#i have slippery fingers and i’m stupid

[rypnami]

discord needs a confirmation button for sending friend requests cos it’s so easy to mis click and i am so embarrassed rn

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Troublemaker - C.SC

🚨Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🚨What: Gang au, smut, gang boss Seungcheol, gang member reader, angst, humour(low key crackish) and some fluff to top it all off. 🚨Wordcount: 15.9k 🚨Warnings: Do not take anything I write about police/law seriously, I don’t know shit about anything, okay. Reader is unhinged and shameless(and emotionally incompetent). Gang typical stuff; violence, drugs, alcohol, prostitution, theft etc. Handcuffs. Profanity. Degrading names. Unprotected sex, hair pulling, oral(both), multiple sex scenes/positions, breeding kink, choking, multiple orgasms, clit slapping, marking and potentially other fun things I’m likely forgetting about.

Summary: You're known for being able to get your hands on anything you want; drugs, weapons, money, cars. Except your boss, he's always been a little out of your reach, until the day you have him handcuffed in the backseat.

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- the image of Seungcheol on his knees with his hands behind his head getting arrested popped into my head and spawned this and i am not okay This story well and truly ran away from me, I cannot be held accountable for this shitshow. I planned a quick lil smut thing and then the fluff and angst appeared and here we are.

It's a beautiful sight to pull up to; the Choi Seungcheol on his knees, thick thighs spread wide with his fingers lacing together behind his head, biceps bulging in his plain white t-shirt. The same Choi Seungcheol who for the past four years has been running the most cunning, slippery gang that has graced the city in decades. 

Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean. 

Which is why when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shove him around a little, afterall?

"What did you get him for?" You ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually. 

Seungcheol glances over at you and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth; he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

"Probable cause," the young, over-eager cop getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head. 

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah; he's been known to get pretty injured and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

"Oh, you fucking idiots," you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

"What the fuck?" The younger cop baulks dumbstruck. "Who the fuck are you to just-" 

"You really think you're going to get brownie points with the Captain by brining him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid," 

"But we caught him," 

"Yeah and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up,"

"Why?" 

"Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?" 

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter. 

"That's a good boy," you whisper into his ear while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It happened before, once, over a year ago and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs despite being the best the precinct had to offer. 

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him up. You have to bite back your pleased grin at the powerful man listening to your silent orders and obediently getting up. He glares at you over his shoulder.

"You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted," you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door. 

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down and urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out, spills out any further. 

"What?" You ask the two young men still watching you dumbly. "I know, my ass looks great in these," you smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound. 

"Yeah," the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door. 

"Idiot," his partner hisses, backhanding him. "Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harrassment!" 

"She started it!" 

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you could with so little to work with.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you, you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

"Now now, Mr Choi, please respect my car," he kicks the seat again making you snicker. "So ungrateful, I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative." 

"Like fuck am I," he grunts and shuffles closer to the criss cross of bars separating the two halves of the car. "Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch." You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. "Sick fuck, you get off on it, don't you?" 

"Damn right," you confirm shamelessly with an almost twisted smirk. "Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie." 

"How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?" He's too close to the front seats to kick them again but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale ripped jeans to allow him so close. 

Fuck, you wish you could see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit. 

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. "Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will and then never stick to it, I might learn my lesson."

"You'd fucking like it," he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. "Pull over and uncuff me." 

"Nope."

"I'm warning you, little one," 

"Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here," you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate making him swear harshly. "Oops," you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

"You fucking-" he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing that time.

"Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie," you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position. 

Man, he's so fucking thick. You know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too. 

Not forgetting the memorable time he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action and automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure. 

You've never been more glad that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck, you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly. 

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up, your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs.

"You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue." 

"If you say you were watching those fucking videos again-" he starts.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras." 

"I did that so I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!" He barks. "I swear, one day I'm going to actually choke you," 

"Do it," the sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god he doesn't believe in for strength to handle you and your endless depravities. "Question," 

"What?" He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day. 

"Would you use your hands to choke me?" 

"What else?" 

"Your thighs-" 

"Shut up," he groans and pushes himself further upright. "Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?" 

"No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?" 

"I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking but no, you're even worse." 

"I appreciate art and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol are pure fucking art." 

"We have very different definitions of art," he deadpans. 

"Yes, I know," you roll your eyes. "You like silicone and spray tan," 

"Do I?" He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

"Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection." 

"Not gonna comment on the collection," he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity at how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life, which he knows heavily involves masturbating to those videos of him masturbating. 

"Do you want to see?" You offer brightly. "I have one that I think could compare to your cock," your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge that you know is him flaccid. "Maybe..." you suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chases his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall to take what he wants. 

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people, not even just women, but that's always to get his way and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

"Stop thinking about my cock," Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality and looking up at him, though your gaze darts back down realising there's a change in the bulge. "Don't-"

"Are you getting hard?!" You gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate. 

"No." 

"Liar," you grin, eyes sparkling. 

Seungcheol knows he's done for now; for years you've been trying to fuck him and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way. 

"So, what's going to happen, Cheolie-" he swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. "Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there-" 

"And uncuff me." 

"No, silly boy," you giggle. "And ride your giant cock." 

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission, because although you do a lot of questionable shit you'd never physically force yourself on anyone, and Seungcheol, clearly in thought.

"Get back here," he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement. 

"Fuck yeah," you exhale, climbing out of the car where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belongings to Seungcheol’s gang. 

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat. 

"You got a condom?" He asks, letting out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning. 

"Nope," You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt before working on the button and zipper. "Got a problem with that?" 

"Fucking you raw?" You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off of the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly-hardening cock to your greedy gaze. "You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times and fucking weirdly obsessed with me-" 

"Hey," you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

"Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?" He deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment. 

"What? No," you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. "It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?"

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch at what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit right on his left thigh. 

"You're so fucking wet," he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. "Fuck," 

"This is what you do to me, Cheolie," you complain and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh while he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on. 

It feels better than you could’ve imagined and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

"You're so fucking shameless," he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side. 

"For you, not anyone else," 

"You're going to give me a giant head," 

"It'll match your cock." 

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. "You gonna sit on it then?" 

"I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women." 

"You're not them," it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. "I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang, trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?" He scoffs. "I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on and I know I sure as fuck don't." 

"And what if you knock me up?" Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. "What?" 

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. "Fuck!" He exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. "You-you fucking idiot," he lifts his head to look at you. "You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!" 

"Good, I like it," you smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks. 

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers, you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you.

"You're fucking crazy," 

"Yep." You grin and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again and again and again.

"Fu-fuck, just ride me, shit," he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you. 

"Don't you like this?" You pout at him, faux-offended and keep at it. You know he likes it. It's clear by the tightness of his expression; the pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, shoulders pressed back against the seat and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs. 

You really hope he doesn't break them, you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well that's a real fucking nice thought. 

It makes you clench down on him and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him. 

