#i feel like it only makes sense when i use brushes

[luvyeni]

finally telling hyunjin what you want

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 현진 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre smut ⸝⸝ content warning. shy!reader. unprotected sex. word count. 0.6k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ im gonna start doing longer fics i promise, these are just so much easier and i get more requests done .

you were always good at getting what you wanted from hyunjin without saying much — and it wasn’t like you couldn’t say anything; no , he wasn’t like that , he always made you feel like you had a say. it was just that you weren’t good at fully expressing yourself , but it seem like it didn’t matter with hyunjin because he knew when you needed something.

except now it seems like all his good sense was gone , because you had been expressing your need for him throughout the entire day but he just wasn’t getting it — you didn’t say much but the hints were dropping should’ve told him.

wearing his favorite outfit only got you a kiss on the cheek and a pat to the butt. sitting on his lap while he was watching tv was also a fail , he just wrapped his arms around you wanting to cuddle while finishing the film.

you even hinted at showering with him and he didn’t even pick up on that and he loves shower sex. you were so horny and he was acting so clueless , you didn’t know how long it was before you just … snapped. “hey muse.” he said seeing you walk into his art room. “hyune.” you wrapped your arms around his neck , watching him paint. “im just finishing up a painting , you hungry?” you smiled because he knew you so well. “we’ll order something in a minute.”

“that’s not it.” you said , he stopped , putting the paint brush down. “are you not feeling well?” he asked , you chewed on your bottom lip , the need for him intensifying. “what’s wrong?” he asked , now facing you , giving you a full look at him , which didn’t help at all. “baby look at me.” he grabbed your cheeks. “what’s wrong?”

“i need you.” you blurted out. “you need me?” he said , you squeezed his hand. “please.” it seems like the please finally made him realize. “oh you need me.” he smirked. “well how so?” he asked , tilting his head to the side. “um …” you stammered , his gaze making the ache in between your legs worse. “don’t worry princess , i know exactly what you need.” he stood up , holding your head. “come on , let’s go to the bedroom.”

“is this what you wanted?” he had your legs pressed against you in a mean mating press; his cock stuffed inside you. “ye-yes , please.” you cried out as he plowed into you softly. “it feels so good.” you moaned , he cooed down at you. “does it?” he smiled. “you like my cock stretching you out like this?” you nodded. “ye-yeah.”

his cock filling you up, kissing your cervix over and over and he held open your legs , using his thumb to trace circles on your clit. “hyune please.” you begged , you don’t know for what , but you wanted more — no you needed more. “come on, use your words like you did before.” he slowed down his movements so you could feel all of him. “what do you need from me muse?”

“m-more , hyune.” you moaned out. “i need more.” he smiled , feeling your warm cunt fluttering around him , sucking him like a vice. “fuck , good girl.” he hissed , speeding up. “using your words , what happened to the shy girl who could barely look at me?” he hit that spot inside you that had you screaming out loudly. “so fucked out pretty , so so pretty; you gonna cum?” you nodded. “go ahead and cum.” with his permission you were cumming. “fuck im cumming.” he let out a huff , then a groan; filling you up with his seed. “hyune.”

he kissed your cheek softly. “so cute baby.” you covered your face shyly. “stop it.” he giggled. “no don’t hide your pretty face , let me see.” he grabbed both your hands , pulling them away. “good girl.”

“now let me eat your pretty pussy for being such a good girl for me.”

©️LUVYENI

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-one: The Distance Between Us

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous | 21 | next

Series Masterlist

The night felt different after the incident with the panther mask. The sharp edges of tension that had once crackled between you and In-ho now simmered quietly beneath the surface, but something was shifting. You could feel it—he wasn’t pulling away in the way he had before, but there was something else. Something unspoken. He had changed after that moment of confrontation. It wasn’t just about the panther anymore, it was about you—and about him.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the room heavy with silence. In-ho had barely spoken since the two of you returned to the suite. The brief moments of calm, of connection that had once sparked between you, had started to feel distant, like they belonged to someone else.

You didn’t know when it had happened—when the distance had crept in—but now it felt like something had shifted irrevocably. The softness in his gaze, the way he’d brushed your cheek earlier, the almost unguarded way he held you as the panther’s presence had loomed—those moments had been real, but they felt like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp. You had almost convinced yourself that he was beginning to let go, that maybe, just maybe, he was opening up to the idea of letting you in.

But tonight, it felt like he was closing off again.

You turned toward his side of the bed, only to find it empty. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of his movements on the other side of the suite. You didn’t need to look to know he wasn’t asleep. You could feel it—his restless energy had filled the room, and you could sense the way he was holding something back.

You sat up, pulling the blanket off your shoulders as you slipped out of bed and padded across the room. The lights were dim, casting soft shadows across the room, but even in the near-darkness, you could see the tension in his shoulders as he stood by the window, staring out into the night.

“In-ho?” you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room.

He didn’t answer right away. The seconds ticked by in silence as you stepped closer, the weight of the moment settling heavily between you.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice strained, distant. “Go back to sleep.”

You stopped just short of him, your gaze tracing the lines of his back. Something in his tone made your chest tighten, a small flare of concern igniting in you. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. There was something more to this, something you weren’t seeing.

“You’re not fine,” you said softly, your voice gentle but firm. “In-ho, you’ve been… distant. Ever since that night. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can feel it. What’s happening?”

He didn’t respond right away, his hands gripping the windowsill as though he were trying to hold onto something—anything. The silence between you felt like it stretched for miles.

Finally, he turned, his gaze meeting yours for the first time since you’d entered the room. His eyes were darker than usual, almost pained. “You don’t understand,” he said, the words heavy, as if they were forced out of him.

You frowned, stepping closer, your heart pounding. “What don’t I understand? In-ho, please… talk to me. You’re shutting me out, and I don’t know why.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t know what it’s like,” he murmured, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. To lose her… to lose a part of yourself in the process.”

Your breath caught, the air around you suddenly feeling thick with the weight of his confession. You knew about his wife and the child they had lost, the death that still haunted him. But hearing him say it, so raw, made something tighten deep inside you.

“I do know, In-ho,” you said quietly, your voice soft but insistent. “I know you’re still hurting. But I’m not asking you to forget her, or to replace her. I’m here. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He closed his eyes, and for a moment, you thought he might let you in. That brief flicker of vulnerability you’d seen before was there again, but it quickly faded behind a wall of coldness.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with something that felt almost like shame. “I can’t… I can’t love you like this. I’m not whole. I’m not ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. And I’m afraid that if I let myself… if I let you get too close, I’ll lose you the same way I lost her. And I can’t… I can’t go through that again.”

His words cut through you, each one heavier than the last. The air in the room felt suffocating, and you took a step back, as though trying to process the weight of what he’d said. You could feel the struggle inside him—this deep, internal war that kept him locked in the past, unable to move forward.

“In-ho,” you whispered, your voice shaking just a little, “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going anywhere. I want to be with you. I am with you. But I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

He stood there, silent, his back to you once again as he tried to mask the turmoil behind the mask of indifference.

“I can’t do this right now,” he said abruptly, his voice hardening again, like a shield descending between you. “I need space. I… I have to go. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Before you could protest, before you could try to convince him that you understood, he moved quickly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading toward the door. You opened your mouth to call out to him, but the words got stuck in your throat. There was nothing more you could say.

He paused at the door, his hand on the handle, but he didn’t turn around. “I’ll be back later,” he said in a voice that held no trace of the warmth it had once had. “I just… I need to clear my head.”

And with that, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him with a quiet finality that left you standing alone in the middle of the room. The silence felt oppressive now, the air thick with the weight of what had just transpired. You could still feel the echo of his words hanging in the air, the finality in his tone.

You didn’t know when he would come back. Or if he would come back with the same look in his eyes.

But you knew one thing: In-ho was still fighting. Fighting against what he felt, fighting against what he needed, and fighting against you. And right now, there was nothing you could do but wait.

This version stays true to the evolving dynamic between you and In-ho, where the closeness is still there, but his fear of losing you—and his unresolved grief—leads him to pull back. The emotional tone of Chapter 20 is carried forward, where there’s a real bond forming, but with In-ho’s unresolved trauma and hesitations still holding him back.

———————

Chapter twenty-one!! Woops they’re back to being distanced… I couldn’t let them be happy this easily lol. As always lemme know what you think! Thank you!

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[reverieblondie]

Look Out Spot

A/N: I made this inspired by this lovely ask! (here) Thank you to @dark-and-kawaii for letting me write and use pics of her OC Kieran (he's so bad and so dreamy)

Rolan, Cal, Kieran, and Zevlor

Warning MDNI 18+ only!

Rolan

When you extend the offer for Lia and Cal to join your party and camp, you forget about the tall, haughty, kind of sexy older brother…

You and Rolan are like oil and water, constantly arguing at each other's throats. If he wasn't their sibling or talented, you would have smacked him down a while ago... Okay, maybe not actually, but you really would like to put him in his place. Especially tonight...

