenty of access. One of Joel’s hands darted to your neck, circling your throat with the span of his fingers and squeezing lightly. Not to the point where you couldn’t breathe, but to the point where it made the whole experience even more pleasurable.

You moaned while your hand trespassed the elastic of his underwear and dipped your fingers down. You grabbed his manhood, already hard and leaking from the tip. You smiled as your thumb rubbed the precum against his sensitive skin and then slowly started to pump him. You had not seen his cock yet, but judging by the girth of it, you were not to be disappointed. You put some pressure on his shaft before upping the rhythm of the pumps.

“Fuck it, fuck this”, Joel wailed as he broke off the kiss.

For a second, you thought he was going to push you away.

His mind was spinning like a Ferris wheel coming off its hinges. He was mad, utterly mad. He shouldn’t but wouldn’t stop. Not now when you had enticed him this far. His dick was pulsing in your hand, and he was panting like a thirsty dog which had not tasted water in days.

He grabbed your adventurous hand and forced you to take it out of his briefs. Then he pushed you towards a fallen tree nearby. Joel was right behind you, his manhood hard pressed against your ass as he bit your neck, then pecking it where he had marked you. He took off your shirt before you could complain. You wore no bra, so when the cold air touched your sensitive nipples, you sighed. Joel’s hands were resting on your hips, but both quickly moved upwards until they gently cupped both of your breasts. He massaged them with care while he left a path of kisses on the side of your neck.

Then his left hand ventured south at the same time he twirled your right nipple between his fingers. You whimpered audibly when he dunked two fingers in your wet slit. He traced you up and down, your knees trembling with delight. Your cunt was so soft with your own fluids that it felt like velvet. Joel wondered how it would taste if he flattened his tongue against the damp skin and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned at the thought, and instead he paid special attention to your clit with his dextrous fingers. Your back arched, your ass touching his bulge ― you unconsciously wiggled your hips to grind on his cock. Then he tested your entrance with one fingertip, circling it slowly, while your bottom lip was quivering.

“You want this?”, he said in a coarse voice.

You nodded.

“Speak up, sweetheart”, he demanded.

“Yes, please, sir”, you whispered.

You closed your eyes and suspired loudly when his ring finger got greedily engulfed by your dripping hole. He started slowly, then fingered you relentlessly with two digits, to the point where you had to grasp his wrist to steady yourself. He curved them towards the front of your insides, stroking the right spot. You couldn’t help but watch as his fingers disappeared between your soaked folds. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ before you let go and came violently on his fingers. But Joel gave you no truce, he carried on masturbating you until you orgasmed twice more in quick succession with tears in your eyes. Your cunt was gushing for him ― you could feel the trickle of your cum going down your inner thighs. Your knees bended and you almost fell to the floor, but Joel held you by your hips with the firm embrace of his right arm.

“Good girl”, he purred in your ear, offering you his wet left hand.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist to hold it in place and sucked on his fingers with wanton need, his digits touching the back of your throat. You showed him explicitly what you would do to his throbbing dick if you had the chance. You licked him clean, tasting yourself on him.

Joel understood exactly what you were doing, feeling the tip of his cock touching his lower belly. He pushed down your trousers and underwear in one swift movement. Joel placed one hand on your back to make you go down on your knees. You kneeled on the ground, and he did so behind you. You put your hands down on the fallen trunk and looked over your shoulder for a minute. Joel had freed his dick, and he was holding it from the base. For a moment you wondered if it would fit, and you bit down your lip at the idea. You felt hypnotised by the sight, pondering how it would feel against your tongue, its glans pushing past your uvula, suffocating you.

“Lean forward for me, darlin’”, he muttered, and you happily obliged with dreamy eyes.

You rested your left cheek against the fallen log in between your hands, ass up in the air. You heard the rustling of leaves as Joel positioned himself right behind you. He placed his hands on your butt cheeks and cracked them open to have a peek. Joel groaned at such blissful picture. He could see your pussy literally throbbing for him, beckoning him like a siren a sailor. What a sight to see, he thought. With a pained huff, he let go of your buttocks and guided the tip of his dick to kiss your entrance. You hissed with pleasure. Finally, you thought. But he didn’t go in ― instead he trailed the tip of his cock along your slick cunt a few times.

“Joel, please, I beg―”.

“Shh”, he hummed at the exact time he went back down to your needy hole and pushed in his tip. Your flesh parted to make way. Your pussy was aching for him, burning to feel him inside. You have never felt this aroused in your life.

He took his sweet time, caressing your clit again as he went in inch by inch until his whole length was inside you. He stayed there for a long minute, letting you get used to him filling you up entirely. Your pussy choked his manhood at irregular intervals ― you just couldn’t control your own muscles anymore. It felt like heaven for both of you.

Then he moved back slowly, his shaft almost slipping out before he pushed back in with brute force. Joel freed your clit from his touch to grab your hips and started fucking you mercilessly. He found a devilish rhythm and you just went along with it. Both of your moans could be heard from yards away, as well as the squelching sounds coming from where you two connected ― luckily for you, Tommy slept like a log.

The roughness of the wood scratched the skin on your cheek, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Your fingers clutched, trying to hold on to something as your body was being rocked by Joel’s thrusts, an orgasm creeping up on you. And then you came again, almost screaming into the dead of night, like you never came before. You could feel your whole cunt squeezing him uncontrollably, your clit burning with electricity. You felt extremely overstimulated, but you let Joel ride you to find his own release.

Joel’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head ― he had never felt this horny before. This damn woman ―you― was doing something to him, albeit he didn’t know what. He felt your inner walls tightened firmly around his cock and he almost lost it. Every time he locked eyes on where you two met, seeing his shiny dick pulling out of you, he thought you the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

His balls were so tense he feared he was going to spill his seed in you. But he found the last bit of sanity within him ― as much as he would love to claim you for himself, he couldn’t. And so, he pulled out just in time, lodging his shaft between your buttocks. He put his hands on each side of your ass to squeeze his manhood in the fold of your skin. He leaned forward, his chest against your back, to bite you between your shoulder blades before straightening himself again. Joel pumped himself a couple of times in between your buttocks and came on you abundantly. What a waste, you thought out of nowhere.

Both of you stayed in the same exact position for a hot minute, breathing heavily with effort. You were the first one to move, although your limbs felt like jelly. You grabbed some leaves and cleaned the cum off your lower back as Joel watched you avidly.

Joel stood up and pulled up his briefs and jeans, while his mind was racing with doubt. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have let it go this far. What was meant to be a lesson for you, ended up being a lesson for himself too. Concealing his concern, he offered a hand to help you get up. You gladly took it and proceeded to clothe yourself again, being fully conscious of Joel’s hungry gaze.

You smiled at him.

“That was fun―”.

“A mistake”, he cut you off before you could say anything else.

You were left speechless. What did he just say?

“Are you fucking shitting me right now, Joel?”, you shouted at him. “Because if you are joking, I swear to God I will―”, your anger was raising up fast.

“No, I ain’t joking, we shouldn’t have done this. You don’t understand, I’ll just get you k―”.

“JOEL!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs when you suddenly saw a man a few yards behind him.

Before Joel could grab the rifle, a gunshot was heard and impacted on Joel’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, and you hastened to kneel beside him. Blood was quickly soaking his flannel shirt.

“No, Joel, please―”, then you felt someone pulling your hair back and yelled in pain. “Let go of me, you jerk!”. It was a different man.

The first man who had shot at Joel came towards you. Joel tried to sit up to fight back, but the man with the gun hit him in the head with the grip of the weapon and Joel fell back down on the dirt.

He was not moving. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. You felt the bile rise up in your throat but managed to hold it.

“Joel, Joel―”, you said with tears running down your cheeks.

“Shut up, bitch”, said the second man before slapping you.

You fought them back with all you had, but in the end, they hit you in the head too, rendering you unconscious, and dragging you away.

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bloodyserratus · 1 year ago

Text

welcome intrusion

pairing: choso x fem!reader word count: 4.2k synopsis: in choso's mind you are dating, but you are not on the same page. when you indulge in some harmless (to you) flirting, choso takes matters into his own hands. themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni, lots of day after fluff, lil bit of plot, f2l, very possessive choso, oral, piv intercourse, dirty talk, a mirror. lmk if i missed any!

a/n: this is the part 2 of my first choso fic! ...this can be read standalone but check that out for more context ig haha

You blinked lazily as you woke. As consciousness returned to you, so did your memory of last night. Glancing around you confirmed that you were, in fact, in Choso’s room and that your memories were not rabid fantasies. Choso laid behind you with a strong arm draped loosely around your waist and as much as you wanted to snuggle against him, you also desperately needed to pee.