"Can I bite you?" You ask, falling still. 

"What the fuck?" He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too. 

"Is that a no?" You pout.

"I don't give a fuck, just keep going!" He demands, looking crazed. 

"Can I kiss you too?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs. 

"Bounce," he growls against your lips before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his. 

"Che-cheol," you pant out, knotting your fingers in his head to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply and his eyes roll back. Very interesting reaction indeed. 

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled, but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tell you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too. 

"Good boy," you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now, more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you even with his arms restrained. 

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him. 

"Oh, fuck I-I'm gonna cum," he warns making your eyes widen in alarm.

"No!" 

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. "The fuck you mean no?" 

"You can't cum yet! I'm not done!" 

"I'm gonna-" 

"No!" 

"Fuck," his eyes roll back and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum. 

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" You exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. "You useless man!" You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

"What the fuck?" 

"What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?" You berate, climbing off of him and wincing at the feel of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. "To bust in minutes, you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?" You tut and shove him down on the seats. 

"Ow, you fucking-" he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. "I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch," he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body. 

"Ooh, call me more names, my likey," you wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face. 

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy that's inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner-thighs. "You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?" 

"I work for you, comes with the job," you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance, your right hand knotting into his hair making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. "Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie," 

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know. 

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit, he's not gentle about it at all but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

"T-that's it," you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow. 

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him, fingers tightening in his hair and letting the vibration of his groans and moans help ride you through as you smother him in your pussy. 

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off of his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly. 

"Please tell me you have a key for these," Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid back with his eyes closed. 

"No," you snigger at the pissed off look he gives you as he lifts his head enough to look at you. "Since when have I needed keys to open locks?" 

"Good point," he drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. "Don't." 

"Why not?" You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly but he clearly likes it judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

"Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders," he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. "And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?" 

"You actually want to do that?" 

"Always have," he shrugs and slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back. 

"No, you've never wanted to fuck me." You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them. 

"I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit, I've seen the porn you watch." 

"Don't kinkshame me," 

"Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!" 

"But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself." 

"You've masturbated in my office chair?" He deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. "Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working." 

"You can always call me and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth, keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working." 

"This is why I never fucking let you know." He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. "Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you." Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. "Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk." 

"Don't need to tell me twice," you quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs. 

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

"What the fuck?!" He shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. "Did you just bite my ass?" 

"Yes," your confirmation is utterly shameless as you stare up at him from still on your knees. 

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint. 

"Good girl," he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at having his cock in your mouth finally. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat at your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up. 

You're not given time to even complain or whine, or beg for his cock back, before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy. 

"You never explained the knocked up comment," he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight. 

"What?" 

"You said about me getting you knocked up." 

"And?" 

"We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile," He nips at your earlobe on the harder side and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock. 

"Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?" 

"Huh, you're into that?" 

"I'm into anything if it's you." 

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own back to grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

"Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby," he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. "Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?" 

"Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie," you agree, nodding madly and arching your back to push back against him while widening your stance to get him deeper, even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference. 

"That's my good fucking girl," he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly. 

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse, you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts but you do not give a single flying fuck. 

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either, he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you that you can barely babble a response at with the quickly growing pleasure in your body. 

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?” 

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head. 

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you. 

He has always cussed at you and called you names with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that, the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you and amused you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he has always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this, the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never fucking heard the man use, well that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt-” 

“You can go back to fucking me,” 

“You’re still shaking,” 

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star Seungcheol!” 

“What happened to Cheolie?” 

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.” 

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?” 

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you. 

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See this is why I never fucking wanted this!” He exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs. 

Seungcheol pauses for a split second noticing that he hurt you but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” He snaps, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once. 

“Seungcheol-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car with fake licence plates and over the speed limits without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the drivers’ seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him and you don’t want that. 

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks, and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot. 

It wasn’t instant, there wasn’t a moment where your eyes locked across the table on that set-up blind-date between you that was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both clocked each other and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job and the gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one, but spending time with the man even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face. 

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well. 

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks. 

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere, though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt. 

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol had anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members and a good fucking one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But apparently, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having some kind of feelings for you. 

You’re not going to assume he’s in love with you, it’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches that turned to hurt anger, to be love.

Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically. Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since or tucked under it like you offered to cockwarm him with your mouth. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle. But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?” 

“Me?” You garble around your food still hanging out of your mouth and pointing at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?” 

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder but he takes it. 

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’re parked in to enjoy your lunch. 

“What the fuck is in that?!” He shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses. 

“Coke,”

“That is not coke,” 

“Both kinds, and mint schnapps,” 

“I fucking hate you.” 

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction. 

It wasn’t even your choice, you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first. 

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features as you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much. 

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a bloodpact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved at having the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?” 

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this, like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas. 

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?” 

“What’s the job?” You ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open and rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off. 

“He’s dealing with it,” 

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.” 

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist so he’s the best chance.” 

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch-” 

“You set a warehouse on fire last month, that’s not a delicate touch.” 

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.” 

“You…whatever. He can handle the job, it’s just a different direction than you’d take.” 

“Has he gone in fists swinging?” 

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.” 

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done. 

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman over his desk; you would just stand there until he noticed you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it was you turned up for. It was all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re familiar with and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks but-” 

“What?!” You exclaim, slamming on the breaks and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes. 

Minghao yells which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind you to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive you idiot!” 

“He’s fucked the mark?” You ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly. 

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you are an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times and in a way, you do always scare him because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone but you haven’t, you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol, or someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear. 

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the after effects of, the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down and anyone who gets in your way.

“He-he hasn’t but he said he will if he needs to.” 

“Where is he?” 

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh. 

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?” 

“Where is she?” You ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?” 

“The mark, Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.” 

“And you thought I’d bring her here?” 

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over, black shirt unbuttoned to his chest tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hold he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop to your disappointment. At least you thought he had. 

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?” 

“No,” he admits and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?” 

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more. 

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before, that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.” 

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter,”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.” 

“Well maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?” 

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that, you’re not a fuck up.” 

“I am, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol so-” 

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out. 

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest. 

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.” 

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?” 

“I don’t know, can we?” 

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach. 

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?” 

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence,” 

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t, I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.” 

“For how long?” 

“This is my apartment-” 

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment, I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together, does it end now?” 

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?” 

“That is our relationship,” you give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.” 

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief. 

“Well, yeah,”

“Get out.” 

“That doesn’t answer-” 

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” He snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?” 

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs and steps back, away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.” 

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.” 

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” He taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.” 

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.” 

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did but obviously I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily, you’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.” 

“Friends?” You mumble in surprise because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you but you’re not sure you could if you tried. 

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps at one point you could’ve thought of him in such a way but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right. 

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.” 

“Have we ever done any of that?” You genuinely wonder quietly. 

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before, never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.” 

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life, as you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it. You listened to his wishes, you left and didn’t return, you deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang.