Somehow, your companions decided it would be a good idea to go on a stealth mission to the nearby goblin camp while you and Rolan played the roles of lookout. You had insisted you didn't need any help, but of course, Rolan challenged you. "Knowing your airheaded tendencies, you will need a babysitter to keep you aware." it makes you seeth through the back of your teeth.

Looking over your shoulder in the cramped hiding spot you see Rolan looking as disinterested in this mission as he can, leaning against a rock and looking out into the distance with his damned golden eyes... ugh, what is he doing posing?! As soon as you tsk, he slides his eyes over to you, catching you staring... He narrows his eyes at you and puts on his iconic sexy scowl.

"You should spend less time staring at me and focusing more on the enemies. If you did that, I wouldn't have to be here."

Gods, he makes your blood boil. You stand from where you are both crowded in between the rocks hiding you two. It's only one step before you're right in Rolan's face. Being this close makes details, like the curve of his nose and the freckles that dust his skin, more visible to you.

"If you want to complain, then leave! You look like you're not even paying attention to your side anyway! "

"I would love to leave, but someone has to keep you in line!" he hisses back. 

You roll your eyes and scoff, "Worry less about me and more about where you're supposed to be watching." 

Rolan's jaw tightens slightly before he leans forward and presses his hands on both sides of your head, pinning you to a rock; he's so close you can smell his natural musk... and feel his gentle breath on you. 

"You're the one I keep catching staring..." 

You feel your face suddenly flush before getting back to your senses. In the crowded corner, you push yourself off the rock behind you to slide past Rolan. "Just leave your distracting the mission."

While you're trying to pass by Rolan to take over his cramped lookout spot, you brush your backside over his front to squeeze past. Rolan tries to prevent it, but he's too late as your ass moves against his front, and that's when you feel something hard against you. In almost a state of shock, you move against him again, and that's when Rolan's eyes roll with a groan, and his large hands immediately come to still your hips. You feel his chest pant against your back, and still, in shock, you forget all about your stealth mission. 

"Rolan, are you h-"

Before you can finish your loud statement, Rolan slaps his hand over your mouth. "shh! You will get us caught, you ass!" 

You wiggle your face free, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. "Why are you hard?! " you whisper and yell.

"It wasn't on purpose! It just... happened..."

"Just happened? That doesn't just happen!" 

"Well, it's not my fault you're bending over on your knees right before me! And trousers are too bloody tight!" Rolan finally cracks out before letting you go. 

Rolan tries to walk away, but he can't get far in the tight tunnel of rocks you're in. You were ready to make fun of him and call him a pervert, but as you see his back facing you, you notice his tail twisted tightly to his old leg. He's embarrassed…

"Rolan, " you try meekly, but you're still not quite sure what to say. You have urges, but it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Rolan Scoffs before turning to look at you, "It's not urges... It's you."

You look at him, Surprised, "Me?"

"Yes!" Rolan finally faces you, fully dragging his hands over his face before continuing. "You're a damned airhead never paying attention and staring off... and in the mornings, you're so drowsy, unable to function till you eat... After your baths, you have no qualms just walking around in a towel; you always stand so bloody close! And you argue till you're blue!" 

Rolan's eye meets yours and furrows his brows, "Then there's that damn pout…"

You look at him confused, "Pout?" 

He steps closer, still irritated, and taps his finger to your bottom lip, "Yes, this little pout you do with your lips makes you look so adorable... So it's not your ass that's driving me so crazy, it's just you, Your making me fucking mad over here," 

It leaves you speechless; not only is Rolan confessing... but he's also cursing. 

Rolan rolls his eyes before moving his hand away, "Figures this is when you finally shut up." 

Your next move was so fast it gave you whiplash. You quickly grab Rolan, making him turn, gently cup his face, and you press your lips to him before you can say anything. The kiss heats up quickly as Rolan wraps his arms around you while you preach your tongue. through his lips, finally tasting his wicked tongue.

It's not long before you're both on the ground, your clothes in a gathered pile on the side while you finally succumb to both of your desires... your mission is no longer on your mind... The only thing you can think of as you claw his back is how full Rolan is making you feel and if you can keep indulging in him till morning.

Cal

Of course, when the grove's gate was running short on watchmen for the late-night watch, you were among the first to volunteer for the dull duty. You did not expect Cal to hold his hand to join you on the watch right after you volunteered. Cal is so tall and strong and a complete sweetheart; you two have slowly gotten to know each other more and more each day your party stays at the grove. Cal's become your little bright spot through these struggles. He always smiles and jokes with you whenever you come around. Sometimes, you feel guilty for taking up his time. It's clear he doesn't get much time to himself, considering he has to keep Lia and Rolan from killing each other, but you just can't help yourself when it comes to him.

Now that you're here with him, sitting out in the cold with only the sounds of the distant woods filling the space, you're finding one more thing you can't help... you're so nervous! After all the conversations you two have had, why is this the time you're getting clammed up?! It makes no sense... So now here you two sit completely alone and in complete silence... You're trying to think of anything to talk about as you rub your hands together to try and make them warmer from the biting cold.

While you're warming up your hands or trying to, Cal is reaching over and taking your hands in his. Instantly, in his touch, your hands warm up from his comfortable heat. You look at him wordlessly, trying to hide the fact that your heart is currently racing, making your whole body start to flush.

"Is that better?" he smiles as he holds your hand tightly. You're tempted to start chattering your teeth so he can hold you.

"Much better; it must be so nice to always be warm."

"It was more of a burden, especially during the summers, I always get so hot, and I would come home dripping in sweat." 

You two share a laugh, but you see a negative thing about him, especially if he is shirtless. The thought sends an excited shiver through your body, and Cal looks at you confused. "Still trembling, huh? We can't have our hero freezing now, can we?"

Cal brings his hand to your hip, sliding you until you're flushed against his side. He wraps his arms around you like it's the most normal thing ever, and it's taking everything in you not to cling to him.

Cal's breath is so warm that it fans against your ear. "They would have my head if anything happened to you... So I better try and warm you up quickly."

"I think you're doing a great job at that..."

He smiles as his orange eyes trace over you. He brings his hand to cup your face and traces his thumb over your cheeks. "I must be. You look like you're running a fever now." Quickly, you bring your own hands to your cheeks, where, of course, they are fuming!

"Guess you're just too hot for me..." 

As soon as the words slip from your mouth, you want to slap yourself. You're too embarrassed to look at what you sure is an embarrassed face, but all you hear is his laughter, 

Cal turns your face so you have to look at him. "As long as I'm helpful to you, that's all I care about."

"I think you're helpful to everyone, I know Rolan and Lia think so."

"I'm kind of selfish if I'm being honest," Cal meekly admits. Selfish? You would describe Cal in many different ways, but selfish is not one of them.

"Why would you say that?"

It's Cal's turn to blush as he shyly looks into the distance. "Well, I didn't offer to be on watch for the good of the grove... I did it so I could spend time with you…"

You laugh at his confession, "You could have just told me that Cal."

"I couldn't help it! You make me nervous!" You both look at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Cal grabs you close, practically pulling you into his lap." We should keep taking over the late watches, then. I like that here I get you all to myself. "You feel that same heartbeat rush again. If you're going to continue to get closer to Cal, you're going to need to learn how to settle your nerves.

Kieran

Look out, duty... it should be easy; you have a wire of copper read for your sending spell to Gale... you just have to wait till you see the mercenaries for your party to act... If they slip past you, it can mean several more weeks of tracking down that tome that went missing from the Wizards tower. Tensions have been growing at camp, mainly because everyone just wants to return home... but you can't help from thinking everyone at camp is peeved at you…

Damn him for distracting you... It's a mistake you swear will not happen again; you're supposed to be the leader, the one to see past bull shit... not the one falling for it.

However, when you think back on his smooth voice... Shining eyes... anyone could have been ensnared. Kieran just has that effect on people. 

Pushing down those past thoughts, you look back at the moonlit road, looking for any signs of life. A twig snaps behind you, and before you can react, a hand is over your mouth, and a knife is threatening your neck. Then, the familiar feeling of a tail twisting up your body makes you squirm. 

The same arrogant chuckle vibrates through the air before his velvet voice speaks, "I was told to find any lookouts, and here I've found a lost kitten." his lips come right to the shell of your ear, giving a teasing lick, making you groan and squirm, "Trying to get in everyone's good graces again by playing lookout pretty girl?"

Your huff is enough for him to understand your irritation, but he only seems to delight in it further. He pushes the knife closer to your neck, "Alright, kitten. I'm going to move my hand so I can hear that pretty voice. You better not try anything?"

You huff, then nod, "Good."

Kieran lets his hand drop from your mouth, but before you can turn, he's wrapping his arms around you, keeping you pinned close, his tail tightening for added measure. You hiss at the tight grip and try hard not to blush as his lips press to your neck.