You shifted gingerly, trying to move without waking him. You could figure out which door led to the bathroom yourself.

“Ope?!” you let out a surprised exhale when his arm tightened around your waist and pulled you against his chest.

“Don't sneak off,” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“I wasn't!” you were indignant. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. “I need to pee,” you wiggled in his hold.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue with understanding. “Right across the hall.”

You smiled as Choso’s grip loosened reluctantly as you shuffled across the hall to do your business.

“Missed you,” Choso murmured when you tucked yourself back into him and you laughed at his joke.

Choso’s eyebrows pinched slightly at your laugh because he hadn’t been kidding, but he was satisfied that you were back in his arms. He pressed himself flush against your back and his heat under the covers melted into you.

“You're warm,” you hummed delightedly.

“Mhm,” he hummed back. “Do you have plans today?”

“No, do you?”

“Spend the day with me?” he requested hopefully.

“Okay,” you smiled.

You lazed in bed for a while longer before the sunlight started to peek through the curtains.

“I'll make coffee, stay in bed as long as you want,” Choso pressed a kiss against your forehead before he got out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and before too long, you heard a grinding sound coming from, presumably, the kitchen.

You laid in bed for a few moments, contemplating the situation. Of all the things, sleeping with Choso was not one you had foreseen. Shrugging, you pulled yourself out of bed and found a clean shirt of his to put on. You tied your hair up and walked towards the sounds of coffee.

“Morning,” Choso greeted you with a lazy smile when you entered.

You paused in your tracks, once again taken aback by his physique. The sweatpants hung low across his hips and his musculature was nothing if not impressive. His long, dark hair fell around his shoulders and you thought about running your fingers through them again.

“What?” Choso felt you eyeing him as he poured the coffee into mugs.

“You are crazy hot, you know that right?” you tried to laugh it off.

Choso flushed, which is ridiculously endearing.

“Oh my god and you're fucking cute!” you cooed as you accepted a mug from him. You looked up at him with heart eyes and he tried to hide from your gaze.

“Quit it,” he protested bashfully.

“Why are you being so shy?” you asked playfully. “You know you’re hot right?” You took the opportunity to run a hand over his chest. His muscles flexed reflexively at your touch and his pupils dilated.

“Cho?” you pressed a kiss against his bicep. “You know, right?”

He had the gall to look sheepish when you kissed his shoulder.

“Choso!” you insisted and he responded by wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly. He couldn’t get enough of the sound of his name, so flirtatious on your lips.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips. You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. He grunted softly before picking you up and carrying you back to the bedroom.

He laid you down, but you pulled him down on top of you, legs wrapped around his waist as his cock pressed against you. It wasn’t until this moment that Choso noticed you were wearing his shirt and his pupils dilated. What a sight.

“Fuck,” you panted, grinding yourself against his hot, heavy erection. “Cho-”

“Pretty girl,” he ran his thumbs across your cheeks. “Want me?”

“Need you,” you pouted.

Your nipples tightened through his shirt and he pressed his tongue inside of his cheek as his gaze raked over you. Where to start?

“Wait,” you interrupted his thoughts. “Lay down.”

“Hm?” his eyebrows raised.

“Please?” you smiled brightly at him.

Choso’s eyes were still questioning, but he laid down where you gestured. You moved to the foot of the bed and ran your hands up along his legs, through the fabric of his sweats. You traced the contours of his shins, his strong quads, and his thick cock. You admired the outline of it through your fingers and Choso jerked when you squeezed gently.

You bit your bottom lip as you continued to trace up the contours of his abs and his chest, brushing lightly against his piercings. You grinned mischievously before running your hands over his shoulders and back down his muscular arms.

“You are so…,” you admired him dreamily. “Fucking hot.”

Choso blushed furiously up at you. Your chest grew tight. Something about the way color spread across the bridge of his nose made you tingly all over.

“God I like it when you blush,” you exhaled, learning forward to pepper kisses along the pink.

Choso’s breath caught at the way you were so generously affectionate with him. God he liked you. He had always liked you, but having you now was something else.

“Cho,” you gasped at the friction, “You're so hard.”

“Look what you're doing to me,” he chuckled darkly.

“Let me take care of you,” you moaned at his words. It was difficult, but you managed to pull yourself away from him and settled, instead, between his legs. “Let me take care of this beautiful cock,” you hummed as you nuzzled your face against his erection.

“Ah fuck,” he hissed as he watched you rub your cheeks and lips wantonly against his cock. Your lips nibbled through the soft fabric and your mouth fell open in desperate pants. God he wanted to place his hand on the back of your head and press you down on him, but he also loved letting you explore him freely.

“Shit…baby, baby, baby,” he muttered desperately, “Put it in your mouth, baby, please!” he panted, squirming impatiently.

“Yes sir,” you answer him playfully before closing your lips around his engorged cockhead. He was hot against your tongue and his hips bucked up reflexively, hitting you in the back of the throat. “Fuck! Cho,” you coughed.

“Shit, sorry, I’m sorry!” He apologized profusely. “It felt so good,” he offered weakly in explanation. His expression was both guilty and crazed and you had to admit, you liked the way you could make him lose control.

“Don’t be,” you bit your bottom lip to hold back your desire. “I like it rough,” you grinned before lowering yourself onto him again. You relaxed your throat around his cock and took him down to the hilt.

Choso was all breathy pants and muttered curses while you milked him. He stared, eyes glazed over, at the sight of you eagerly swallowing his entire erection and it was only the thought of cumming in your pussy that was able to keep him from losing his sense and nutting down your throat. He bucked up into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off. When you looked up at him, eyes dark and mouth wet with saliva, he groaned deeply and pulled your mouth to meet his.

Choso guided you to straddle him and he grasped his cock, swiping the head through your folds. He grinned when you shuddered and he teased you a few more times before sliding up into you.

“Cho-!” you gasped, at his forceful upwards buck. Your eyes rolled back as he thrust up into you, harsh and rough. He watched you with dark eyes as you held onto his shoulders, hanging on weakly as he fucked you…hard.

“Cho-so,” your hands clawed around the back of his neck as he stroked in and out of you.

“So good, so good, so good,” he murmured like an incantation. “God this pussy is so fucking good!”

The forceful puncture of his words had your toes curling and you started to lose it. Sensing the change, Choso reached up and tweaked your nipples between his fingers and you clenched, walls fluttering around him as you came undone.

“Choooo~!” you squealed and he enjoyed the exhilarating sight of you coming apart on him, for him.

He gritted his teeth as you squeezed and clenched on him. He could hardly believe it, but he managed to stay together through your orgasm. He flipped you onto your back and grabbed your wrists, lifting them over your head.

“Put your hands on the wall,” he instructed. When you looked at him with confusion, all he said was, “Watch your head,” before he drove into you, deeper and harder than before.

You let out a surprised cry as your hands flew to the wall, bracing yourself. Choso was strong and he leveraged every bit of that to drive his hard cock into your clenching pussy. The sounds that came out of your mouth were no short of crazy and the pleased look on Choso’s face had you melting.

“Wanna cum in you, angel,” Choso muttered between thrusts.

“Please, please, please,” you nodded frantically. You wanted that too. Desperately.

Choso’s balls tightened and the word ‘mine’ echoed through his mind as he came, heavy and hard, into you. ‘Mine, mine, mine’ was all he could hear until his crazed haze subsided.

“I think our coffee’s getting cold,” you smiled up at him affectionately as you pushed some of his hair back.

“Probably,” he chuckled, but he let his heavy body weight on yours for a while longer before he could summon the willpower to pull away.

…

Choso watched you, chest full of butterflies, as you greeted someone’s dog. After showering and drinking your tepid coffees, you’d made a plan for the day which included brunch and then shopping. You’d been on your way to brunch when a puppy had derailed you and you were now petting its belly happily as Choso looked on.

“Agh he’s so cute!” you’d cooed when you’d finally returned to his side and continued on your jaunt towards the restaurant.

“You’re cute,” he laughed, looping his arm through yours as you walked.

You watched Choso over your menu as he read through his. You wondered what this was to him. For as long as you’d been acquainted with him, you’d never known him to date. Perhaps he was more of a casual person…you supposed that could be fine. You lived a little further apart than was ideal for dating, anyways.