And then they started to turn up at your apartments so you packed up and left the city and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened. 

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment. 

Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head. 

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two hour drive from the city and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker. 

You quite like his new friend and like to play bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car you can proudly say you didn’t even steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him. 

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses. 

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain. 

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by you two. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” You ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the breaks in time for once. 

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best.” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly. 

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui who preens proudly. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you.” The pimp points out as you all get out of the car. 

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily. 

“You’re married?” 

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel making you snort a laugh, until he turns and you notice his glasses are broken and can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” He exclaims, taking off the sunglasses and tosses them into the bushes. 

“I’ll get you another pair,” 

“Better do. I want Gucci ones,” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” 

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?” 

“They were just sitting there,” you shrug. 

“Where?” 

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head,” 

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?” 

“It was really impressive,” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting, they make a good team.” 

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.” 

“You’re my daddy not my father,” Junhui scoffs. 

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more but the ding echoes in the metal box signalling you’ve arrived at the suite, so he just takes a breath and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open. 

Then you four step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors and you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite. 

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers. 

“You assholes!” One of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!” 

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!” 

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.” 

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit. 

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you. 

“You could say that,” you murmur and look over to the grand double doors then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?” 

“Yes,” 

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.” 

“Do you owe him money?” 

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.” 

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?” 

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.” 

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui and his watch then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason,” he face falls and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?” 

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me and I like having you watch too!” 

“You can discuss this later, we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.” 

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?” 

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol and, in fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!” 

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking- why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!” 

“Yes I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe and I’m good at it.” 

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” You scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I-” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure but it’s a solid warning that he could. 

You should probably be scared, but you’re not, even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it. 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?” 

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes. 

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on,” 

“Seungcheol,” 

“Bitch,” and then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“Uh,” of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go, that dude is getting taken to the hospital and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here. Hannie and Jun have already gone.” 

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.” 

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving,” 

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines. 

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you. 

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug. 

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint. 

You hope he won’t crash on the way home or forget that he’s driving a stolen car meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail, just like he wouldn’t you. Your bloodpact never said anything about prison after all. 

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night, a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.” 

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right hand just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever, just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.” 

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.” 

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you. 

“How do you not know?” You scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one. 

“Because I’ve never had sex with him,” 

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex,” 

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not. 

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist, it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.” 

“You should’ve stopped!” 

“You never did,” you point out and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How? Sex is sex.” 

“Right.” 

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs and all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room. 

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room en suite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?” 

“What else would it be?” 

“It means nothing?” 

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like…” you sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?” 

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.” 

“And that means choking and kissing me?” 

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.” 

“No,” 

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that would drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?” 

“I didn’t say that,” 

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word, at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you, it hurts me too, seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.” 

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.” 

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.” 

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean-” 

“Cheol,” he immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?” 

“You said we’re not even friends.” 

“We’re not, we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” you sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.” 

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him, when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained and then we could’ve…things would be different.” 

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existance and planning to fuck a mark and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.” 

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this, I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side so come back, please.” 

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?” 

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.” 

“Sex works great, that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was and I’d really fucking love to do that more, I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.” 

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?” 

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no, you keep that in your freaky head.” 

“Noted. What about anal?” 

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?” 

“Stuffing,” 

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie,” 

“Mm,” he slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race. 

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” 

“Oh, really?” He nods and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.” 

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love, we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up, beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now-” 

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him. 

“I was going to say let’s sleep but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom. 

“You didn’t answer me about anal,” 

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?” 

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass, it’s made to be fucked.” 

“Uh, I’ll consider it.” 

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me,” 

“What, why?” 

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk and that never happened.” 

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!” 

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me,” 

“Yeah yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt. 

You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unbuttons his belt.

“Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” He asks while teasingly dragging his fingers along his skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy,”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?” 

“Yes,” 

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly then sit up so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy,” 

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.” 

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?” 

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?” 

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.” 

“I really must be insane,” 

“We match well then, huh?” 

“Mm,” he leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids, they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.” 

“Our neighbours would hate us,” 

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married, away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.” 

“There’s a park down the road,” 

“No,” he scoffs and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.” 

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?” 

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.” 

“Sounds like a party,” you grin, and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.” 

“Mm, it would, you need to be naked for that though, baby,”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably. 

“You really want me to dance for you?” 

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.” 

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.” 

“Guess we need to invest in some gags,” 

“Guess we do,” he murmurs and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day, I need to fuck you too much.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, baby,” 

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off of his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” He gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees. 

“Years of practise,” 

“Stripping?” 

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.” 

“Well…good job,” he leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you. 

“Thank you,” you preen and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please,” 

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart,” 

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward,” 

“Mm,” he shuffles down a little so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and hand prints to mark his property. 

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock but it’ll do for now.” 

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin. 

“Make me,” 

“Brat,” 

“You like it,” 

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all, your jaw dropping enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans. 

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you. 

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter and fingers grip at him. 

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster. 

“H-how much can you take?” He asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal. 

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels. 

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you. 

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city.

Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out as he seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t-I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck,” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out like he starts to. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly, shaky hands but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock. 

“Babe-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungchol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another. 

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his. 

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is and your whole body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed and you don’t even care. Neither does he. 

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like that than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread-thighs. 

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist with his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?” 

“Cheol-” 

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap, this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is. 

“Fuck, y-yeah. Don’t stop.” You agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But,” 

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession. 

It’s only a few seconds of the combination, the intense pleasure from all melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin that only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls. 

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock but it’s still almost too much stimulation. 

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body. 

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” He asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?” 

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response. 

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well and you’d give you both top marks.

And then he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it. 

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you that nobody else ever will. 

You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really, not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already; and now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on pain in the most delicious of ways so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in. 

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you, you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up, you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck. 

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.” 

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?” 

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?” 

“No.” You wiggle your ass making him groan and then bite your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Don’t get me hard again, I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.” 

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.” 

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?” 

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?” 

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.” 

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.” 

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?” 

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me, you’re stuck with me forever.” 

“I think I’m okay with that,” there’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise. 

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you, his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

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[explicit-tae]

Metamorphosis (2/2)

A look into your demonic pregnancy leading up to you giving birth to your and Jungkook's son - and prior to being dragged to Hell. Part 1 | Alternative Universe Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist

Word Count: 8.494

Warning: mentions of blood, blood drinking/cannibalism, character death, animal death, blood drinking, kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex, pregnant sex,

NINE MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Pregnant?” your mother nods her head slowly. Her eyes move from your face to your stomach. There isn’t a bump, and if there was, it’d be far too small to notice from afar.

“Yeah.” you murmur.

Your mother wasn’t the judgment type - she, after all, didn’t live an ideal life. She dealt with the looks often when you were a child besides her wife (your mother before she passed) at church or other places.