"So you're working for the mercenaries, I should have known...". You practically growl at him; Kieran smiles before giving a quick nip at your neck. It takes everything in you not to whimper at the attention; he's toying with you..."Well, they did pay well... but honestly, that group is so dull... hints as to why I haven't slit that pretty throat of yours, kitten.

"What do you want Kieran?"

He smiles, holding you tighter, burying his face into the nape of your neck as his cock rubs against your ass. "I want to hear those soft little moans again like I did that night.." 

You feel yourself flush, that night….

You bite your lip as you feel his hands roam down over your breast to your waist... You hate how dumb he makes you... but it would be a lie to say you hate the way he feels... 

"I-I can't... You whisper, trying to hold strong all Kieran has to do is lightly suck your neck and play with the hem of your trousers.

"But you can be a good girl; you help me... and I will help you....."

A part of you knows this has to be some trick... he's played with you before... You're on a mission, and he's with the enemy... but when you feel his hot tongue teasing your skin and his fingers roam, you melt.

Kieran doesn't wait for your confirmation; the feeling of your body relaxing is all he needs before pushing his hand down your pants. His long fingers quickly find your clit toying and pitching it, making you twitch and arch. It's when he steadily starts to roll his fingers on your sensitive nub that you start to softly whimper. 

"That's it, kitten... feels good, huh?" He purrs in your ear, only spurring you on more. Kieran licks his lips as he feels you get as wet for him. 

You unravel so quickly for him, softly moaning his name as you reach your arms behind you to caress his neck and handsome face. Kieran is all too pleased as he starts to fuck you slowly with his two fingers.

The sudden intrusion makes you keenly loud, but he is quick to shush you softly. "Shh, kitten. You have to be quiet, or we will get caught... and we don't want that, do we?"

You shake your head, not making Kieran speed up his pace, forcing you to bite your lip.

"Good girl..."

+++++

Your party walks back to camp defeated... the mercenaries slipped past you.....

Astarion glares his eyes at you, "How the hell did you do now? You miss them! What Were you doing?"

Shadowheart steps between you two". Enough; fighting now won't fix it. We will have a new plan tomorrow, Right Tav?" She looks at you expectantly, and you avoid her gaze. You let everyone down again. 

You walk over to your tent, ready to hide away, when something catches your eye. You open the flap, and the missing tome—covered in blood and a note beside the book—catches your eye next. 

A deal, a deal, kitten... I will See you again soon... K

Zevlor

You're unsure if you're more nervous that everyone is counting on you to tell them when the last tent's candle goes out... or you're alone with Zevlor at your lookout spot.

This was just supposed to be a simple stealth mission to check out a nearby camp, and then Zevlor would come with you. This would have been normally very exciting for you, but after what you did, now you're mortified. 

What do you even say to someone after impulsively kissing them and running away? Turning around, you see where Zevlor is standing, his fiery eyes already on you. You watch as his eyes move from your lips back to your eyes, and it feels like you've been hit by a fireball. 

Quickly, you turn back around, trying to hide your embarrassment. Zevlor must hate you now. Trying to focus back on your mission, you try to ignore the sound of his rustling armor and the new warmth at your side. You don't have to look over to know that Zevlor is at your side. What you didn't expect, however, was when he gently pulled your face towards him, forcing you to meet his handsome face staring at you with an authoritative intensity.

"Are we supposed to ignore what happened? Because I am unsure if I can." He says so calmly that it sends a shiver through you. He is so commanding that he doesn't need to raise his voice, and you will still do whatever he says. 

"Do you hate me now, Zevlor..." He looks surprised for a moment before he puts on his charming smile. 

"No, I think the best way to explain it is now I am completely enamored and anxious for more." 

From the start, there's been a pull between you two, but now, instead of an aching want, that feeling is now a burning need.

A burning need to have his lips back on yours, to taste his tongue against yours, to feel his warmth against you as he pins you against the nearest thing. 

You need to wrap your legs around his waist, you need to hear his soft moans as you kiss along his neck, and you need to feel his cock as deep as possible as he finally sheaths himself inside of you. You just hope your companions understand your need when they ask why you never gave the signal… 

[andromeda-pleiades]

Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 1,028

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

I've written the second part, but I want to break this into 3 parts. So the second will come out at night or tomorrow.

Part - 2

Maybe you shouldn’t have dated Simon.

Lord knows he isn’t the most stable man. Between the night terrors and the need for constant reassurance that you love him, he was the poster child for red flags. But red flags are easier to ignore when they’re wrapped in soft smiles and strong arms, aren’t they?

So, it comes as no surprise when you notice an app you don’t recognize on your phone.

It sits there innocently enough, nestled between your email and social media apps, but you’ve never seen it before. The icon—a blank, generic symbol—seems deliberately nondescript, almost as if it’s trying too hard not to stand out.

Your thumb hovers over the screen.

The moment you tap it, a prompt appears: Enter Password.

Your stomach twists.

Jesus Christ, Simon. What do you think I’m doing?

You don’t need to be a tech expert to figure it out: the app is meant to spy on you. What it’s monitoring—your location, your texts, your app history—is the only mystery.

Deleting it would be the logical move, but that’s not an option. Simon would notice. He notices everything. And you know he could win an Olympic gold medal in jumping to conclusions.

So, what to do?

You close the app and lock your phone, your heart pounding. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe it’s just a weird app you forgot you downloaded. Or maybe Simon has taken his possessiveness to a new level.

You decide to get out of the house.

The local sandwich shop isn’t much—a fluorescent-lit counter, a couple of mismatched tables—but it’s familiar, and more importantly, it’s public. Simon hates crowded places; the noise and chaos set him on edge. This is one of the few spots you feel like you can breathe.

You’re halfway through your order when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, long time no see.”

You turn to find Kyle. His easy smile and warm eyes are a stark contrast to Simon’s calculated demeanor. Kyle was a friend from years ago—before Simon, before everything. You’d lost touch, but here he is, as if no time has passed.

“Kyle? Wow, it’s been ages,” you say, surprised at how natural it feels to smile back.

“You look great,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “How’ve you been?”

You chat for a few minutes, the kind of light, easy conversation you’ve forgotten you’re capable of having. It’s a rare moment of normalcy—until Kyle glances at his watch.

“I’d love to catch up more, but I’ve got to run. Let’s not make this the last time we bump into each other, okay?”

“Sure,” you say, though the odds of reconnecting feel slim.

Kyle gives you a quick hug, his hand lingering lightly on your back, then heads for the door.

You smile to yourself, picking up your tray, when it hits you—your phone and wallet are gone.

Your heart drops. Frantically, you pat your pockets, rummage through your bag, even check under the table. Nothing.

Panic tightens your chest. Did I drop them? Did someone take them?

A man wirh the most ridiculous haircut brushes past you on his way out. You lock onto him, suspicion flaring, but he’s already gone.

Kyle’s gone. The phone’s gone.

The app. You didn’t delete it. You couldn't. That stupid app, the one Simon uses to track you—how much did he see? Was he checking on you now? Was it only a matter of time before you realized it was gone too?

And now, with your phone gone, you have no way of knowing what Simon might already know. No way of tracking where your phone is. No way of knowing if Simon has access to everything you’ve done. You clench your fists.

You need to get it back.

You stand frozen for a moment in the middle of the sandwich shop, still processing the absence of your phone and wallet. You glance at the door, trying to make sense of what just happened. Kyle is long gone, slipping out into the busy street, leaving you standing there, uncertain of what to do next.

A feeling of panic gnaws at you, but you push it down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. It’s just a phone. You’ll find it, or you’ll figure something else out.

But when you check your wallet again, your heart sinks. It’s the second thing gone.

Your fingers tremble as you gather your things, scanning the floor one more time, but it’s no use. Your things are gone, and there's no point in standing here any longer. The unease creeps back in. What now?

You step out of the sandwich shop, pulling your coat tighter around you. The cold air does little to calm your nerves.

You don’t bother checking your watch or asking around. The last thing you need is attention right now. Instead, you slip your hand into your bag, fingers brushing the empty spot where your phone should be. Panic rises again.

Just as you’re about to walk down the street, hoping to retrace your steps, the sound of a car engine pulls you from your thoughts.

Simon’s car rolls up beside you, the headlights cutting through the dusk. The car slows as he rolls down the window.

"You alright?" he asks, his voice steady, though there’s something about it that feels too calm, too neutral.

You glance at the car, his face hard to read in the dim light. How did he know to come get me?

"Yeah," you manage to say, forcing a smile. "Just... was gonna walk."

He doesn’t press, just gives a small nod, the car idling in front of you.

“Get in,” he says. His tone is casual, but you catch that sharpness in his voice, the one that makes you hesitate for a split second before getting in.

You slide into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the cold air outside. Simon doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you. The silence feels heavy as you pull away, but your mind keeps circling back to one question: How did he know?