Choso looked up and caught your gaze. You panicked and lifted your menu up to cover your face. Heat crept up your cheeks at having been caught staring, but Choso’s lips curled into a smile. It felt really nice to be out on a date with you. To be able to think of you as his girlfriend. After having been so content being on his own for many years, he was surprised at how natural it felt.

“Want to check out the record store after this? They sell books and tea too,” he asked. He’d spend the entire day with you, if you’d let him.

“Sure!” you nodded, glad that he hadn’t mentioned your staring.

…

You walked purposefully from the dining area to the lobby. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner and you were anxious for things to go smoothly. Rationally, you knew that they should, but you couldn’t help the small string of worry about something going wrong. You were scanning the room to locate Yuko and Yuji again when an arm shot out and pulled you into another hallway.

“Oh?” you tensed up and then relaxed when you realized it was Choso. You smiled at him shyly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” his eyes searching yours, “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Just…a lot going on,” you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“I know,” he brushed his thumb across your cheek reassuringly. “It’ll be fine though. As long as those two get hitched…it’s a success. And honestly I don’t think we could stop them even if we tried,” he laughed, jerking his eyebrows towards the couple who was canoodling at the head of the table.

You laughed. Choso was right, you could relax. Everything would be fine.

Choso admired you as you watched the husband and wife to be. Your eyes softened as you smiled and Choso was filled with a rush of desire. He wanted to pull you into a supply closet, he wanted to kiss you, he wanted to cart you off and do unspeakable things to you. He cleared his throat and stepped away from you in an effort to get a grip. It was Yuji and Yuko’s wedding. He wanted to wait until the nuptials were over until he shared that you two were dating so as not to steal their thunder.

Your smile fell a hair when Choso stepped away from you. Choso had been hot and cold all night. He’d held your hand under the table, thumb brushing against yours, but then dropped it quickly when Yuji and Yuko had approached from behind. He’d draped his hand around your hip when he’d approached you at the bar before seeming to remember himself and then pulling away stiffly. It made a certain sense, you surmised. It felt natural to be more physical after what had happened between you, but Choso must not want to give you the wrong impression.

…

“Megumiiiiii!” a cheery voice rang out from behind you. You could place Gojo’s voice from a mile away.

As Yuji’s mentor, he hadn’t been present at the rehearsal dinner yesterday, but he was invited to the ceremony.

“Gojo-san,” Megumi greeted the man reluctantly before returning his attention to his conversation with you. You liked Megumi despite his excessively stern exterior.

“Wow, YN!” Gojo raked his eyes over you as he settled into the bar behind Megumi. “You look…wow,” his jaw dropped appreciatively as he really took you in. His eyes burned hot little trails into your skin.

“Thanks,” you laughed, heat running through you at his hungry stare. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

This was true. Gojo was tall and handsome, so he cut quite the figure in formalwear.

“Grab you a drink?” he asked, eyeing your empty glass.

“Sure, why not?” you shrugged, telling him your order.

“Seriously,” Gojo let out a low whistle as he looked you over again. “This color really suits you.”

You laughed. Gojo was a notorious flirt, but it felt nice to be on the receiving end of such a handsome man’s compliments. Gojo’s index finger traced down the thin strap on your shoulder and you shivered at his touch.

“Gojo!” you chuckled, but your voice was breathy.

Choso fumed. He had seen Gojo approach you out of the corner of his eye. That fact alone had been enough to trigger a small flicker of jealousy in his stomach. When you’d laughed at Gojo’s words and then when he had dared to touch you…the small flicker was stoked into a steady flame.

“Oh! Gojo-sensei and YN?” Yuji observed innocently. “They look kind of cute together, don’t they?”

Choso’s fist clenched.

“I don’t think Gojo is the serious type,” Todo raised an eyebrow at his best friendo.

“Ah, that’s alright too,” Yuji waved a hand at the massive man. “If you ask me, she could use a fling! She’s been single for…forever!”

Gojo felt Choso’s eyes on him before he saw them. It was impossible not to. As soon as he had approached you, a pair of piercing, dark eyes had trailed him. When you had laughed and smiled at him, they had narrowed a fraction, and then Gojo had reached out a finger to trace the strap of your dress, the look he received could have killed. Gojo laughed. He wasn’t particularly close to Yuji’s brother, but he’d always thought of him as rather passive. How interesting.

“Cousin,” Noritoshi jerked Choso out of his thoughts with a friendly smile.

“Ah, Noritoshi,” Choso tried to rearrange his thoughts quickly. “How are you?”

Choso tried to focus on what his cousin was saying to him. Something about his father or grandfather, but truthfully Choso couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Gojo who was getting rather handsy with you. And to his dismay…you did nothing to discourage it. If anything, you were entertaining his flirting and that brought out a side of Choso that was positively cavemanish.

“Well, you’re clearly not listening,” Noritoshi raised an eyebrow at Choso and then followed the line of his gaze to you and Gojo. “Perhaps you should do something about it,” he suggested logically before walking away.

Choso thought for a moment. If it were any other occasion than Yuji’s wedding, he already would have. But his desire to be a good older brother was strong and he was resolute on not making a scene if he could avoid it. He even believed himself until Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist in a playful embrace and his control snapped. More than enough.

Yuji’s face grew comical as Choso strode across the room angrily. His eyes and mouth morphed into perfect circles when Choso bisected himself between you and Gojo.

“Hey,” Choso’s hand sifted through your hair and he pressed his lips against your forehead before he fixed Gojo with a hard stare.

“...Choso?” you blinked, suddenly hot all over at this territorial display. He was staking a claim and quite conspicuously at that.

Hearing his name from your lips, his eyes slid down to you and you were surprised at the emotion you saw brimming over in them. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to hold in the jolt of arousal that shot through you.

Yuji and Yuko’s mouths were long, matching ovals as they watched Choso all but carry you away. They blinked at each other before squealing with delight.

“Choso?” you asked, unable to bear the heavy, weighted silence filling the elevator as it ascended.

The elevator dinged to signal its arrival before Choso answered. He took your hand in his and led you to the door of his room before he met your eyes again.

“Why were you flirting with him?” His words were even and measured.

“Who, Gojo?” You asked in confusion. Gojo flirted with everyone, it hadn't been serious. And not like you had a reason not to.

“Of course Gojo,” he answered as if speaking to a child.

“It's Gojo!” you shrugged, “He's a flirt!”

“But you are not single anymore,” Choso exhaled. He leaned over you, placing a hand against the wall.

Your head jerked in surprise at this statement. You weren't?

Choso saw red when you had the audacity to look surprised. He unlocked the door and hauled you inside. He'd show you if that's what it took.

“Cho…,” his name died in your throat as you looked at him. He looked crazed. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tugged his tie off angrily.

You were still confused, but more pressing you were incredibly turned on at the way he got undressed. You could tell he was going to be rough and you were not against it. You tried to reach for the zipper on your dress.

“Don’t bother,” he stopped you by setting you on the edge of his bed.

His hands raked your skirts up in large handfuls, exposing your calves and thighs to him. The collar of his shirt hung open and you enjoyed a glorious view of his muscular chest. You hooked an arm around his neck, angling yourself towards him. His eyes traced a triangle…eye, lips, eye. You expected him to kiss you next, but he instead sank to his knees and dove under your skirt. He placed hot kisses up your inner thighs as he pressed them open. You were gasping like a fish out of water by the time he placed his first sloppy kiss against your overheated cunt.

“Choso!” you cried, thighs closing around his head. His fingertips bit into your flesh as he pried you back open and continued.

You moaned his name again and he grinned. That was right…Choso. He’d have you calling his name until you were seeing stars. Until it was burned into your mind. You reached for him, but your skirt was in the way. Instead you settled for placing your hand on the outline of his head through your skirt.

Choso ate you out like he was starved. He pressed lush, sloppy kisses against you. His lips pushed at the hood of your clit as his tongue swiped against your entrance. He sucked your lips into his mouth and then spread them back apart with his tongue. For lack of a better word, he was making out exuberantly with your pussy and it was incredible.

Choso felt frenzied at the sounds you made and the way you tasted. The way you kept trying to close your thighs around his ears and how you whined when he held you open for him. You had coated his mouth and chin and still he wanted more. Could stay down here forever. The pitch of your voice grew ecstatic as you clutched at him desperately. Your skirts were a rumpled mess and you warned him that you were close. He latched his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, drawing the orgasm out of you. You his name gloriously as your body tensed and you let go. Your legs grew limp and he resurfaced, looking down at you with a dripping chin.