 However, it wasn’t her judgment that you were worried about - it was mainly your own. You wouldn’t tell your mother that you were pregnant by a demon and was now carrying his seed. You hated yourself and your unfortunate life events enough.

“One night stand?” your mother asks you. She now has a worried look on her face. “Unless you have a boyfriend…?”

You’re unsure what to tell her. Jungkook was not just a one-night stand - you see the man every night (unfortunately). But if you did tell her that Jungkook was your boyfriend to avoid feeling even more stupid, then she’d ask to meet him. And that’s not something you’re sure you wanted - you and Jungkook were not a family. He was a demon that forced you into this situation of carrying his demonic seed.

You swallow and your mother doesn’t press the issue any longer.

“You’re keeping it, I assume?”

You didn’t want to. “Yes.”

Your mother knits her brows. “You don’t look excited.” She wants to joke, but the tension is noticeable. “Don’t go through with this if you aren’t ready, Y/N.”

You want to scoff at her ignorance. She didn’t know that you’ve already tried to get rid of the demonic seed - and said seed had killed your doctor right before you. You’re unsure what it’ll do to you if you tried to kill it once more, even if it did need you to survive for now.

“But if you do, you know I’m always here for you.”

Your heart thumps out your chest. 

You don’t want your mother to be a part of your pregnancy journey - not because you didn’t love her or want to share this moment. But because you didn’t want her to get attached to this demonic child. You didn’t want her to be hurt by it, either.

“I know.” you tell her, a sullen look upon your face.

A strained smile, appearing more like a grimace, is what your mother gives you in return. She doesn’t want to pry into your life any more than she needs to. You’re an adult and could make your own decisions. It was her responsibility to be there for you when you needed her to be. 

“Are you hungry? I have some fruit in the fridge that I just cut.”

You nod your head. One thing you’ve noticed was your growing appetite. Pregnancy cravings wouldn’t be like this if you were pregnant with a human fetus. You always felt hungry or thirsty, appetite never truly satiated.

“I’m going to go get dinner started since that’s what you’ve come for.” your mother snickers. She lifts up from the kitchen table and makes her way towards the fridge. She grasps the large bowl of fruit. She grabs you a spoon and makes her way back towards you. 

“Thank you.” you hum, stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go watch something.” you tell her before making your way out of the kitchen, bowl in hand. 

You do exactly that. You begin to eat the fruit rapidly, humming with satisfaction. If you could look at yourself now, you’d be certain that you looked like a starving pathetic mess. 

“Oh shit.” you hiss.

It’s been about 15 minutes and you just noticed that you ate all of the fruit. The spoon you once had has long been discarded and you ate with your hands, snatching the slippery fruit and shoving it in your mouth.

Licking your lips, your face burns with self pity and embarrassment. More so because you were still hungry, as sad as it sounded.

Your right hand touches the empty bowl and you shriek when the bowl suddenly disappears, but in its place is a plate of raw meat - a large bloody steak. You slam the plate down onto the coffee table with wide eyes.

You lift yourself from the couch and make your way down the hall to the bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you and fall to your knees to vomit right into the toilet. The amount would be alarming if you haven’t already grown accustomed to doing so daily.

“Our son is a part of you now.”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, gently rubbing circles. You would be startled if this wasn’t something Jungkook did often. He would creep into your life whenever you were alone - and sometimes you swore you could hear him in your thoughts even when he wasn’t there.

“You shouldn’t ignore his preferences.”

You spit into the toilet a final time then flush. “Raw meat is not a preference.” you hissed. “It sounds like he wants to kill me.”

Jungkook watches as you rinse your mouth out, leaning against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I’m human. Unlike you. Or this thing you put inside of me.”

Jungkook blinks, lips in a thin line. “Our son.” 

You glance into the mirror to look at Jungkook. His crimson eyes are staring right at you and he isn’t amused. 

“You feel sick because our son feels everything you do.” Jungkook takes a step closer. 

“Hatred and self-pity?” you snort.

Once again, Jungkook isn’t amused. 

“Nothing is going to kill you. Not raw meat, not our son or me.” Jungkook speaks. “You’re basically immortal until you give birth. Each day our son grows stronger and you would temporarily gain his powers.”

You feel like vomiting again at the thought of being able to conjure raw meat - all because the child prefers it.

“Turn around, my beautiful human.”

You exhale a breath and turn towards Jungkook. At your actions, he grins down at you. A hand places itself onto your cheek. 

“Having powers is new to you. Humans are so weak.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“I don’t want any powers.” you tell Jungkook. Maybe if you were a child wishing to fly or be invincible - but this was not that. You could feel yourself changing everyday and it frightened you. This was real - you were pregnant with a demon fetus by a demon who refused to leave you alone. 

“You’ll have to adjust. For our son.” Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb and you hate the way your heart jolts at his actions. “How do you feel right now?”

You swallow.

Your stomach no longer churned and you didn’t have the urge to vomit. The fear, nausea and anxiety were slowly drifting away as if the weight of the world were no longer on your shoulders, even if you knew deep down that your situation was completely against your control. 

“Hm.” Jungkook hums, tilting his head. He can read your thoughts, after all. “Like I know. You feel better because I’m here. Our son feels at ease when I’m around.”

Jungkook drops his hand from your face to your stomach. There was nothing for him to touch, no bump. Yet and still, he does. 

You feel warm, a strange sensation flowing through you.

You inhale.

“Our son can never fully feel at ease with just you because he understands how you feel about him. The disgust, the anger. Hatred.” Jungkook is whispering now, as if trying to speak to just you and not the unborn fetus. “You’ll adjust, my beautiful human. All you have to do is give in. Stop thinking about just you and think about our son.”

You want to roll your eyes. Jungkook was guilt tripping you - and you were falling for it. He was right. Whenever Jungkook was with you, you never felt anything but comfort. You weren’t constantly in your own thoughts thinking about your situation. The fetus was demonic and therefore is more advanced than a human child at its stage. 

‘He.’ Jungkook pipes in, entering your mind. His crimson eyes burning into your own. ‘Refer to our son as he, not an it.’

You sigh.

“You’re hungry.” Jungkook speaks and you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or the fetus. His hand gently rubs your stomach.  “You can’t just eat what you usually do. Remember your body is changing. You’re feeding a demon.”

You grimace. The thought of eating raw meat disgusts you. Not only because it’s raw and bloody - but because the aroma entices you. It makes your mouth water and you want nothing more than to sink your teeth inside of it.

“You eat raw meat?” you question meekly. 

Jungkook nods. “I eat everything.”

That statement alone frightens you. 

“Don’t give me that look.” Jungkook chuckles low at your expression. “I can feed off of anything. You feed me all the time.”

You’re hot at his response and you want to push him away.

Jungkook only comes closer to you. “As a demon, I do not need to physically eat to be fed. You feed me with sex, yes. But you also feed me with your aura, emotions. I can go out and do the same with other humans. They won’t satiate me because they aren’t you, so I don’t.” Jungkook turns you around once more so you can face the mirror. He embraces you from behind, grasping your hand and placing it upon your stomach, his large hand on top yours. 