[stellamarielu]

It’s plaguing my mind now that you gave us mirror sex…office sex with Declan and getting caught and being heard when you call Declan daddy 🤭

you know the drill- smut warning because I have a dirty, nasty brain but so do you guys because your requests look like this!

just realized I haven't written daddy kink declan yet... how???

he would have you bent over his desk, the two of you snuck away from the downstairs studio after his interview.

he was on a high from having rupert campbell-black as guest, the episode was sure to be a huge success. everyone was excited and the energy in the building was electric and as soon as the crew wrapped declan stole you away back to his office. he was pulling you into the room, kissing down your neck and assuring you that everyone was going out to celebrate and therefore wouldn't be coming upstairs.

"that feel good sweet girl?"

he's purring into your ear as fucks you from behind, one of his hands grabbing your ass the other tangled in your hair.

"yes daddy."

you're moaning out, brain melting from the pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of you and his hands all over your body- grabbing and pulling.

"fuck- it's so good."

he's pounding you even further into his desk, going absolutely feral at your words as the sound of grunts and whimpers fill his office.

the next day you were running around the building trying to finalize a schedule for next week when you found yourself face-to-face with rupert campbell-black. you were surprised to see him here, last night was the only time he had ever graced corinium with his presence.

"could you point me in the direction of cameron's office? there's some sort of agreement I was supposed to sign after the show." he's smiling at you, it's somehow just as friendly as it is devious.

"she sent me to get it last night but I just couldn't seem to find her office." he's keeping his eyes on you, carefully watching your expression.

"although, I did notice you were working late."

you froze. he must've heard the obscene noises coming from declan's office while he was searching for the contract.

"declan must offer great overtime benefits."

now his smug smile is making sense, he was enjoying having this information to dangle over your head.

"I'll let you get back to work, wouldn't want to keep daddy waiting now would we?" his voice is taunting as he winks at you.

all you could do was stand mortified as rupert brushed past you. he chuckled as he continued down the hallway, walking straight into declan's office.

[rafeshit]

celebrity!drew x assistant!reader

warnings — none other than tensionn and kissin

summary — you surprise him at one his premieres that he begged you to come to

youve been Drew's assistant for months, tasked with managing his chaotic schedule and taming the problems in his daily life. It's a wonder you haven't lost your mind yet, given the constant demands and last-minute changes that come with catering to a celebrity. But somehow, you've learned to navigate Drew's world with ease, all while maintaining a sense of calm that eludes him. It's almost comical, really, you're the epitome of organization and precision, whereas Drew is a walking disaster, always running late and anxiety driven about the next big thing.

despite your different approaches to life, you've developed an unlikely friendship with Drew over the past few months. You've grown accustomed to his anxious energy, and he's learned to appreciate your no-nonsense attitude. As the days have turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you've begun to realize that your feelings for Drew go beyond friendship. You've tried to brush it off as a silly crush, but the truth is, you're hooked. You can't help but admire the way his eyes wrinkle at the corners when he smiles or how he stutters when he speaks to you. The problem, of course, is that Drew is a notorious playboy, always on the prowl for the next girl to pounce on. You're not naive enough to think you stand a chance.

today is the day of the premier for Onslaught, Drew's latest movie. He's been a nervous wreck all morning, pacing back and forth in front of the mirror as he preps for the red carpet. When he turns to you and says, "I don't understand why you're not coming with me," you know you have to draw a line. You can't keep enabling his dependency on you, no matter how much you care for him. So you say the one word that will likely send him into a wreck "No!" Drew's scoffs, and he storms out of the room without a word.

you have to admit that your relationship is a little inappropriate. drew latches onto you like a child does to a mother and he uses you as an anchor in everything he does because you do things so well. So you have to draw the line somewhere.

fast-forward to the premier, where Drew is currently sweating bullets during an interview. His anxiety is at an all time high, his eyes darting towards the crowd as he forces a smile onto his face. And then, suddenly, a hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He looks up, his gaze locking onto yours as you stand at the edge of the crowd, smiling brightly back at him. The camera flashes, capturing the moment, and for an instant, everyone’s eyes were on you. But It's just you and Drew, locked in this moment feeling as though you were the only two in the room.

As the interviews wrap up, you make your way over to Drew, he turns to you, asking, "You showed up. Why'd you show up?"

You take a deep breath, preparing for the aftermath of your earlier argument. "I'm really sorry, I just—" But Drew cuts you off, "Why?" He says practically demanding an answer.

"You know why," you say, winking at him.

He chuckles, shaking his head, and you both enter into the building engulfed in a room full of his colleagues. He hands you a glass of sparkling champagne. "Well, I suppose you're here now. Let's make the most of it."

As you sip your drink, taking in the atmosphere, Drew fills you in on the reactions to his movie surrounding Onslaught. His hand finds its way to your back, moving up and down in a gentle, possessive gesture that raises more than a few eyebrows among his co-stars.

Just then, a handsome stranger approaches you,"You look stunning in that black dress, miss." he says, his smile wide and his eyes inviting. "May I have the pleasure of your name?"

You feel Drew's hand squeeze your back ever so slightly before it slips off, only to graze your butt in a gentle way. The stranger's eyes flicker to Drew, who was disinterested in the stranger advances from the start, "Sorry, she's unavailable," Drew says, ushering him away.

You turn to him, with a confused on your face. "Unavailable?" you repeat.

Drew offers a downward smile and shrugs. "Yeah. And you're fired."

You're taken aback, "What? Why?" This job has been your lively hood and the biggest break you could ever imagine, it would be catastrophic for you to lose it. You start to wonder where you messed up and if it was even fixable, because his words were certain and clear.

He smirks. "Because I can't date my assistant without it being a problem." Your eyebrows shoot up, and before you can process his words, Drew leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. His hands pull your waist closer to him, deepening the embrace. You both earn side eyes from everyone in the room but you two were far from caring.

Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer and finally He breaks the kiss, still holding your waist as he whispers in your ear, “this dress is coming off tonight.”

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Something involving Kirk’s tattoo. Like maybe when he first gets it and doesn’t tell reader about it she finds out becomes obsessed with it something smut involved please😈

Hope you like it!❤

Warnings: smut, strong language, mature themes.

_____________________________

Flames of desire

I stood just outside Kirk’s quarters, exhilaration coursing through me after my earlier run. My heart was still racing from the exercise, but nothing compared to the rush of excitement at the thought of seeing him. As I pushed the door open, the familiar scent of his cologne wafted through the air, mixed with something sweet—probably dessert he had saved.

“Did you save any of that synthale for me?” I called out, stepping into the warm glow of his room. I stopped short at the sight before me.

Kirk was halfway through undressing, his shirt slipping off his broad shoulders. My heart raced—not just from my run, but from how effortlessly handsome he looked. However, what captivated me most was the tattoo on his right side. Flames danced across his waist, their vibrant colors flickering in a way that made them seem alive.

“Wow, Kirk,” I said, stepping closer, “you’ve been holding out on me.” My tone was playful, but I couldn’t hide my admiration.

He turned fully to face me, a teasing spark igniting in his eyes. “Thought you’d be impressed. But I bet it’s not just the tattoo that gets you hot under the collar.”

Heat flooded my cheeks at his boldness. “Can I… can I look at it up closer?” I asked, curiosity bubbling within me.

Kirk raised an eyebrow, mischief shining in his gaze. “Only if you can handle the heat,” he replied with a grin, taking a step toward me.

As I reached out, my fingers brushed against the tattoo, tracing the intricate flames. The warmth radiated from his skin, sending shivers down my spine, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how vividly the flames mimicked the wild inferno that burned between us.

“This is incredible,” I whispered, lost in the artistry of it all. The flames reminded me of our passion—intense, consuming, and dangerous.

“You seem quite taken with it,” he said, amusement in his tone as I studied the ink.

“You don’t get it. It’s mesmerizing!” I exclaimed. “It’s not just a tattoo; it feels like it represents something deeper—like the flames of inferno.”

Kirk took a step closer, our bodies nearly touching. The air between us felt charged, and I could sense the intensity building. “It represents passion—wild, untamed passion,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a thrill racing through me.

“I think it leads to something explosive,” I replied boldly, feeling the heat radiating from both his tattoo and the man standing before me.

Without further ado, he closed the space between us, capturing my lips in a kiss that ignited a fire within me. The moment was electric, and my body melted against his as I surrendered to the urgency of the kiss.

“What do you want?” he murmured against my lips, the warmth of his breath mingling with my own.

“I want you,” I confessed, my heart racing with desire. “I want you—now.”

In one swift movement, he spun me around, pinning me against the wall with firm but gentle hands. The heat from his tattoo pressed against my skin, amplifying the need coursing through my veins. I could feel my body instinctively responding, hunger rising in my core.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with longing.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I replied, my heart pounding.