“Choso,” you panted, out of breath and recovering. You reached for him, but he held himself cruelly out of arm’s length. He peeled the rest of his clothes off and you watched, transfixed by the expanses of skin as they were exposed to you.

Afterwards, he stood you up to face the mirror on the wall as he unzipped your dress and pulled it off of you. He grabbed you by the chin and turned your head to meet his eyes in the reflection.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he demanded as his hands traced across your skin. You shivered and goosebumps broke out at his caresses. He traced the undersides of your breasts, across your collarbones, and over the swells of your hips. His lips kissed at the side of your neck and you let out soft whimpers and squeaks at his touches.

“Choso, please…,” you whined, brows furrowing desperately at him.

“Yes, baby?” he replied, feigning clueless.

“You’re teasing,” you pouted, hoping he might be sympathetic.

“Mhm.”

“Please fuck me!” you begged.

“Not Gojo?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Choso! Fuck Gojo!” you stamped a foot with impatience.

Choso’s jaw ticked. You would do no such thing.

“Get on the bed, face the mirror,” he instructed, arranging you so that you were laying on your stomach, prone beneath him. He laid on top of you and wrapped his arms over your shoulders and grasped your chin. Again he met your eyes in the mirror and his breathing was warm and wet against your ear when he spoke. “Watch me…as I make you mine,” he purred and then his hips hitched, driving himself into you.

“Fuck!” you cried, eyes widening as you watched his reflection. His eyebrows were pinched and his grip on your chin was rough. He bucked into you, fucking you just as harshly.

“Choso,” you arched beneath him, hips lifting of their own accord until you were folded at the hips. This fucking angle…

“So pretty for me,” his eyes locked on yours.

As you held his gaze, you realized suddenly that you loved this. Adored his possession.

“Yours,” you blinked through glassy eyes, your look full of meaning.

“Mine,” he growled as he pulled you back onto himself again and again. His thrusts were deep, hard, and rhythmic and your cries of pleasure matched his pace.

Choso watched as your hands clutched at the air. Your pupils were blown out with ecstasy and you struggled to keep your eyes on him as he had requested.

“Yours, Choso,” you gasped and he felt you clench around him.

Choso drove into you and kept himself deep inside of you, his balls grinding against your clit and his head pressing against your cervix. Your eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by the sensation and you squeezed hard around him, orgasm ripping through you.

“Only yours,” you sighed almost sheepishly.

“Only mine,” he grunted. His chest came forward to press against your back as he emptied himself inside of you.

He rolled you both to your side, keeping himself inside of you. He pulled you close and pressed soft kisses against the top of your head.

“So…,” you spoke first. “I'm not single anymore?”

Choso managed to feel shy at your direct questioning.

“I-...,” he stammered.

“No, don't be shy now!” you tutted at him. “You were quite clear before!” you giggled.

“I'm happy to show you again…,” he rasped into the crook of your neck.

“I’m kind of a slow learner,” your lips threatened a grin as you arched into him with a satisfied purr.

#choso smut #choso fanfic #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #serrated writing

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cherubmm · 4 months ago

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ YAN!SWAPDREAM.NIGHTMARE HCS ࿐ྂ

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━FEATURING: SWAPDREAM.Nightmare

⊱.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ━━━━CONTENT WARNING: Yandere in general. Soft yandere. Unhealthy attachment. Hint of violence. Implied Moral dilemma. One-sided love. Slightly implied suggestive theme(?). Attempt of nonconsensual touches (dw nothing really happens). Breaking in. Mention of stealing belongings. Stalking. Obsessive & Possessive thoughts. OCC. Proof-read(yay!)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Can't y'all notice that I want turn this into filthy filthy filthy? Pleaseeee :( Also this is probably one of the longest writing I ever made.

Nightmare doesn't like you. But not in a sense where he loathes you entirely— quite the contrary, actually— rather, in a way where he wants nothing to do with you and for the reason of it is simple; he wants you safe. Unlike his brother who feels exceedingly entitled to control his darling's emotions and calling dibs right up, nightmare would be very AGAINST IT.

The guardian of negativity are highly empathic when it comes to your situation— Poor little you, it must be unfortunate to be admired, let alone be loved, by a repulsive being such as himself, ain't it? He pity you, he truly does! This skeleton is painfully aware of the danger and dire possibilities of being associated with him even as he tries —and fails — to delude himself otherwise.

And yet, despite his words.... He couldn't bring to turn his heels away from you no matter what his conscience screamed at him. How unfortunate

The darker guardian never let you meet him. That's right, you heard it clearly; never let you meet him. Just as i'd stated earlier, there are so many dreadful scenarios that could happen to you just by associating or being seen together with him, public or not, there's still an eye in every corner.

While I tend to keep it ambiguous and leave the relationship of darling and the yandere to the readers, the most likely and fitted scenario that would happen here is he's a stranger to you— completely, utterly and entirely so. You wouldn't know who he is nor will get any thoughts about it. Nightmare made sure that you remain oblivious to his presence all while he's not in yours. He craftily calculated everything, pulling string deliberately over the course of continuing his duty to protect the weak —mostly you— and hunt his brother.

Speaking of which, nightmare's BIGGEST fear is for you, to encounter dream (yeah, you come first. The rest can come next or be damned, he doesn't really care). Hypothetically, if there is still indeed an apple left on the tree, nightmare wouldn't hesitate to devour it just to annihilate dream all at once the moment he senses any alludes of interest directly to you. This is not even him— talking from possessiveness. In general,the younger skeleton knows his (delusional) brother's motives and it's always up-to-no-good. The last thing he wanted is for his cherished beloved, to be caught on the web.

Nightmare is greatly frustrated at the situation he put himself in. While the judiciousness alongside his morality (fortunately) overpowering his very own desire, the minor part of mind— something that ran far deeper than simple hunger for closure or possession yet veiled by the constant self-restriction— constantly murmured temptation to his (metamorphic) ears. The promising of forbidden pleasure he could taste if he only let his guard down and indulge for once— just this once.

This is always how it goes. The voice will strike at the times where he's at his weakest and desperate point. Yet, by the end of the day, he will never acted out on it. After all, he swore to his very being to not disturb you with his wretched presence, only allowed to bask at the sight of your beauty behind the shadow, where he can properly monitor and execute any danger that could possibly lurking near you. Right, he doesn't have a weak mind, he can't be affected by it. No never!.

...

...Then why is he here...?

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. What the fuck is he thinking?!

Nightmare paced restlessly, his tall frame moving back and forth in complete silence at the corner of your room. His gloved hands gripped at the sides of his skull, clawing in desperation, trying to quiet the raging conflict inside his mind. His face twisted with emotions he fought so hard to keep buried—anguish, frustration, guilt. Each second that passed only darkened the torment.

This is bad. This is bad. This is so, so bad. Fuckin' hell, Nightmare, you’ve messed up real bad this time, he thought—or was it him thinking? The voice in his head sounded like his own, but the words were biting, foreign. His thoughts were so loud, so scattered, they felt almost tangible.

He needed to smoke. Anything to dull the noise in his head, to drag himself back to some semblance of control. But the heavy sigh that left him was shaky, not quite calming. He had to get a grip. If he let his emotions slip any further, he might wake you, and disturbing your peace was the last thing he wanted to do.

Nightmare paused, standing still as his gaze shifted toward your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, completely unaware of the storm raging just a few feet away. Seeing you like this—so vulnerable, so unguarded—was enough to make his thoughts blur into a painful white noise.

What the hell am I doing here? He’d sworn to himself, over and over again, that he wouldn’t disturb you. That he’d stay in the shadows where he belonged, only watching from a distance, ensuring your safety without ever letting you know of his cursed presence. He was supposed to be your guardian, protector. Never the intruder.

But here he was, standing at the edge of your bed like a hypocrite, breaking all the promises he’d made to himself. Guilt gnawed at him, making him feel filthy, like he was tainting the very air around you. He was doing exactly what he swore he never would—he was crossing the line. He should leave. Now. Forget this ever happened and go back to keeping his distance.

But when his gaze fell on you again, all his self-reprimands dissolved. The thoughts turned to dust in the back of his mind. You were ethereal. So pure, so unblemished, so untouched by almost anything.