“I cannot tell you what I do as a demon, because then you’ll be frightened of me.” And Jungkook has already gotten you used to his presence and he refuses to go back to you being disgusted with him (prior and after sex, never during). “But I feed off of human’s fear and negativity.”

There’s a sharp pain in your rib and you hiss slightly. Another thing you’d have to get used to. The fetus had strength like no other. The amount of times you woke in the middle of the night to it - he - kicking you was insane. 

“If I feel like sinking my teeth into something. I can feed off of human food, yet it’ll never satiate me enough. Just like you, eating human food will never satisfy our son.” Jungkook rubs your stomach, his palm warm. The sharp pains stop and you ponder if it’s something Jungkook was doing. 

“You’re going to be disgusted because you are not yet a demon.” The word yet doesn’t fly past your ears, but you allow Jungkook to continue. “But as our son grows, so will your appetite. You’ll crave more than raw meat.”

“What else do demons eat?” You’re afraid to ask, especially looking at Jungkook’s soft smile through the mirror's reflection. 

“Blood. Both animal and human.”

Your throat tightens. 

“Demons also consume humans raw or they can be cooked.”

Your mouth salivates and your eyes begin to water. You want to vomit at his words. The thought of the child being so hungry that you consume human meat and blood…

But then as you think about it, you’re even more frightened by how hungry you’re beginning to feel at the thought of it. 

Jungkook places his chin on your shoulder and smirks. Slowly, you were going to come around. As a human, you were naturally weak and simple minded - but you’d change. You’d eventually come to trust him and love the child growing inside of you. You were a woman after all, and women tend to be nurturing and loving. 

“You can even drink my blood.”

Your brow knit together at Jungkook’s words. 

“Some demons also feed on other demons. That’s more of a power gaining way, however, it’s still possible. Since you are bound to me, it’ll be more of an intimate type of way.” Jungkook speaks. He holds your gaze in the mirror, not faltering. 

“Is this another way for you to have my soul or something?” Drinking a demon's blood was not something you’ve ever heard of, but it had to be more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

Jungkook chuckles. You were smart, he thinks. However, humans could never be as smart as a demon. “Your soul already belongs to me. As does your body, mind, heart and your womb.” But, you’d come to love and trust him a little quicker if he had his blood flowing through you.

You sigh in defeat.

“Would you like to try it?”

You swallow and shake your head. 

Jungkook hums. “Afraid you’d like it?”

Yes. “No.” you quip. “I-I…I’m human.” you blink away to avoid his eyes. “It’s just too much to handle right now.”

“You cannot keep starving our son. How about you eat the steak first and get accustomed to animal blood. Then we’ll transition from there.”

EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I can’t stay.”

Your boss slowly turns to look at you. “Why not?”

“I told you I can no longer do any overtime.” you murmur.

You were slowly accepting the fact that you were pregnant by Jungkook and though he was a demon, you suppose it had perks to it. 

One of the perks was conjuring, as Jungkook put it. Your son was growing rapidly as was his powers. You were able to conjure up whatever he desired, and also whatever you did. But sometimes it was something you could not control. You recall sitting at your desk thinking about how thirsty you were and had been shocked when in front of you sat a gallon of water. You sat embarrassed when you drunk the entirety of it in under five minutes. 

Being pregnant also meant you were always hungry and tired, the demonic child completely draining you at times. You only felt energy when Jungkook was around and holding you. You’re positive he was using his own demonic powers to give you energy, but you never asked and he never confirmed anything. 

With furrowed brows, your boss scoffs. “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

You blink. 

“You’re single and pregnant.” your boss continues and now you’re taken aback. “Don’t you think you need the money?”

You can feel your blood boiling. The office was getting empty by the minute, your co-workers all scattering off. You would stay late with your boss to do extra work at times, but it was never mandatory. You were always getting pushed over and were far too nice to tell your boss to fuck off. 

“I…” you’re unsure what to say. “Who says I’m single?”

That’s seriously what you’re upset about, being assumed a single mother? But you couldn’t help it. You wore a ring for heaven's sake - sure it was given to you by a demon, but it was still a ring! You’re unsure if Jungkook meant what he said about the two of you being married - again, demon and human. You and he were nod wed at a church like you always imagined you’d be, but you were bound together.

Your boss snickers once more. 

“Well I never see a man pick you up. Your lunches are often spent alone. I don’t judge, Y/N. Single mothers are all around the world.”

You shake your head at your boss's words. 

“If anything, if you are dating someone, the guys an asshole for allowing you to work while pregnant anyways-”

Your boss suddenly screams. You flinch away from him with wide eyes as your boss is engulfed in flames. Literal flames. The pale blue and orange flames engulf him entirely, the smell of burning flesh meets your nostrils. 

The fire alarm is loud, and soon you’re being wet due to the sprinkles above you. You're frozen and your eyes are wide with shock and fear. The loud screams echo in your ears and all you can do is watch as your boss lays onto the ground.

The scenery changes in an instant and you’re no longer in the office, but your bedroom. You swallow, shuddering. 

“My beautiful human…”

Jungkook appears before you. He frowns at your appearance. 

“You’re wet.” Jungkook hums. “And trembling. You’re probably wondering what’s wrong.”

You sob, utterly confused at what in the world that just transpired in a matter of seconds. Your knees buckle and when you feel as if you’re going to fall to your knees, Jungkook catches you. 

“I told you that our son will get stronger as time goes on.” Jungkook speaks, tone soft. “You will gain his power and if it isn’t controlled, it will be unruly.”

You gasp.

Oh no.

“I-I did that?” you’re horrified.

Jungkook wants to coo at your innocence. “Of course you did. Our son played a big role. He doesn’t like when anyone bad-talks his parents.”

Jungkook's expression shows that of a proud father, but you’re more terrified than anything else. 

“You also wanted to.” Jungkook continues. “You felt it in you, right? The way your blood boiled. The anger.”

You snap your eyes shut. You never wanted to hurt anyone before, but Jungkook was correct. The anger you felt at your bosses words - how you were assumed to be a single mother that just needed the money because of that reason. How sinister your boss spoke to you - as if you weren’t a human that deserved decency.

“It’s okay, my beautiful human.” Jungkook rubs your back to calm you. He can sense the rise in your heart beat. “You’ve done what you thought was right. Give in to it.”

You swallow. “I-I…I don’t think I can go back.” 

“You don’t need to.” Jungkook assures. “What are you working for when everything can be provided for you by me?”

“I do have bills.” you retort.

Jungkook snorts. “Bills are something humans created out of boredom. That isn’t something you have to worry about.” Jungkook leans away to have a look at you. “How about you come live with me?”

You flinch away from him. “In Hell?” you appear as if Jungkook’s hands burned you by the way you smacked them away.