Kirk captured my mouth again, and we quickly fell into a passionate rhythm, our bodies moving together as one. Fingers tangled in his hair as we kissed, exploring the depths of our desires.

As we continued, my hand trailed down from his hair to his waist, brushing over the edges of the tattoo. I pressed my lips against the flames, savoring the warmth of his skin and the symbolism behind the ink. Each kiss lit a fire within me, making me feel more connected to him than I ever had before.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured against his skin, feeling completely alive in the moment.

Kirk let out a low growl as he pressed his body against mine, driving the point home that we were both caught in this whirlwind of heat. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With every kiss I placed on the flames, my longing intensified. It felt as if I were kissing the embodiment of our passion—a wild inferno that threatened to engulf us both. The tattoo became a physical representation of everything we were sharing, and I found myself craving him even more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, pulling slightly away to gaze deeply into my eyes. “You’re driving me wild.”

I chuckled softly, but there was an undeniable heat building inside me. “Good,” I replied breathlessly, tugging him closer. “Let go.”

With that, Kirk captured my lips again, plunging us into a world where nothing else mattered. The outside world faded, leaving only the two of us as we melted together, moving in perfect harmony.

I surrendered to the fiery passion that crackled between us, feeling utterly consumed by the inferno of our desires. We continued to lose ourselves in each other, the tattoo pulsing with life as we found our rhythm.

In that fervent embrace, time ceased to exist. He lifted me slightly, my legs wrapping around his waist, as I whispered his name—a mixture of plea and affirmation. I clung to him, kissing the flames again, savoring the moment in its entirety—the wildness, the heat, the unbreakable connection we shared.

As we finally reached that exhilarating peak together, our breaths mingling in the afterglow, I couldn’t help but smile up at him. “You know, next time you decide to get another tattoo, at least give me a heads-up,” I teased, running my fingers along the ink. “I'd love to be prepared for the heat.”

Kirk chuckled, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “I promise I’ll give you a heads-up. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on my next masterpiece.”

With a playful wink, he pressed his lips to my forehead, the flames on his skin still glowing brightly.

[starlingstalk]

can you do a breakdown on how you color? i find interesting how you mix many textures and colors in a piece

Ofc! Color is my favorite thing about drawing. :D

I made like a very brief rundown with the technique I use for a majority of my drawings but ofc it still varies a little.

Usually the only cases my process diverges is in the rendering. The color jitter (can be applied to most brushes in most Programms though the water color 6 brush is like my special angel child) makes a rlly big difference during the rendering due to there already being a lot of texture and Color variation and is something I always do.

After step 4 I usually only stick to either the textured ink for a lot of control, to the velvet for a lot of texture and depth or the classic soft for a more soft gradual end product where the color jitter only shines through.

With the first and third the key word really is color picking.

An example for the third brush. I here I made the overlay extremely faint and used the underpainting peeking through as a way to separate the parts of the coat rather than the lineart (at least from the first to the second picture). Using hue as contrast without making a clear dark-light contrast can be a bit difficult if it‘s done solitarily in a painting but due to color having different depth-perceptions (cool colors seem further away, appear darker even if they have the same value) it is fun to play with esp in combination!

Using the velvet brush is my favorite atm. You can use really vibrant colors and apply them similarly to how you would with ballpoint pens or coloured pencils. It‘s really easy to draw subtle changes in hue without having to be too particular about having the right color and building up the colors leaves you with both a direction that signals to the form of the subject and a rich multitude of different colors that appear completely different than a flat color can.

For this I recommend starting either darker or lighter in order to build up the color in one direction of the other!

Another tip is also to use blur to reduce the sheer amount of color variation of the color jitter if you‘re going to redefine most of the shapes anyways.

Here‘s a speedpaint where I use most of the things I‘m talking about. Flash warning for the sheer amount of color adjustment making the screen flicker at the beginning.

I also didn‘t mention gradient maps yet. Very useful for further color adjustment and in order to bring a very busy composition together color-wise!

Color still is a very individual thing I feel like. There isn‘t one way to color and the way my process is right now is very much fit to my understanding of it. I feel like the decisions you make when rendering; experimenting with colors you thought wouldn‘t go together, breaking the rules you have, figuring out how relative colors are simply because they cannot be isolated. It‘s trial and error but also learning practical lessons that make color make sense to you as you go along.

I hope this makes sense! Color is so fun and I‘m always excited when I get an ask about it. :‘D

Also the jittery water color 6 and Textured Ink brush is free I believe. The bottom two are from a paid brushpack from a creator on instagram. I‘d say only the water Color 6 brush really is something that I find uncommon. The other three can be easily swapped for any other brush that has similar properties. (Pressure sensitivity + texture for the first two and flat marker + texture for the last). I‘ll repost this with a link if anyone‘s interested!

[daydreamerwonderkid]

Jason, when Bruce asks him where the Joker is after 3 weeks of no sightings:

This was honestly just an excuse to practice drawing a leather jacket and then somehow transformed into another Jason Todd doodle.

Alternate textless version and meme inspiration below cut

DO NOT STEAL/REPOST MY ART.

[seventh-district]

tfw u finally go to make urself a dinner plate and some nasty ass man walks into the kitchen, picks up the entire serving bowl of creamed corn and puts his filthy mouth on the bowl like it’s a giant cup and tilts it straight in. multiple times. 🙃

[neverendingford]

.

[cosmictheo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | kang dae-ho

—summary: a sudden closeness of you and player 333 makes dae-ho's usually sweet mood swing in the opposite way, triggered by pure jealousy. why would you ever need anyone else when you've got him right there? —pairing: kang dae-ho/player 388 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —contains: +18, smut !!! (minors dni), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, really passionate sex, voyeurism, public sex, sub dae-ho!!! (canon), slight praise kink if you squint, he talks to you through it, jealous and possessive behavior, fluff, dae-ho being so in love with the reader.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

Kang Dae-ho had been protecting you ever since he had helped you survive Green Light, Red Light, the first game of all this hell in disguise as a promising new opportunity.

Not knowing you from absolutely nothing, he stepped right in front of you, stretching a hand out to the back to hold yours and guide you across the arena, playing human shield until together, you had crossed the finish line. 

And that basically summed up the kind of person Dae-ho is; kind-hearted, courageous, selfless, caring. He was one of the best people you had ever met and he was making this whole calvary into something much better, something brighter, something to keep fighting for until you made it out of there.

Since that, he had stuck by your side, practically standing as your own shadow, constantly putting you first, looking out for your well-being and safety. Without him, you would probably be dead by now, devoid of purpose.

The other players had already gotten used to seeing the two of you together, always watching each other's backs and fooling around and strategizing. Through thick and thin, you were together.

It was only a matter of time —hours—; before something else began to spark between the two of you, growing every time your hands brushed, or when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders or when your bodies cocooned in each other's warmth at night when you slept. A tension was just starting to build, an emotion that for some reason, would always make Dae-ho nervous and flustered, whenever you'd smile at him or clasp his bicep to be by his side every time Gi-hun related a story from his past experience at the games, or when you'd lean your head on his shoulder or when you'd hug each other every time a game ended.

Whatever it was, out of the same feeling, Dae-ho sensed a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, feeling as if his guts were constricting like a viper, every time you chatted with the 333 player.

He looks at you from the distance, frowning slightly as you laugh at something the guy says, he doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much... he just does.

“Why are you all puckered up?” Jung-bae questions him, pausing his own story to express concern for his teammate's face, following his gaze until he finds you, naturally.

Dae-ho clicks his tongue, shaking his head gently, his tone of voice fluctuating between disbelief and annoyance, "Why is she even over there? It's dangerous"

“Dangerous? Buddy, she's just talking to him. He saved her in the last game, remember?” Jung-bae answers him, confused by the uncharacteristic grumpy attitude of the younger man, used to the sight of him being so cheerful and jovial and optimistic.

“If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be here,” Young-il adds, also glancing at how you whisper with player 333, “She's just being polite.”

But Dae-ho huffs humorlessly, forcing his eyes to drag from you to Jung-bae standing in front of him, his fingers still grasping his fork tightly, not really feeling like eating lunch today, “Bullshit, I would've saved her anyway. She didn't need him.”

Gi-hun rolls his eyes, sitting by his side as he quietly observes the whole scene, chewing a mouthful of rice, “You're just jealous, man, admit it,” he pronounces with his mouth half full, eyes attentively scanning Dae-ho's reaction.

The whole group of men laugh upon seeing Dae-ho's face morph to one of embarrassment and some offense, cheeks blushing furiously at Gi-hun's fake allegation.

“I'm n-not jealous” he tries to defend himself with a stuttering voice, looking frantically around the amused faces of the men around him, his fingers letting his fork drop by his twitching and nervous state, attracting the attention of a few players who were nearby, including yours, which only makes Dae-ho to blush even redder.