Without realizing it, his feet moved forward. He knelt at the edge of your bed, his hand trembling as it hovered near your exposed leg. His mind flooded with filthy, shameful thoughts—what if he just let go for once? What if he gave in to the temptation that had been eating away at him for so long? He could touch you right now, could claim just a moment of forbidden pleasure.

...

But the moment passed. His restraint won out, as it always did.

Instead of touching your skin, Nightmare gently grasped the edge of your blanket, pulling it over you to cover the exposed areas. His hands were still shaking as he made sure the fabric was tucked securely around you, ensuring that no cold air would reach your delicate skin. It was a small act, something that soothed the turmoil within him, if only for a fleeting second.

He stood again, distancing himself from the temptation that had nearly undone him. His gaze wandered across your room, taking in the personal belongings that filled the space. His eyes caught on the pictures scattered on your shelves—photos of you, smiling alongside others. Who are these people? Jealousy flared within him, but he quickly quashed it, moving instead toward your belongings.

His eyes landed on something small and delicate: your handkerchief. It sat neatly on one of your shelves, its design is unmistakably yours. Nightmare reached for it with trembling hands, bringing the fabric to his face. He inhaled softly, trying to capture the faint trace of your scent that lingered on the cloth.

The scent calmed him, grounding him for a moment as he stood there in the quiet of your room, the fabric pressed gently to his face. After a while, the feeling faded. His fingers grew still, and he knew it was time to leave.

But instead of placing the handkerchief back where he found it, he tucked it neatly into his coat pocket. A small, selfish memento of the night. A part of you to keep with him when he couldn’t be near.

He made his way back to your bedside, his gaze falling on you one last time. His eyes softened as he watched you sleep, his chest heavy with longing and guilt. He didn’t deserve to be here, didn’t deserve to be near you.

With one final glance, he disappeared, fading in the gust of purple smoke as if he’d never been there at all.

#₊·꒰ა 👁️‍🗨️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ cheru's writing #sans x reader #sans x y/n #swapdream nightmare #₊·꒰ა 👁️‍🗨️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ yandere #yandere sans

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idkanymark · 1 month ago

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[ Mine to protect ]

chenle x f!reader | toxic relationship au | threats mentioned

INTRO: Love isn’t always simple, especially when the past refuses to let go.

wc. Around 2-2.5k

warnings. Death mentioned, slightly suggestive and crazy ex

Lowkey inspired by: Back to you by Selena Gomez

NOTE: don't mind me but lately Chenle is bias wrecking me so bad.

----

You still couldn’t figure out how you ended up in a situation like this.

When things started to go wrong between you and Chenle, it became a vicious cycle: arguing, making up, and then arguing all over again. Eventually, the cycle broke when you called it quits. That was supposed to be the end of it, right?

Then why, three months later, were you still not over him—and worse, being chased by one of his deranged exes who seemed determined to kill you?

At first, you didn’t want Chenle to know. Even though he and his family could’ve handled the situation much better than you could, the thought of seeing him again made your heart heavy.

The first warning came in the form of an unmarked package left on your doorstep. You stared at it for a while, thinking it was a late delivery of something you’d ordered. But as soon as you opened the box, you felt the air leave your lungs. Inside was a small knife, and beside it, a piece of paper with jagged writing:

“You have no one to protect you now. See you soon, boyfriend stealer.”

Your hands trembled as you read the words again, your mind racing. It wasn’t hard to figure out who had sent it. Chenle’s so-called “ex” wasn’t even a real ex—it was an arranged marriage his family had tried to push on him. But she clearly didn’t see things the same way.

You brushed it off at first, telling yourself she was just trying to scare you. But then came more packages, each worse than the last. A lock of hair. Pictures of you walking home.

And then it escalated.

You came home one evening, exhausted from work, only to find the front door slightly open. Your blood ran cold as you stepped inside. Everything looked normal at first, but then you noticed small, unsettling details. A chair pulled out from the kitchen table. A window you swore you had locked, now open. Worst of all, the faint scent of perfume—one you didn’t own—lingering in the air.

You couldn’t stay there anymore. Fear had taken over every part of your life. You packed your things and moved to a new place, doing everything you could to stay under the radar—all while keeping it from Chenle. He wasn’t supposed to know.

But secrets like that don’t stay hidden for long. The night of a big event in town, you saw her. She was standing across the street, her eyes locked on you with a twisted smile. Panic set in, and you ran without thinking. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—Jisung saw the entire thing and told Chenle right away.

Chenle was furious. Someone was threatening you.

You might wonder why he cared so much if you were no longer together. But the truth was, your breakup hadn’t been clean. Love still lingered between the two of you, unresolved and undeniable. But Chenle’s possessiveness and jealousy were what had driven you apart in the first place.

And now, they might just pull you back into his orbit again.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You didn’t stop until you stumbled into an old, abandoned building, the kind of place where every creak of the floorboards felt like a warning. You pressed yourself against a wall, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the world around you.

You should’ve known better than to date the son of the Zhong Group. His world was nothing like yours, and loving him only seemed to invite chaos. But in your defense, you hadn’t fallen for the heir to an empire. You’d fallen for Chenle—the sweet, charming boy who’d walked into the store where you worked and made your heart skip a beat with nothing more than his disarming smile.

Now here you were, hiding for your life.

You heard footsteps.

Your body froze, every muscle tense as you held your breath.

The sound grew louder, closer. You were sure you were going to die. Your heart threatened to explode as you closed your eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

But instead of the worst, you heard a voice.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes snapped open. Standing in front of you, his expression a mix of concern and fury, was him.

“Chenle?” you whispered, your voice trembling. Tears threatened to spill, but you willed them to stay in. Not now. Not in front of him.

His gaze softened, but only slightly. He knew you too well—every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. He’d spent months studying you, memorizing every detail, so he could always make sure you were okay. So he could protect you from anything that might hurt you.

“Why didn’t you tell me that crazy bitch is after you?” he asked, his voice low but sharp with hurt.

You hesitated, guilt pooling in your chest. “I thought she just wanted to scare me a little bit" you admitted. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the full truth. You also knew what she was capable of—and the dangerous connections she had in the city.

Chenle’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening. “You’re coming with me” he said, grabbing your arm with a firm but careful grip. His eyes darted around, always alert, scanning for any threats.

There was no point arguing. You knew better than to go against him when he was like this. Reluctantly, you let him lead you out of the building, your fear now replaced by a storm of conflicting emotions.

You weren’t sure if you were running from danger—or back into it.

----

Chenle brought you to his sprawling mansion, where the gates opened effortlessly as the security team let you in. The moment you stepped inside, memories rushed back, flooding your mind with bittersweet clarity.

The couch in the living room—it was where you shared your first kiss, lost in each other’s embrace. The kitchen held the warmth of late-night dinners you made for him, the air filled with laughter and soft music. And the living room, once a haven for dancing in his arms, also bore the weight of arguments, tears, and the sound of breaking glass. You could still feel the echo of your heart shattering with every fight.

“You know the place” he said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I still have some of your clothes upstairs. Take a shower and get comfortable.”

You nodded, unable to argue, and quietly followed his instructions.

You stayed in the guest room this time, not the master bedroom. You weren’t his girlfriend anymore—just a guest in the house you once called a second home. After showering and changing, you made your way downstairs. Chenle had also cleaned up, now dressed in casual clothes, his hair still damp. He stood in the kitchen, cooking your favorite dish.

“It smells good” you said, breaking the silence.

“Wait until you taste it” he replied with a small laugh.

For a moment, this was your Chenle—the sweet, playful boy who had made you fall head over heels. The boy whose smile could make your heart race. You couldn’t help but notice how his hair had grown longer, how he’d lost weight since you last saw him. He still looked as handsome as ever, maybe even more so.

When the food was ready, he served it with care, waiting for your verdict. You took one bite and gave him a thumbs up, smiling at him. That small gesture made Chenle’s lips curve into a faint smile, but you could see it—the longing in his eyes, the ache that mirrored your own.

He had missed you as much as you missed him, maybe even more.

“My men are taking care of the problem” he said after a moment, his voice firm. “She won’t bother you anymore. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you, though you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

The two of you ate in silence for a while, the quiet only broken when Chenle finally spoke. “How’s your life going?” His voice was cautious, almost afraid of the answer.

“It could be better, I guess” you admitted. “Yours?”