“Don’t be foolish, Y/N. I won’t be taking you to Hell.” Yet, Jungkook thinks. “Demons do have to hide in the human realm. I have a home where I often stay while on Earth.”

You blink.

You never thought about where Jungkook goes when he isn’t with you. You always assumed he went to Hell - how he got there you weren’t sure. Yet again, he came and went as he pleased whenever he wanted to.

“It’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you. You don’t have to work. Don’t want you burning the whole place down, do we?” 

Jungkook’s attempts at a joke isn’t amusing. You have never been more terrified in your life, and knowing now that you were the reason for it sends shivers up your spine. 

“I guess so.”

Jungkook smiles at you, a smile that meant more than you were looking into.

SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Isn’t it cute?” your mother beams as she holds up the small article of clothing.

You swallow, grasping it in your hands. It’s a baby’s onesie - one that’s soft at the touch and so small that it causes your heart to swell. It’s gray, your mother’s attempt to be gender neutral, and comes with a little hat.

“Have you gone to see what the gender is?” your mother asks you.

You blink up from the onesie and slowly nod your head.

You haven’t gone, of course. You had put all of your trust into Jungkook - a part of you screaming that it was a bad idea. However, you didn’t need your son (or you) killing anyone else.

 Jungkook assured that the baby was safe and the happiest he’s ever felt. You moved in with Jungkook - shocked to see that he lived in a secluded estate deep in a forested area - and never truly had to worry about anything. You had an unlimited amount of food - even raw meat supplied by your son - and always rested for as long as you wanted; going as far as sleeping a full 24 hours.

“It’s a boy.” you murmur.

Your mother’s eyes widened and slowly, so did her smile. She suddenly wraps you in a tight embrace - a sudden one. You were frightened by the suddency of it. You didn’t want the baby to assume she was attempting to hurt you and have your mother fall to the same  fate as the doctor and your boss.

“That’s so lovely.” your mother exclaims during her hug. When she releases you, you sigh in relief. “A boy is a blessing.”

You could only give a soft smile. 

“Come. Let’s look for more clothing now that I know I’m having a grandson.”

Your mothers excitement is refreshing. You try not to think of the future when you give birth. If the baby had such strength and power while not being born, you can imagine what he would be like just as a newborn or a toddler. The thought often keeps you wondering, even if Jungkook assures you that everything would be alright.

Your mother was right about one thing. When she dragged you from her home while visiting her to a baby boutique, she said it would bring you joy to buy things for the baby. She recalls the times she did the same for you before you were born, both of your mothers joyfully picking out everything pink and girly - just for you to soon get tired of the bright colors; how ironic. 

Your hand places itself onto the bump of your stomach - that has since grown in size. You’re positive that normal women weren’t this size at just three months, but you would have to remind yourself that your circumstances weren’t the same as anyone else's. 

In your free hand is an all black pajama onesie. It’s basic, nothing truly special about it. There was no graphic or letter on it, however it caught your attention.

You feel a kick on your lower stomach, and you snort. “You like it, too?” you murmur to the child, the hand on your stomach gently rubbing. “You’ll look a lot like your father if you wore this. All black…”

Your body feels warm; euphoric. You shudder at the unfamiliar feeling. Your skin litters with goosebumps and your heart begins to jolt. Your mind blanks for a moment, and it’s as though you’re no longer in the boutique. You glance up from the onesie, completely still at the sight before you. It was an outer body experience, as if you’re watching yourself through a lens.

Humming, a low familiar tone you recall your own mothers humming to you. You see yourself, arms occupied with a baby as you rock said baby back and forth, humming the familiar tune to calm him down. The baby’s eyes are open and it’s then that you recognize the crimson eyes that are similar to Jungkook.

“Are you okay?”

When you blink, it’s as if the world comes back to normal. The soft music in the boutique continues, and you’re now looking at your mother.

What in the world just happened?

“Yeah.” you nod your head.

“Is that all you’re getting?”

You shake your head. “No. Just thinking…” you murmur. 

Your mother doesn’t pry and you’re thankful for that.

‘Our son is communicating with you.’

Jungkook’s voice rings through your head. Your eyes glance around the boutique and you ponder where he could be at. 

‘I’m not here, beautiful human. I still have access to you even if you are not with me.’

That explains things.

‘Our son has found a way to communicate with you. He’s telling you that he’s happy.’

You glance at your mother for a moment.

‘Didn’t you feel the euphoria run through you? Your mood has changed and now you’re glowing, my beautiful human. You see what happens when you accept the product of our bond?’

Everyday there’s something new with the child. You’ve already conjured whatever you desired, set someone on fire and a few times found yourself instant transferring yourself somewhere. Jungkook called the action ‘blinking’ and you could only do it a couple feet away, however you did it regardless. Now knowing that the fetus is communicating with you sends shivers up your spine.

Later on that night, you find yourself in the forest area. The sun has since set and you were alone. You’re unsure where Jungkook was, but you never dwelled on it. He always returned right before you went to bed.

In any other situation, you’d be frightened to walk alone at night - especially in such a secluded area. However, it was as if fear was slowly removing itself from your life. You recall Jungkook’s words from months prior. You were immortal now in a way. Whatever threat your son felt was eliminated and a deep part of you feels liberated about it.

Your head snaps when you hear a sound like leaves rustling. Your eyes squint, the only source of light is the moon above.

It appears to be the size of a dog, you note. You’ve never seen a fox up close before. Its fur is an auburn color and its eyes stare right at you, unmoving.Suddenly, its tail begins to move, the thick bushy swooping back and forth.

You take a step closer and, alerted, the fox begins to flee.

Your mind doesn’t register what you’re doing. Your feet already pick up and now you’re chasing the fast animal. Your speed astonishes you. You’re pregnant, appearing more far along into pregnancy then what you actually were. You don’t recall when you’ve ever run this fast in your life.

In a matter of seconds, your scenery changes and you’re in front of the fox, startling it. Your fingers dig into the thick fur of the fox and you fall to your knees. You aren’t aware of what you’re doing, not even when your teeth - now sharp and canine like - sink into the foxes neck. 

You don’t register the screeching the fox does when you repeatedly sink your teeth into it, blood splatting onto your clothing, hands and face. The taste hits your mouth and you’re unable to stop the feast, the blood hitting your throat and satiating a thirst you weren’t aware you held.

Only when the animal was drained did you realize what you’ve done - and what you could possibly look like now. Your eyes widened and you began to shake. Suddenly, right beside the drained dead fox, did you vomit.

SIX MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

You cried and cried and cried that night you killed an animal with your bare hands. And now, a month later, you continue to cry as you’re covered in animal blood. You’re disgusted with how good it tastes and how willing you are to keep doing it.

“You’re going to have to stop crying eventually.” Jungkook dips the ring he has given you underneath the running water. “You’re feeding our son. You should never feel saddened about that.”