Jung-bae smiles playfully, picking up the fork that had fallen to the ground, “And you're being overdramatic.”

“I am not!” Dae-ho squeals, his brow furrowing as he stands up and yanks the fork out of Jung-bae's hand. As the whole group laughs at him, his eyes again search for you in the crowd, finding you in record time, and his whole face darkens again as he notices the way your hand is resting down the player 333's forearm, like you would usually do with him.

He sighs heavily and for the first time, he seriously considers the words of the older men.

Time passes unnoticed within that place, hours perhaps, days? No one really knows.

But the warning that the lights go out in thirty minutes usually means that you should lie down and rest for the next event that the monsters who created this have planned for you all.

The first thing you notice when you arrive at the bed you share with Dae-ho, is that he is lying on his side with his back to you, which concerns you a little, since he never had his back to you when he would sleep.

Something is off.

“Dae-ho?” you call out his name in a gentle whisper, sitting down on the bunk and looking across the broadness of his back with worried eyes, “Are you okay?”

No response.

“Hey,” you try again gently, thinking that maybe he's not exactly having a good day, considering the current situation you're stuck in.

Dae-ho is feeling his chest heaving as he senses your hand laying on his shoulder, fingers delicately squeezing his flesh beneath the tracksuit jacket. 

And suddenly, he's cracking up.

“I'm trying to sleep” and yet, he replies to you curtly, without showing even the slightest sign of rolling over and wanting to actually look at you.

You admire his back with unconvinced eyes for a moment, lying down on the bed and resting your head on the pillow, your hand moving from his shoulder, down his back, across his shoulder blades, before dropping to the surface of the bed.

“You sound off.”

Dae-ho considers his options; whether to just keep talking to you in that oh-so-ungentlemanly way —which made him physically cringe—; whether to express everything he was feeling or just stay quiet and pretend to sleep.

In any case, he acts on impulse, rolling over so he can finally look at you, his eyes softening the instant they meet yours, his heart beating hard and fast, pounding in his ears.

“It's not good for you to associate with players outside our group,” he suddenly blurts out and sees how you just stare at him with further confusion washing over your pretty face, “It could be dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” you inquire, silently urging him to elaborate on his point. You are quick to notice how deadly serious his face is, his lips lightly pursed and his eyes solemn, a look that is unusual on him. You don't like to see him like that, like everyone there usually acted.

“Player 333,” he replies, jaw clenched, his eyes following you as you sat up again on the bed, looking down at him in sheer confusion, as if somehow, you aren't recognizing him, “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

He sounds... hurt? Disappointed?

“Lee Myung-gi” your face turns enlightened, finally understanding what he's referring to now.

Dae-ho deflects his gaze away from yours, slightly rolling his eyes. Whatever that idiot's name was...

“I was just talking to him. He saved me in the last game, Dae-ho,” you explain in an overly naive tone, a little smile curving the corner of your lips, “I went to thank him”

“But I am the one doing that, that's why I'm here. You didn't need him, you have me,” he retorts back to you instantly, your name being pronounced by his lips like a plea for mercy, gesturing to himself with his hand for emphasis on his words. Your brow furrows at the same time as his, your lips turning into a small pout, feeling like a scolded child, “I was going to save you anyway! You only need me, no one else...”

His voice fades the more he speaks, shaky hand brushing through his loose hair. And now you notice it, the betrayed and hurt expression on his face, his eyes hiding something more than friendliness, something much deeper and bigger.

He is jealous.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?” you are questioning him, getting more comfortable on the mattress, your voice keeping low so as not to wake the others, but also firm on your side of the little argument. You had done nothing wrong, “He was just being a good companion—”

“He didn't seem to be performing the good companion role,” Dae-ho interrupts you, spitting out the words as if they were venomous, rising himself up to also sit on the bed and face you, gesticulating with his hands, his tone of voice is fueled by sarcasm and subtle irony now, “I didn't like the way he was looking at you... neither how you were touching him with your hand.”

He crosses his arms and resembles a sulky kid who's had his favorite toy taken away, but you're too pissed off to pause and laugh at him.

Instead, you roll your eyes, starting to unbutton your jacket, feeling too hot all of a sudden, Dae-ho's eyes follow your fingers as they pull down the zipper, “You're being overdramatic.”

"I'm not!" he gasps-whispers, expression offended, he genuinely does seem to be feeling betrayed by what you had done. He leans close to you, so close that you feel the natural warmth of his body, but you stand your ground, looking at him with baffled eyes, his gaze remains soft yet aching, “I'm just looking out for you.”

“You'd rather I touch your arm then?” you raise an eyebrow on your forehead, dropping the jacket by the bottom of the bed, holding his gaze, “Is that what this is all about?”

The effect of your words in instantaneous on Dae-ho, blushing and causing him to pull away from you rather abruptly, brushing his hand through his hair again like a maniac.

“Yes,” he replies with certainty, the word barging into his throat before he could even think of a reasonable response, so he shakes his head slightly, “I mean no— I mean yes—” he cuts himself off, flustered by your attentive gaze, “—that's not the point! The point is that you don't need to go to anyone else when you have me right here.”

He gulps hard, eagerly waiting for your reaction through desperate, sheepish eyes.

“I know,” you whisper, letting out a soft sigh from your mouth, switching to a more empathetic postur. Then you nod your head and stretch out a hand towards him, who wastes no second in reaching out to take it and pull it close to his chest, nuzzling your knuckles with his thumb, “But he just dragged me with him, I couldn't do much,” you offer him a small apologetic smile, “I know you would have saved me anyway, Dae-ho.”

“Of course,” he murmurs your name, bringing your hand to his mouth to press his lips onto your knucles, kissing your smooth skin, “You're not alone, you're with me. You are everything...”

Without saying anything, you move closer to him and hug him. Dae-ho is more than happy to reciprocate your embrace, wrapping his beefy arms around your waist and hiding his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet and comforting scent, the scent he so adores. You feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver runs through you from head to toe.

One of your hands goes up to his head, caressing his hair, fingers sinking into his dark long locks, the soothing and so intimate touch making him sigh.

“You're jealous,” you murmur after a moment of comfortable, heart-warming silence, and he stiffens, his body freezing, you can feel the way his muscles tense against yours.

Dae-ho pulls away from you just a little, far enough to be able to look at you, offering you a sheepish little smile, his cheeks blushing from all the attention and touch and closeness, the way you're talking and looking at him has him breathless.

“Maybe a little,” his expression shifts to one of shame as he dares to confess, valiantly enough to hold your gaze, letting himself fall into the gentleness of your eyes, always so lively and playful, but as beautiful and sparkling as a pair of gemstones, with your long lashes brushing your cheekbones every time you blink.

His hands gently squeeze your waist, contouring your curves and fitting into them perfectly, as if crafted for him to touch and hold.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweets,” you assure him, like a promise, a complicity, leaning into him again.

Dae-ho swallows loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels your beautiful soft lips press down onto his throat, kissing his bouncing Adam's apple. He can feel himself in heaven, letting himself be swept up by the way you are treating him, the way your hands run down his body, passing down his chest until they stop at his midsection, just at the moment your tongue traces across his skin, making him hiss, feeling all the air being knocked out of his lungs.

“Fuck— ngh,” he whimpers, his whole body aching with heat, his heart pumping hot blood into his crotch, heartbeats matching up with each of your wet kisses on his neck.

His big hands wander over your waist, lightly caressing your lower back, fingers barely grazing the curve of your ass above the fabric of your tracksuit pants, clasping the flesh, pressing you helplessly against his body. His touch is needy, but nonetheless respectful, as gentlemanly as ever.

“Is this okay?” comically enough he's the one to ask as your mouth reaches his chin by a wet trail of soft kisses through his skin and he almost feels himself cumming into his boxers by the way you open your eyes to look up at him, pupils dilated in pleasure.

You sigh out a soft chuckle and your breath crashes against his half-open lips, needily breathing in your air, breathing you in. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of his jacket.

“You want this?”

It's stupid that you even had the mere thought of that question.

“Yes, please, baby— please,” Dae-ho rushes to answer, hands squeezing everything they could grab from you, desperately, “Can I kiss yo—”

Before he managed to formulate the question your lips are on his and from one second to the next he pulls you close to sit on his lap, making you feel his erection press against the underside of your thigh.

Frantically, between kisses, tongues recognizing each other and hands grasping what they can of the other, he helps you to remove his shirt, breaking away for just a moment to pull it over his head, looking at you with eyes darkened with desire.

He groans against your mouth as you kiss again, your teeth nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

“Shh...” you coo against his lips, pushing him down to make his back lay against the bed, “You don't want the others to hear, do you?”

A playful smile stretches at the corner of his lips, squeezing your butt once you leaned over him to begin kissing his chest, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the way your back arches.

“I wouldn't mind if 333 listens—”

“Dae-ho,” you name him disapprovingly, but your eyes are heavy with playfulness and longing.