“Hell” he said bluntly, locking eyes with you. The honesty in his voice caught you off guard, leaving you speechless.

“Y/N” he began, his tone softening. “Please, give me another chance. I swear, I’ll make it work this time.”

Your breath hitched. His words tugged at your heart, but the scars from the past were still there, raw and unhealed. “I don’t know, Chenle” you whispered, tears finally spilling over. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“But you’re already hurting without me” he countered, his voice cracking. “Is it worth being hurt without someone you love by your side?”

For the first time, you saw Chenle cry. He stood and walked over to you, pulling you into his arms as if his very life depended on it.

“Please” he pleaded, his voice trembling. “Just one chance, and I’ll make it work. I swear.”

You looked up at him, your tears mingling with his. Slowly, you extended your pinky. “You promise? No more fights?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, and he hooked his pinky around yours. “I promise" he whispered.

The promise was sealed with a kiss. It was desperate and passionate, a kiss filled with all the love and longing you had both kept bottled up. It wasn’t long before things heated up, and Chenle lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to his room.

He placed you on the bed as if you were made of glass, his lips never straying far from yours. His hands roamed your body with reverence, like he was afraid this moment might slip away.

That night, Chenle worshiped every inch of you. His lips mapped your skin, trailing kisses along places he hadn’t touched in what felt like a lifetime.

“You’re mine" he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “No one else will ever make me feel the way you do.”

His kisses were desperate yet tender, as if he was trying to make up for every fight, every tear, and every second spent apart. He whispered I love you like a prayer, each word carrying the weight of his devotion. To Chenle, you weren’t just someone he loved—you were his everything, his reason to keep going.

When your bodies came together, it wasn’t just passion—it was a silent promise, unspoken but deeply understood. In his arms, the pain of the past began to fade, replaced by a love so consuming it felt like nothing else in the world mattered

By morning, Chenle woke first. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching you sleep. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your arm as he let himself take in every detail of your peaceful expression. He had missed this—missed you—more than words could ever express.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling him from his thoughts. He reached for it quickly, careful not to wake you.

“Yes?” he answered quietly.

“It’s done” Jeno reported on the other end. “She won’t be a problem anymore.”

Chenle exhaled, relief flooding his chest. “Good job” he said before hanging up.

Turning back to you, he couldn’t help but smile. You stirred moments later, your eyes fluttering open.

“Good morning” you said, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning, love” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What time is it?” you asked, glancing at the window to see sunlight streaming through.

“It’s time to make love, angel” he teased with a mischievous smirk, his hands already pulling you closer.

You laughed softly, shaking your head, but didn’t resist when he kissed you again.

And he kept his promise. There were no more fights, no more toxicity. For the first time, your relationship felt steady, whole. Chenle worked to be partner you deserved, and you found yourself falling for him all over again.

With him by your side, life finally felt right and you couldn’t be happier.

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wildestdreamsblog · 2 years ago

Text

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Hyung line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Attempt at ending one’s life, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: why on earth is this 5kish long? This part is darker than the maknae line (for me at least) precisely for the reason that hyung line would plan before springing into action which makes them more…dangerous. I hope you enjoy this! And for real, read the warnings okay.

Namjoon

You blinked in surprise when you entered the house. You thought it was a nightmare came to life when you saw Namjoon sitting there with your mom. The two of them were chatting and laughing, hot cup of tea on the table.

It was Namjoon who first saw you, his eyes flashing a certain heat before he smiled at you sweetly. “Flower, you’re here!”

You frowned at him before turning to look at your mother who was smiling fondly at the two of you. “He said he wanted to surprise you. Your fiancé is so sweet, darling. Despite his busy schedule, he had it in him to go to our province. What a sweet man,” she cooed at him before tapping his hand.

Fiancé?

“Of course. I wanted to see how my future mother-in-law is doing,” he replied with the sweetest smile on his face that even you were almost fooled. “I worry about your health.”

Your mother laughed sheepishly, “Namjoon, son, you can call me mom. There’s no need for formality.”

“Okay, mom.”

What. The. Fuck?

Your mother excused herself, saying something about making dinner seeing as Namjoon would be staying.

Once she was out of earshot, you marched to him and pulled him outside the house. And he was all too willing to be pulled by you. After all, it had been three months since you started ghosting him after he pleasured you in the studio. It was heartbreaking, really. He woke up without you and hadn’t seen you since then.

He lose it the moment he found out you left.

You were just too intelligent about evading him. He hated that.

Consequently, your intelligence was what also attracted him to you.

He was smiling down at you as you faced him. You looked behind him to see if your mother was anywhere near before completely laying it out on him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed, dropping his thick wrist. It was already dark and the only light was from the house and the street light situated outside. At your smaller form, his shadow was tauntingly touching you. He was so tall that you had to tilt your head to meet his intense stare full on. “And what do you mean fiancé?! You know what, I heard intelligent people tend to lose it but I never thought you would! And who said you can visit my mom, Kim Namjoon?! I need you to leave. You know she’s not well and any additional stress would be detrimental for her!”

You were breathing hard when you stopped berating him. Yet, he remained smiling at you, his dimpled cheeks would be considered charming if not for the fucked up thing that he did to you.

“I miss you,” he admitted softly, his eyes taking you in. God, he did miss you. It had been hell without you. You weren’t completely wrong, he did lose it. And he only managed to get his sanity back when he saw you. “Let’s not separate from each other this long again, my flower.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t miss you-“

“Don’t say things you don’t mean…you’re not a liar,” he teased as he shook his head a little. “And besides, do you have it in you to tell your mother the truth? Hmm? At her state, are you willing to break her heart?” He taunted you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “After all, isn’t it her wish to see her only child happy and married?”

Your eyes widened at his implication, at how he carelessly talked about your mother’s health. There were so many truths in what Namjoon said. He had you backed in the corner, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. “You need to lea-“

“Dinner’s ready!” Your mother shouted, her face relaxed, a rare sight since she started her treatment. It left you no choice but to nod at her assuringly before turning to look at you ex-boyfriend.

“You’re going to excuse yourself. You’re going to say you have a work emergency. You’re going to leave tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

His dark eyes twinkled with delight. “Yes, ma’am.”

You did make yourself clear, but you should have known he was a stubborn man. You were the one for him, and if that was the case, shouldn’t he fight with all his might to stay with you?

“I’m so full. Thank you for the meal,” he said politely, rubbing his stomach with a smile.

“You must have been so tired, Namjoon. Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

“Mom!” You called her in disbelief, your eyes widened at what she suggested.

“What?”

“W-we have no more room. I’m sure he’s needed back in Seoul.”

“No, I’m not. And you’re right, mother. I’m so weary I don’t think I can make it back safely to the city tonight.”

“See? You can sleep in her room.”

“Mom!” Wasn’t she the conservative type?

“It’s fine. He’s your fiancé. He’s practically family by now. If it was up to me, you two would be married by now.”

You were full on glaring at him as he entered your room after your mom bid the two of you good night. Namjoon smiled sweetly at you before putting his bag down. Wasn’t he too ready to stay here with that huge bag of his?

He looked around your small room, his huge frame making your bedroom looked even smaller.

“I thought I told you to leave?”

He nodded before standing in front of you, “Yes, you did.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember agreeing,” he murmured, gently sauntering to you similar to that of a hunter. His deep voice was making you feel things you didn’t want to feel, his proximity weakening your resolve.

You pushed his muscular chest non too gently. “I’m not playing this game with you, Namjoon. If you have any respect for me, you would leave me alone.”

He chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes gazing into yours. And before you knew it, you couldn’t stepped back anymore, your back completely against the wall. He lost all playfulness in his face, his hands on either side of you. “Who says I’m playing, flower?” He murmured, his face slowly leaning down to your neck. You felt him inhale your scent, the hair of your neck standing up. Perhaps, it recognized the danger you were in. You dared not move, waiting for the large man to do something. “And it’s because I respect us that I know we deserve another chance. I’m fighting for us, flower…regardless if I’m fighting alone.” Or fighting even you.

Seokjin

You scoffed at another bouquet of flowers delivered at your temporary apartment. Beside the flowers was a velvet box containing a gold necklace with a diamond pendant. The letter you were holding in your hand read that he missed you. It was the same thing everyday. You thought he was just wasting his time. You thought he would stop after a month. But it was almost three months and yet, the gifts kept coming. It was getting more ridiculous and more expensive as the days went by. At your anger, you threw his gifts one day. But then the morning came and he sent you a message that sent shivers down your spine.