“I killed it with my bare hands!” you wail, hiccuping. Your stomach churns for even more blood - your son just wants to mock you, you’re sure. 

Jungkook turns off the water and sighs. He places the ring to dry on a paper towel before turning to you. 

“As you should. Our son needs to eat.” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to your weeping figure. “Come on, my beautiful human. Let’s go bathe.”

Bathing with Jungkook was something he insisted on doing every once in a while - he understands it calms you down, even when you won’t admit it.

The shower and the tub are separate and the water is warm upon entering. You feel self-conscious about your naked body at times, it was growing hard to see your own feet or anything below you as you walked. But you were making the most of your situation.

The water running down the drain is red, obviously due to the animal that you slaughtered and ate. You rub along your skin with the warm water and sigh when you feel yourself slowly start to calm down.

You feel a cold substance on your shoulders and you shudder. Then, there’s hands - Jungkook’s - rubbing along them. You sigh, melting into his touch. For a moment, it’s silent and neither of you say anything. The shower water slaps against the floor as Jungkook’s hands work along your neck.

“Our son is getting stronger.” Jungkook says. “His hunger will grow as he does. You can’t keep crying each time you kill an animal.”

Your head falls back against Jungkook’s chest and you sigh. “I know.” you say, but it didn’t make things any better. “I just feel bad afterwards.”

“You eat meat all the time.” Jungkook snorts. 

“That I don’t have to kill!” you retort. 

Jungkook is silent and you take it upon yourself to finish your shower, making sure to wash every inch of you until you’re satisfied. Once you were, you turned towards Jungkook to find that he also had been washing. His eyes are on you, and slowly, a smile forms onto his lips. 

“Let’s bathe.” he says, rinsing himself off. 

Jungkook doesn’t allow any retorts. With a flick of a hand, the shower turns off and the bath - around 10 feet away from the shower - turns on. You watch as he sits inside the bath, back against the cold tub. “Come.” he says.

You roll your eyes, but comply. 

“Don’t face me.” Jungkook says. “I want us both to relax.”

Relaxing means your back against Jungkook’s chest while he lays a hand upon your bump. It’s like your son always knows when Jungkook’s near, you can see just how your stomach shifts wildly.

“Would it be better if I killed the animals for you?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His hands rub another part of your stomach to meet the baby’s kicks and it looks like a game between the two.

You shrug your shoulders. “Not really sure what the difference is. I’m still going to feel sad about it.”

“You humans are fragile.” Jungkook snorts. “The difference is you wouldn’t have to be so bloody at the end of it all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” you hum, but you didn’t want to talk about that anymore. The water is the perfect temperature and it relaxes your nerves throughout. Whatever game your child and Jungkook was playing seemed to die down, he was no longer kicking or punching.

“My beautiful human…” 

You feel Jungkook’s lips on your neck, placing soft kisses. You’re already knowing what the man wants, especially when his hand dips down from your bump to between your legs.

“Should’ve known this was just an excuse to get between my legs.” you acknowledged. 

You feel a tickle from Jungkook’s breath, a chuckle at your response. “The same legs that are widening for me to gain more access?”

Jungkook had a point, you think. There’s a hand gripping your breast while the other begins to play with your clit. You bite your lip at the feeling.

It’s crazy to think how domesticated you became. You no longer shied away from Jungkook when it came to sex - because it was inevitable. He was going to take you regardless if you denied him or not; the hot throbbing feeling between your legs growing needier by the second if you hadn’t. 

Not only with sex, but you became happy to see Jungkook - as if he wasn’t a demon fated to ruin your human life. You wake up with Jungkook by your side, a hand on your stomach. You and he ate together - what human food you could tolerate - and you didn’t feel like being with him was a burden. 

Your son was happiest when Jungkook was around, too. The kicks that would send shockwaves through your body only ever happened when the man was close - it was how you knew Jungkook was near before he made his presence known.

“I can never keep my hands from you, my beautiful human.” Jungkook steadies two fingers inside of you. “You’re glowing.”

You snicker, but it’s died down with a moan. Jungkook begins to pump inside of you, the splashing of the water evident with the pace he’s going. 

“Our son is sucking all the life out of me.” you retort. You never looked like yourself. There were times you’d look in the mirror and swear you’d seen a ghost - and even the faintest crimson color in your eyes. 

Jungkook freezes, his kissing on your neck coming to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you question, ready to remove yourself from him when Jungkook brings you back. 

“This is the first time you called him our son.” Jungkook says, a small smirk forming onto his lips against your skin. Slowly, you were adjusting to the changes Jungkook had forced upon you - like you should be.

“Not like you gave me a choice.” you murmur in defense. “I stopped calling him an it months ago.”

You have, but to hear you say our son like you have is different, but the demon doesn’t dwell on it, he had a job to do, and it was to make you cum.

TWO MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

The first time you’ve tried human blood had your taste buds going crazy - you swore you’ve never tasted anything as savory before. You never wanted anything else afterwards, and if you did, it had to be drenched in human blood. 

The raw streak you ate had a blood bag of human blood, obtained by Jungkook who always satiated your thirst for blood. 

There was a time in which you ate fries with a side of human blood because ketchup couldn’t satisfy you or your son.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat - enjoys feeling his son's demonic aura. You’ve grown in size, far larger than a human pregnancy. His son was large; small hand and foot prints pushing against your stomach to be released.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat because now you no longer cared about how you looked. Your appearance took a slight change - thanks to the child. Your eyes matched his own, the crimson color. Your face appeared more full, as did your breast - an action he wasn’t opposed to.

You now fully embraced that you were birthing a demon and you’d remain by his side for eternity - and now that you’ve accepted the fact, it made things easier.

“Damn it.” your mother curses, dropping the sharp knife she was holding. It clunks against the ground, droplets of blood falling besides it.

Your eyes zone in on your mother clenching her finger. This was the first time she was in your home - she insisted on cooking for you and Jungkook as this was the first time she’s been meeting him.

The iron smell of your mothers blood reaches your nostrils and there’s a low groan that releases from your lips.

‘No.’ you tell yourself. ‘Not her.’

You swallow. “Are you okay?”

Your mother snickers. “Yeah. Just cut myself. Let me get this cleaned up.”

Your mother turns on the faucet to clean the blood from her finger. You release a sigh, placing a hand upon your stomach. Your son is moving, obviously having sensed the human blood near.

‘I can’t eat her.’ you tell your son, stern with your choice. The fetus is upset, sending a few kicks against your spine, but you were adamant. 

“Is everything alright?”

Jungkook blinks into the room on que, thankfully your mother had her back turned. 

‘Why is our son trying to break your back?’ Jungkook asks you, his eyes on your face. But before you can answer, he eyes your mother and can smell the blood.

“Luckily for you,” Jungkook places a white cup with a lid and straw in your hand and gives you a wink. “I’ve brought refreshments.”

Your mother loves Jungkook - who knows demons can make break impressions. She had not suspected he was anything but human and you’ve noted that this was the first time you saw Jungkook had dark eyes instead of the crimson ones. 