He gazes adoringly up as you take off your shirt, eyes roaming down your neck, across your chest, down your stomach.

“You're so pretty, fuck— come here,” he tugs you closer to him to kiss you one more time, his hands detaching from your hips to lift his own, pulling down his pants and his now, wrecked boxers, clumsily sliding the waistband of the cloth down his thighs.

His dick springs free and it has you open-mouthed, staring down at it with eyes of raw longing and adoration. His mushroom-shaped, leaking, needy head bumps barely against his lower abdomen, lining up with his happy trail.

Dae-ho blushes under your gaze, one of his hands caresses your hip to attract your attention back to his face.

“Can you handle it, baby?” his tone of voice lowers sheepishly.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing from his words only and in less than ten seconds, you're stripping off your pants too, pulling your soaking wet panties aside. He can actually feel how wet you are when your pussy barely brushes against his bare crotch, he has to resist to keep from cumming right there.

“I can— fuck, yeah— I can handle it,” you babble tremblingly through gentle gasps as he reaches his cock, stroking it three times before he aligns it with your inviting hole, rubbing it slowly up and down your slit to scoop up all of your wetness, and use it as a natural lube.

Dae-ho bites down on his lower lip to muffle a moan that ascends his throat, feeling the head of his cock push up into the tight entrance of your pussy, plunging between your slick folds.

He leans his forehead flat against your chest, nestling right between your breasts, his whole body trembling from a riot of pleasure, muffling his moans and noises against your skin.

“Shit, y-you're— h-hah— you're so wet,” he raspes out into your bare skin, his lips slurring insults and name-calling you like a prayer, a poem through your sweaty skin, his tongue rolls out from between his parted lips, coating your skin with his drool. 

His hands are roaming over your hips, each digit digging into the fat of your ass, never applying weight, giving you all the time you needed to settle onto his size, yet his voice was desperate and eager with anticipation, “So tight— so pretty.”

Your lips are pressed against the crown of his head, breathing shakily as you begin to lower yourself into him achingly slow, drawing a gasp from both of you. Your palms squeeze his broad shoulders, suppressing the urge to cry out with every inch he is pushing his way inside you, your pussy fluttering and squishing him deeper.

“Yeah, just like that, that's it,” Dae-ho is praising you, pressing sloppy kisses all over your tits, fingers caressing your lower back while his other hand pats your ass appraisingly, “just a little more, baby, a little m-more and I'm all yours— I'm yours.”

His words really touch your very core, hand sliding up his neck to sink into his hair and pull it, making him hiss as he licks your nipple. Your pussy swallows another inch of him and you feel him in your fucking guts by now. He feels your squishy walls clench around him like a vice and he refuses to even think about the possibility of a life without feeling like this again.

“Dae-ho,” you whimper his name as the bulging tip of his cock reaches a particular spongy spot and instantly your whole body reacts as well.

“Mh-hm,” his lips lick and kiss your collarbone all the way up your neck and then he kisses your lips, “I'm here. I got you, I always got you,” his eyes finally lock with yours again and you nearly feel every single muscle and organ in your abdomen twitch when you notice tears being held back in them, all from the flood of pleasure and bliss your body is giving him.

He can feel himself in heaven, beneath you, his hips grinding up into yours as his cock is plunged so deep inside you.

Dae-ho kisses you again, intoxicated, a thread of spit remains connecting your mouths once you part.

A few more long seconds and you're all the way down sitting on him, his heavy, throbbing balls pressed flush against your ass. Your pussy envelops him thoroughly, molding into his shape as you breathe a deep sigh and Dae-ho breathes out as well when your nails dig into his shoulder blades.

“There you are, my baby, you're doing s-so good,” he croaks, fondling your backside affectionately, feeling your dampness dripping down his thighs, “Holy shit you feel good... I'm so deep—”

And when you start to move on top of him, he has to close his eyes, his sweaty palms pawing your ass, hopeless for your mercy. 

But you have no mercy, your pussy, your thighs, your fucking hips, the way you look down at him and ride him, giving him whiplash with every bounce. And he can swear he knows you from another life, from the way his cock forms a shape inside you, reaching parts within you that no one else has been capable of reaching before, as if your body was made for him— no, as if he was made to fit your body.

“My God—” he hiccups and you press your forehead against his, seeking his lips with yours to silence you both, pushing him down until he's lying flat on the mattress.

The bunk just barely creaks beneath the relentless sway of your hips slamming into his, ass bumping hard down on his thighs, taking him all the way down and up again, so deep that every time you bottom out you feel him in your fucking throat.

“You feel so good, baby,” you whine, looking down at him and all of his body is reacting to the petname.

You take in the gorgeous sight that is his face flushed with utter pleasure, eyes squinting, sweaty arms wrapping all around you and holding you impossibly close, his lower belly tensed and cramped.

He looks so pussy drunk, drinking and drinking in your body and essence, everything you provide. The tought makes you feel your insides flip, squeezing into a knot. And Dae-ho feels it too.

You bend down, lips falling onto his shoulder, trailing down to the tattoo on his side and when your tongue traces the black ink, exactly when his engorged tip brushes against your fucking cervix and your ass does a particularly powerful bounce on his thick thighs, he starts to feel his body twitching, reaching that exquisite release. He begins to cum, wracked by a rush of erotic bliss that has him seeing stars in the pitch-black.

His hips begin to meet yours in mid-between your wild bouncing and your pussy squelches around his cock, ready to take in all he has to give.

“I'm cumming— hah— b-baby, where—” he babbles through breathy hiccups and whimpers, his body is flushing, seeking your gaze with half-closed eyes, his chest gasping fast.

You kiss his tattoo one more time before answering him, having the nerve to smirk, as if you aren't jumping his bones, “Inside— mhm— fill me up, Dae-ho,” your eyes finally meet his and you squish his biceps, “please,” you beg him, with tears on your eyes.

“Holy shit— you don't have to convince me, love” he growls out hoarsely, and you have never hear him insult so much in such a short span of time. He kiss the corner of your lips messily, “I'm so fucking deep, you take it so well, baby— fuck.”

He chokes on his own voice and squeezes your hips until his palms are molded into your flesh. His tip touches that special squishy spot inside you again and you're cumming with him, both of you riding your own high, sinking into each other's bodies, souls becoming one. Straight into the core of the storm of pleasure.

His trembling fingers eventually loosen his grip on your ass, but his imprint stays right there, flushed. His cock softens deep inside you and you can feel it still spurting hot ropes up into your womb. Dae-ho whimpers flush against your mouth, gasping for breath. And you know you might as well die right there, tangled with his body.

Your head is empty, blurry with him and only him, your hips keep rolling on their own motion, slower. Your pussy squelches, full of him, the friction only makes him chant your name over and over in raspy whispers, like a hymn. Your orgasm is rough and strong, rocking your body like an earthquake. It makes you moan his name and he cuts you off, kissing you senselessly.

“Thank you, thank you...” he mumbles repeatedly against your mouth, hissing once you stop all movement on top of him. And he kisses you again, appreciatively, lovingly.

Dae-ho throws his head back on the bunk, trying to catch his breath, his hands drop to your thighs, always with a possessive hold, groping around for your ass, pressed down on his trembling thighs.

And it's ridiculous how absolutely majestic he looks there under you, in an afterglow that has him breathless, eyes narrowed and lost stare, gazing upwards as if he's suspended in paradise. His entire abdomen is sweaty and you hold back the urge to run your tongue across his cute little tummy, since your body is slowly beginning to give in to exhaustion, your legs wobbling.

You are satisfied with tracing your fingers along his sweaty skin, touching what were strong muscles, now softened under your thumbprints. Your hand makes an appreciative path up his pecs and he comes back to reality with the touch, looking up at you and patting your ass lightly, his gaze softening as he met your eyes amidst the darkness. The look of love.

“Don't do that, I'm about to get hard again,” he murmurs in a playful voice, a little sheepish smile growing on his lips. He is blushing, like he's not balls deep inside you, his cum leaking out of your cunt and trickling down your thighs.

You let out a sleepy chuckle, leaning down and snuggling close into his chest, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he tugs a blanket over the two of you.

“I had to take you on a date first,” Dae-ho blurts out suddenly, sounding more like he's talking to himself than to you, but you do manage to hear him, yet not really understanding what he's trying to say.

“What?” you ask curiously, still a little dizzy, fingers tracing light caresses on his chest, right where his heart is.

He clears his voice, bowing his chin so he can look down at you, gaze full pure love and adoration, his fingertips soothingly caressing your spine as he answers you in a hushed whisper, “I was supposed to take you on a date before.... all of this.”

You smile bashfully against his chest, looking up at him with big, soft eyes, “Well, we're not exactly in a position where having a date is doable, Dae-ho.”

But he is confident on the subject, fingers drawing little circles on the small of your back, “After we get out of this, I'll pick you up at your house and take you to the fanciest restaurant.”