‘Don’t throw away my gifts, sweetheart. You know it hurts me.’

But how did he know?

You weren’t even surprised that Seokjin was able to trace you, not when he had too much resources in his hands. You should have known the extent of his power. He never liked to wield his family’s power. Your Seokjin before was the most humble man you ever met, never boasting about their inherent wealth and position in the world. Yet, this Seokjin didn’t hesitate to use it when it came to you.

Apparently, you were his breaking point.

To be honest, you were terrified of him now. You felt like you were threading a thin line, and one of these days he would snapped.

You didn’t want to know what would happen then.

And so it felt like a blessing in disguise when you started working in a new company, only to find out that one of your closed professor was affiliated there as well. Now, you were offered to work a big project abroad. You didn’t even hesitate. You agreed and now it was only a week before you leave the country for a year.

You needed the space to think and heal yourself. The moment you left him was the moment you started focusing on yourself, giving your all to your career. After all, it was all you had left of you. You were no longer crying every night. You knew you were healing slowly.

As opposed to what your friends wanted you to do, you didn’t want to go out and date yet. You wanted to focus on yourself and be the best version of yourself. But his constant presence despite his absence was halting your progress. How could you move on completely if he kept reminding you that he was just there patiently waiting?

Perhaps, your own breaking point was when you received yet another gift from him. Only this time, it was a small, velvet box. Inside sat a ring with a huge diamond that almost blinded you from how it reflected back the light, as though it was taunting you. You knew what it was. You didn’t need to read the card he carefully wrote on to know what it was, ‘Sweetheart, let’s get married in June.’

At your unrestrained anger, you messaged him without thinking about where he was. In an instant, he replied that you should meet him at his restaurant, the one he secretly bought and showed you before in excitement. It was his first child, he said, something that was only his without the public knowing. You were there when it was merely starting, doing the hard work with him, dreaming with him, helping him.

Perhaps, that was why you were reluctant to go there. But you knew this had to stop. If you wanted to start anew with nothing and no one holding you back, you needed to speak to the man who broke you.

You parked your car in front of a dimly lit restaurant. With a pinched brows, you warily looked around. The place was usually full of people. Customers needed to book a table for a month before they could be catered.

So why then was it empty?

You would have turned around if not for the warm lights swarming a small area of place. You were surprised to see the door open. You were doubtful about his whereabouts, almost certain that he was messing with you if not for the message he sent that he was already there. The sound of your footsteps were deafening to you as you ventured further. You turned a corner and saw his seated form. He was looking at the floor to ceiling window, your personal touch. His eyes were focused on the scenic view outside as though he was deep in thought. With his legs spread apart and his hands resting leisurely on the table, Kim Seokjin looked as breathtaking as the day you met him.

You thought he looked even more handsome now. Of course, why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if it was him who lost sleep over a broken heart.

With a deep breath, you walked to him with a purpose. You shouldn’t feel self-conscious, but you did. His head turned to you slowly, his eyes taking you in. You didn’t even prepare for this. You were wearing your casual clothes, your hair in a tie and you weren’t even wearing an ounce of makeup. Yet he looked like that. He was wearing a white long sleeves, the one you bought him before. His hair was brushed away from his forehead. Kim Seokjin looked expensive.

You may looked however you liked and he would still think that you were the most precious person in the whole world. He still looked at you like you were the moon itself.

His lips tilted up when he met your eyes, “Sweetheart, you looked good-“

You marched to him and drank the glass of wine in front of him to completion. You needed the liquid courage to face him. He was watching you with raised brows, before signaling for the waiter to bring out the food and another glass.

“I ordered all your favorite food, sweetheart. Come on, take a seat-“

“Jin,” you called him with a gritted teeth. You slammed your hand on the table, leaning in to look at his eyes, willing him to see how serious you were. “You need to stop.”

He blinked, before tilting his head to the side. He leaned in closer to you, “Stop what, sweetheart?” He whispered with a tone of confusion.

“Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop.”

“Oh, you meant the gifts?” He asked in a thoughtful voice. You were appalled with the way he was acting. Was he really this delusional to think that what he was doing was in any way normal?

You took the offensive velvet box from your bag and placed it in front of him. He so slowly looked from your eyes down to the box you placed in front of him. “Didn’t you like the ring?”

Suddenly, you felt like you lost all strength just from dealing with him. You sat down in front of him, willing the heavens to give you the patience you didn’t possess at the moment.

“Why on earth would you give me an engagement ring, Seokjin?”

“Hmm, but aren’t we dating to marry?” He asked, flashing you his sweet smile. Yet, his eyes remained empty. “Isn’t that the goal, sweetheart?”

“It was the goal before you broke my heart.”

He reached across the table, and you were too slow to evade his touch. He held your hands in his larger ones, his face contorting into regret and sadness, “And I said sorry…numerous times, sweetheart. Until when are you going to punish us over an oversight? Over something that I would atone for the rest of my life? Until when are you going to be away from me?” His eyes glistened with tears, his voice sincere- so sincere that you were almost swayed.

But apologies meant nothing when you were still shattered on the ground.

You shook your head slowly, meeting his eyes with you determined ones. “I know you are sorry, Jin. And I am, too. But it doesn’t change the fact that we broke up.”

“Sweetheart, no-“

“You need to stop,” you squeezed his hand before he could even say anymore. You needed to finish this, you needed to close this chapter of your life. “No matter what you do, I’m not coming back anymore. I’m leaving Korea. I need to move on,” you whispered, looking at the eyes of the man you once loved more than yourself. You offered him a sad smile for all the things you two went through, for all the happy memories and love that had nowhere else to go anymore. You smiled for the life you had with him, and now you were turning your back on it. “And you need to move on, too.”

You left him sitting there, alone with his head bowed down.

You felt lighter than you did in the past few months. You felt like you could breathe now. With an unhurried movement, you walked to your car and opened the door when a large hand suddenly pushed the door shut again. Heart beating faster, you turned around only to find Jin towering over you. He was breathing hard, his eyes burned with something you couldn’t name. He had yet to turn to you, his body so close to you that you could feel heat emitting from him.

“J-Jin-“

He shook his head, strands of his dark hair falling on his forehead. “You’re not leaving Korea,” he stated, his brows furrowed. His jaw was clenched when he finally looked at you. “You’re not leaving me.”

Yoongi

“Honey, he’s here..again,” your friend warned you knowingly before walking past you to her cubicle. You looked heavenward and groaned. If Yoongi thought bombarding you with his presence would do him any good, he couldn’t be anymore wrong. It had been a full month since he started showing up wherever you were, uncaring if anyone recognized him. No matter where you ran, he would show up with a sad look on his face as though you kicked his dog. As though it was him who was hurt and not you.

The moment you stepped out of the building, Yoongi smiled at you. He was sporting an undercut- a thing you noticed despite him wearing a cap. It was for another of the group’s music video, another concept that the fans were anticipating. He walked near to you, his hand reaching for your bag when you evaded his touch. He frowned when you did, sadness clouding his features. “How was your day, kitten?”

You glared at him, the words of your officemates still fresh in your mind. They thought you didn’t hear them, but you did. His actions were making them think that he was the one to be pitied when it was you that he broke. It was you who cried herself to sleep for so long that you thought you were going to die from sadness.

“I know. It’s such a bitch thing to do.”

“Right? Who does she think she is?”

“That poor guy.”

Was it your fault that this was how you wanted to move on?

Was it your fault you wanted nothing more to do with him?

“Until when are you going to do this?”

He blinked slowly, his face showing all the seriousness he had. “Until you come back to me.”

“I’m not. I’m never going to come back to a cheater,” you said with a smile on your face before walking away from him.

“Maybe you should date again?”

“What?” You sputtered out, shifting your focus from your laptop to your friend who was standing beside you, leaning against the stack of paper you had in your office table.

“Well, Yoongi wouldn’t stop, right?”

“Right…”

“What if he see you out with someone else? Then maybe he’d accept that the two of you are finally done.”

You thought long and hard about what she said, and maybe…just maybe this would work. You chose to ignore the warning thump of your heart, the one that knew how possessive he was, the one that knew how he reacted before when you interacted with other men.

You found yourself thoroughly enjoying someone else’s company. It was the first date, yet he managed to intrigue you. His quick wit, sense of humor, and gentlemanly ways softened your heart. You were still smiling when you entered your apartment late at night. In your arms was the beautiful bouquet of flowers he got you. You turned on the light and walked to your home when you saw him.