You kiss him tenderly. 

And he smiles like he's actually in love.

“I'll be waiting for you in my best dress, then.”

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[wonryllis]

✴ DID I RIZZ YOU UP? HOT THINGS THEY DO.

𝑜𝑓. enhypen unintentionally using rizz like it's their second nature contains. fem!r, fluff, kinda suggestive pg 15. wc. 648, 90 something each check out. the d𝒾rectory? stat. my fogged up brain.

𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖥𝖫𝖠𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖤𝖲──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦

if there's one thing heeseung loves― it's eye contact with you. staring at your eyes, taking in every detail on your face, every expression you make; you name it. he loves knowing exactly how you are feeling in the moment, loves reading the silent words bouncing right off your pretty eyes. and that is precisely why he more often than not grabs your jaw or lifts your chin and says,"look at me," his gaze boring into yours, sometimes trailing off and focusing on your parted lips and squished cheeks.

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖩𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦

to jay the feel of your ass and thighs on his own is the best feeling in the world. the warmth of your skin reaching him through his pants when you are wearing something short. the pride, the possiveness, the sense of contentment― it flatters his vanity. his girl, on his lap. always manspreading and patting his thigh to offer his lap as a seat. whether within the walls of privacy or right in the middle of a room full of friends, he is always apt, way too eager under a mask of poise.

𝖲𝖨𝖬 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭

is he even your jake sim if doesn't have his hand on you at any and all points of time? not touching you is a living nightmare for him. every chance he gets, he has his hand on your thighs― at all times, caressing and squeezing. when he has you against his chest, holding you by your waist; he squeezes. when you are cuddling, cozied up together; he caresses. when you are in the midst of a family dinner, under the table; he caresses and squeezes. it's like a habit, a primitive tendency.

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭

sunghoon revels in control, being in charge, wearing the pants in the situation. it's like a part of his personality, the hottest thing about him that he probably has no idea of. and that just makes it hotter. never realizing how dominant he sounds and looks when he merely tells you "come here" or simply pulls you by your waist. never using too much words, just lucid commands and prompt actions. not caring about where and when, only aware of the fact that he wants you near him and as quick as possible.

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖶𝖮𝖮

98% of the times, sunoo is a sweet saccharine boyfriend. always making sure you are the most comfortable person in the room, being the little cozy space of your life. but even a yang has a yin in it at it's strongest. and that's kim sunoo, cornering you into things when he has something serious to discuss. rolling up his sleeves and brushing back his hair as his voice gets deeper and the smile vanishes off his eyes. a person so in contrast to your usual boyfriend but so hot.

𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖦 𝖩𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖶𝖮𝖭

this guy has no cool when you are on your feet. he just has to be the one to escort you around, help you with things, make sure you do not have to use too much energy. always having his hands on your hips while he guides you along. a normal date in the neighborhood or a vacation overseas, an empty alley or a crowded street― crowded room even, right infront of everyone. jungwon just wants you to shut your brain down when you are with him, to let him do it all for you.

𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖬𝖴𝖱𝖠 𝖱𝖨𝖪𝖨

one thing riki can't ever hate about being tall is getting to tease the shit out of you. but one thing he always does with no intentions to fluster you is lean down to hear you, face closing in on yours in a stare. his already deep voice going a tone lower as he grows serious, all ready to hear whatever you have to say. your words mean business to him― absolute vip business. sometimes even crouching down when you are seated, eyes trained on your face like “yeah baby? what is it?”

taglist 。open! @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @enhabooks @criminalyun @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — capitano loves teaching his darling how it feels to receive pleasure by a real man <3

warnings — inexperienced reader & naive ?? reader, petnames used: good girl, size kink/size difference, age gap ? (he's mentioned as being older), fem! reader <3

the thought of capitano teaching you about pleasure and passion was unbelievably hot to the point where you couldn't wait for it to happen again and again.

yes, he's older and more experienced than you, so of course you believe whatever he tells you and certainly won't question all of the depraved things he'd ask you to do, the harbinger obviously know better than you do, correct? these thoughts never failed to echo in your mind as you found herself alone with capitano, the strongest and mysterious harbinger whose very presence sent your mind in a daze.

he towers above your smaller frame with his dark eyes piercing through the dim light of the room, the silent command in his gaze strong enough to send an entire army to its defeat.

you couldn't lie to yourself, especially not when it came to him— and you felt a thrilling mix of fear and anticipation as he sank inside for the first time, making your pretty mouth part with a high gasp as he pressed himself through your tiny hole— first his thick tip splitting you open, then his inches rubbing through you, his movements deliberate and controlled yet never too much where it could hurt you.

although before he proceeds, his scarred hand reaches out to your face, gently tilting your chin up to meet his focused eyes.

"you must trust me, you're aware of that, correct?" capitano's deep voice resonates through you, each word a promise of what was about to come as he begins to thrust into you gently, his next following words accompanied by deep grunts and groans, "only then i will teach you on how to receive the pleasure only i can give you."

you nod immediately, eager to feel more, your heart pounding in your chest as his experience in the bedroom was certainly undeniable— not only that but it was sexy, hot as the flames of a pyro user as the authority in his voice made you ache to comply, to please him too with all you can.

the rush of excitement at the prospect of being guided by someone who knew exactly what he was doing was enthralling as your body showed him such, and if you weren't so cock drunk, you'd notice just how hard and messily you're squeezing him right now, your pussy drooling and messing him up until he knows he's yours.

his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "wrap your legs around me," and begins to instruct, his voice a low growl that made your back arch up immediately.

without hesitation you obey, your legs encircling his broad waist as the closeness was beginning to turn intoxicating, feeling like minutes before you could feel true solace as you felt the strength of his body pressing against yours the more he'd add on speed and strength.

"good girl, very good," he murmurs proudly, his breath hot against your skin as one of his hands slowly slide down your sweat covered stomach before reaching your clit, "now, relax, alright? let me show you how to feel every touch, every sensation of me,"

his hand moves with practiced ease on your clit as he pinches it, tugs and teased it, rubbing over the pearl and igniting a trail of fire wherever he applied pressure the most as your body was responding to his every touch, your senses heightened by the sheer dominance he exuded.

"focus on my touch," he commands softly, your hips curving upwards so that you'd be able to get his cock to sink even further inside of you.

"feel how your body responds to me,"

capitano fucks you with purpose, tugging your hips deeper onto his cock with every grind as your legs begin to shake, the blur in your eyes making it difficult for you to see anything more than his panting demeanor— not only that but his cock was huge, splitting you apart like he's meant to do that, as if there was nothing more than this moment in your life which was deemed important.

the warmth of his drags against your walls pooled into your veins and flesh as his cock fucks and fucks and lets you squeeze his inches in and out until you end up hiccuping of being so full and satiated, almost feeling stupid as he sent currents of electricity straight to your core.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[incognit0slut]

Stress Relief

You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer

Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘

A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.

You could tell something was off. 

A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air. 

"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"

Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.

"Babe?"

His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"

When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.

Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.

"Bad day at work?"

He slowly nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"Do you want a hug?"

He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.

"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"

You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.

Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.

"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"

His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" 

"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."

You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"

Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control? 

He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.

But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now. 

So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.

"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.

"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."

He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.

He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."

Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"

"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."

"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.

"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."

His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze. 

"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."

“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."

"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused." 

You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.

"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."

His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."

The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.

"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."

You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"

There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.

“I… I don't understand."

"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."

"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."

He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.

You swallowed hard.

"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."

He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.

"And what if I do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know what I want."

He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"

You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."

His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."

You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."

He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.

"I want to see how far you'll go for me."

Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"

A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."

"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."

His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.

A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.

"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"

You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 

"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.

With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.

“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."

Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.

You wanted him to use your body.

“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.

His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath. 

He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.

Mine, mine, mine.

"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."

You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.

"Do I make myself clear?"

You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."

His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room. 

With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.

You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.

His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt. 

Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.

He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.

Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."

Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.

The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.

His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.

The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.

You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.

Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.

"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”

You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.

"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."

Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh. 

You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.

For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.

"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.

He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?" 

"Pl-Please touch me."

He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"

You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."

His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"

"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.

He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit. 

"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.

His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.

Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you. 

Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.

He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.

You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.

You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head.  But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.

"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"

He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one." 

How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.

Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.

His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.

Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.

It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.

You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.

He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds. 

You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.

"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."

Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.

"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"

You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"

Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you. 

And you liked it.

"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."

He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.

He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.

Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.

"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."

You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.

He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.

Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.

His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.

You were instantly gone.

A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his. 

“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.

He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.

Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.

You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor. 

After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.

“Are you okay?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."

He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""

"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."

"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.

"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"

He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach. 

"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."

Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."

His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."

A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"

You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."

You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin. 

"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."

You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."

He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”

"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"

His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?" 

You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."

His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."

You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"

"I think we both need that nice warm bath."

You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"

He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you? 

"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."