You screamed when you saw Min Yoongi sitting on your sofa, his eyes staring at nothingness. He looked…dangerous, as though he was one wrong move away from losing it. Slowly, so slowly, he looked at you and then at the flowers you were holding.

You wanted to hide it from his vicious eyes. You wanted to hide it as though you did something wrong. But you didn’t…right?

“What the fuck are you doing here?! This is trespassing!”

He chuckled humorlessly before tilting his head to the side, “How was your date, kitten?”

You stepped back without a thought when he stood up. “Y-you need to leave,” your voice trembled, your eyes widened and your breaths were shallowed. Yoongi looked…unstable.

“Are we equal now, kitten?” He murmured, his legs carrying him closer to you. He looked really curious, “I broke your trust, so your broke my heart.”

“It’s not the same-“

“Does that mean all is fair now?” His low voice scared you now that he was nearer. His dark eyes taking you in. “Will you take me back now?”

“I didn’t cheat on you. You did. We are done. How does that count as cheating?”

“I’m getting impatient, kitten,” he confessed, looking down at his feet. He poked his tongue in his cheek, before slowly looking up at you. “I need you back or else…I think I’m really going to lose it…”

You tried to push his body away from you, eager to create distance between the two of you. But his body remained grounded in front of you. “You need to leave-“

“You’re going to love me again,” he stated, so certain that you would. His dark eyes bore into yours. You were so distracted and intimidated with his proximity that you failed to notice the syringe he was holding. And before you knew it, a stinging pain could be felt in your neck.

And then you lost consciousness. But you need not worry, kitten. He was there to catch you.

“It’s done,” he said as soon as Hoseok picked up the phone. “Meet us in front.”

Hoseok

You frowned as you looked down at your ringing phone. Your ex’s sister had been endlessly attempting to contact you, yet you didn’t bother to read any of her messages. You only messaged her once to inform her that her brother and you were done, and you thanked her profusely on the kindness she showed on you. After all, she was almost like a family to you. Perhaps, that was why his betrayal hurt more. He wasn’t the only one out of your life, but for your peace of mind and healing, his family as well.

It had been more than two months since you escaped from him with the help of Namjoon. It had been that long since you blocked every communication you had with him.

His betrayal still burned, but you were in the path of healing.

In fact, your friend convinced you to go out and try again. She said you didn’t have to take the dates seriously, that you could just dipped your toes into the water again. You were in a relationship for so long that she wanted you to see what was out there. And so, you were trying.

You realized there was so much out there than what you originally thought.

Your phone rang once again when you got off work. Your finger hovered over the screen, and something told you that you should answer her. You brought your phone to your ear, your voice small as your greeted her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you finally answered!” Her voice was oozing with worry, and if you could see her now you would pity the kind woman.

“W-why? Are you okay?”

“It’s about Hoseok-“

You were shaking your head before she could even finish, “I don’t want to know anything about him anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know, I’m so sorry what he did was so wrong that I haven’t been speaking to him. I am on your side, Y/N. Completely. B-but…he’s my brother, too. I’m not asking you to take him back. I just… I just don’t know what to do. He needs help, Y/N,” she hurriedly stated, scared that you wouldn’t hear her out. She knew what she was going to ask of you was too much, but her love for her brother outweighed the shame.

You were quiet for so long that she thought you dropped the call. You were thinking hard about what she was saying. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t even want to care.

“What are you asking from me?”

“Just go to him. Just once. J-just convince him to seek help. Please. My mother and I no longer know what to do.”

You found yourself waiting outside the apartment you once shared with him, your eyes focused on your shoes as you waited for Hoseok’s sister to open the door. You didn’t want to presume that the code didn’t change. You didn’t even want to try, you didn’t want to know.

“You’re here,” her worried voice woke you up from your reverie. She wrapped her arms around you gently like an old friend would before stepping away and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “I’m really sorry for what happened. And I’m so sorry for dragging you back into this mess.”

You couldn’t even say it was fine because it wasn’t. Instead, you squeezed her hands and offered her an understanding smile. She lead you to what was once your room, pausing outside the door. She hesitated before looking at you.

“H-he’s not the most stable lately. Ever since Jimin saw you out with someone else, he has been like this…”

“Jimin told him that?” You asked in disbelief, racking your brain on the past few dates you went to, all of which were harmless. When did Jimin see you?

She sighed before shaking her head, “He really shouldn’t have told him that. He knew how…intense Hoseok is when it comes to you. You’ll see.”

She knocked lightly on the closed door before opening it. The room was dark and cold, extremely opposite to how it was when you lived there. The only light that seeped through was now from the hallway. You could barely see a man’s form lying down on the bed, his back facing the door.

“Hoseok, you have a visitor,” she called him tenderly, opening the door further so you could step in. Yet, you didn’t. You didn’t know if you should.

“Send them away,” he answered in the coldest and lowest voice you had ever heard from him. He didn’t even lift his head, didn’t even want to acknowledge whoever it was.

“Hoseok, maybe you should-“

“I said I don’t want to talk to anyone! I want to be alone! I deserve to be alone-“ he suddenly screamed, turning his head to your direction. The vein in his neck was protruding from the force of his emotions. And the way he suddenly lost all his anger, the way his face mellowed down from fury to disbelief shocked you.

Suddenly, he had the strength when it had been months since he felt like he lost all his firmness. He stood up and ran to you, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you with wander in his eyes. His lips were trembling, his eyes looked desperate and borderline crazed as he finally saw the love of his life standing in front of him after you evaded him for months. It had been so long since he broke your heart and you in turn shattered his very being.

Didn’t you know he wouldn’t survive without you?

Didn’t you know he’d rather perished than live in his world without you by his side?

His tears were falling from his eyes, drenching your hands that were trying to push his hand aside. “Angel,” he called for you sweetly, his trembling as he gazed into your eyes. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, my angel. I’ve busied myself buying you everything that you deserve. Our closet is full of things I know you’d like. Would you like to take a look?”

Your eyes widened the more he opened his mouth, the more you listened to his words that made no sense. You turned to look at his sister who was looking at you with worry. This was what she meant. Her brother did nothing but to fill his days with the thoughts of you, and yet he failed to take care of himself.

It didn’t get past your notice that he looked tired, that he looked as though he hadn’t been paying attention to himself. It was so opposite to what you knew of him. Hoseok was particular with the way he presented himself. He was disciplined in himself. But the man holding you right now was anything but the well-made man you knew.

Hoseok looked thinner.

“I-I’m not here to come back to you,” you said in a wary voice, pushing him away but this time, you were successful. You tried to be as gentle as possible. After all, before the worst, he was the best. Before he broke you, he completed you. You were gentle to the version of Hoseok who loved you with all his heart, not the one who cheated on you.

He looked confused and saddened by your actions, his head tilted to the side.

“No. No! You’re here because you forgive me, right?” He insisted, his form kept on coming near you despite you evading his touches. “You’re here because those boys can’t love you the way I do, right?!”

“Hoseok,” your voice trembled, your eyes shining with tears by just seeing his current state. You understood now why his sister was worried; Hoseok was on edge of the cliff.

He suddenly stopped, his arms falling lifelessly to his side. His head was bowed down, his dark hair obstructing his face.

“I hurt you,” he concluded sadly. The tall man in front of you looked like a lost child, like he had lost all the hope in the world and had already given up. “I hurt you. And I should just die.”

What?

You hadn’t even processed what he said when he walked briskly to the kitchen, his strides purposeful. You and his sister ran after him, and you were almost too late. He had opened a bottle of pills and poured the contents in his open palm. He was about to put them inside his mouth when you hugged him so tight that he accidentally let go of them. They clattered on the floor around his feet.

You were openly crying now, your shoulders shaking. Your unstoppable tears drenched his shirt- and it was enough to snap him from whatever he was doing. He turned around, his brows pinched together as he looked at your unconsolable form.

“W-why are you crying, my angel?” Hoseok asked, tilting you chin to meet his empty eyes. “You don’t want me gone?”

You shook your head, pained that he was even capable of doing what he was about to do. “N-no. Please-“

“You love me?” He asked, hope in his eyes. “You take me back, then?”

His sister was watching the two of you, and at your hesitation, she mouthed ‘please’.

And so you nodded, and Hoseok pulled you in his arms, never to let you go. You didn’t see the smirk he had in his face.

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