You’ve never seen Jungkook interact with anyone that wasn’t you and the act appeared…human like. He ate your mothers cooking, he complimented it. He laughed and joked with your mother and oftentimes would place a hand on your bump when your son was craving more than what your mother cooked.

“I think you two are good together.” your mother says at the door while she wraps you in a hug. “You look…happy. So alive.”

You laugh. “Do I?” you aren’t sure if you can call it thought. You were drinking human blood to satisfy the demon growing inside of you.

“Yes. You’re glowing.” your mother takes a look at you with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen this glow since…”

You know where she’s going, but she doesn't say it. She doesn’t wish to ruin a happy moment between the two of you. 

Once your mother is gone, you’re left with Jungkook. He snaps his fingers and the dishes in the sink are gone.

“I can’t believe he was trying to break my back.” you sigh, placing a hand on your stomach. There’s no movement, probably means he was relaxed now after all the mayhem he was causing earlier.

“Yes.” Jungkook places a hand on the top of your bump. “It would’ve healed automatically. Still a stubborn one.”

Like father like son, you think, and all Jungkook can do is hum in agreement.

Sex with Jungkook became a habit - more now than ever. You never questioned him when he said he found you irresistible. You looked ready to explode and you never had any true stamina to help - but Jungkook never cared. He always insisted on eating you out until you’re squirming, suckling on your clit as if his demonic life depended on it.

Even now as you allow Jungkook to fuck into you while you were on top, Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo at your thoughts - and give you what you want.

‘You can bite me, my beautiful human. It won’t hurt.’ 

You flush hot when you hear Jungkook in your head - that meant he was listening in to what you were thinking. Yet, you shouldn’t be alarmed because he did it so often.

And all you were thinking about was biting him, your mind flooding with his words of months prior. How drinking his blood would be intimate for the both of you.

And now you didn’t care, no longer feeling the disgust as you did months ago. Your teeth gradually sink into the skin of Jungkook’s neck and you bite harshly until you feel the taste of irony on your tongue.

The act alone causes Jungkook to fuck into you harder, fingers bruising into your hips. He grunts a few swear words as your tongue licks upon the bleeding wound. If your former self could see you now - willingly sucking on Jungkook’s neck for any type of blood while he fucks you to his heart (did demons have hearts?) content.

Jungkook’s eyes marvel at you, blood - his blood - trailing down your chin. Your eyes resembled his own (side-effects of the pregnancy) and you appeared to be like a true demon.

‘My beautiful wife.’ Only slightly does your eyes widen from hearing Jungkook in your mind and you’re beginning to think you were hearing things - but you weren’t. This was the first time Jungkook had called you his wife - not beautiful human, but his wife.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace to bring you closer to him, his lips on your chest. His own teeth sink into you, quivering with pleasure when your blood hits his tongue. His thrusts never stop, not until you’re cumming around him so beautifully and he does the same inside of you.

ONE MONTH BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“I’m trying.” Jimin grits his teeth at the younger demon. “You’ve been gone for months, Kook. They’re asking questions.”

“Then tell them something to make them stop asking questions.” Jungkook hisses back.

“They’re not going to stop asking questions.” Taehyung’s voice sounds from behind Jungkook. “There’s been rumors.”

“Rumors?” Jungkook furrows a brow and scoffs. “What rumors-”

“The infamous Jungkook has grown soft in the Human realm.” Jimin announced, a teasing tone in his voice. “You haven’t been back to the Underworld in so long they’re beginning to think you found someone here.”

“Have you?” Taehyung asks, blinking besides Jimin, to lean against the wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, Kook…it’s just a question.”

“I’ve been working.”

“On?” Jimin questions. 

“Why is it any of your concern?”

“You’ve always told us.” Taehyung retorts. “It’s not like you to leave the Brotherhood without as much as a word.”

“I’m not leaving the Brotherhood.” Jungkook scoffs. “I have business to attend to here.”

“What’s that?” Jimin stands from his seat, eyes roaming around the room. “Do you feel that?”

Jungkook swallows, tongue in his cheek. His son always had the perfect timing to be awake and showcasing whatever power he had. 

“Yeah.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “It’s faint but-”

Jimin blinks away and Jungkook already knows where he’s going. He does the same, leaving Taehyung stunned and in the kitchen.

Jungkook is in front of your sleeping figure before Jimin is, eyes glaring at the older demon. 

“Well…” Jimin’s eyes are on you - more so your stomach. “Looks like the child wants out.” the tiny foot and hand prints are pushing against your stomach and not once did you stir, having grown used to it over the months.

“You…” Taehyung eyes you sleeping soundly upon the bed and then back to Jungkook. “...asshole-”

“She’s asleep.” Jungkook hisses, lowering the tone in his own voice. As his son grew, he was growing restless, wanting out of you. He rarely allows you to sleep and now that you were able to, Jungkook wasn’t going to allow his brothers to ruin it.

“Are we going to ignore the obvious child in her stomach?” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure with a moving stomach. “How is she not waking by that alone?”

“She’s grown used to it.” Jungkook glances behind himself at you. He only allows a slight grin before he turns back to his two brothers. “Are you done here?”

Jimin is the first to blink away, followed by Taehyung. Jungkook sighs then does the same, now inside the kitchen once more. 

“When were you going to tell us you’re having a son?” Jimin is upset, now facing Jungkook. 

“I’m so upset.” Taehyung shakes his head. 

Jungkook tilts his head. “I have my reasons.” is all Jungkook says.

Jimin scoffs. “We have to be there when he’s born. It’s a tradition.” he says matter-of-factly. “This is your first son. A new member of the Brotherhood.”

Taehyung watches Jungkook’s reaction. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything. “Does she not know you’re a demon?” he asks, yet he isn’t sure it’s that. You had to have known that you were pregnant with a non-human child - the fetus was attempting to claw its way out of you as they speak.

“She does.”

Jimin waves his hand. “Then why are you keeping her from us?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook grits. 

“He doesn’t know.” Taehyung states. “That’s why you’re still in the Human realm.”

Jimin furrows his brows, glancing between Jungkook and Taehyung.

Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek. He inhales deeply and then nods his head. 

The Source did not know what he was doing or where he was at - and Jungkook was doing everything in his power to keep it that way. He only returns to the Underworld to report back to the Source monthly like all the demons do; especially the upper-level ones such as himself and the Brotherhood. 

A hybrid child is not unknown to the Underworld, but rarely did the human parent survive - most times being killed. Hybrid children were often used to blend into the Human world, most times coming off as “more” humanly than that of a full demon who would have to mask their appearance.

However, Jungkook was not just a demon, but an upper-level one that worked closely to the Source. And though his brothers were accepting of you and his son, that didn’t mean the rest of the Brotherhood would.

“We have to tell the others before they come upon themselves.”

“No.” Jungkook is certain in his choice. “You’ve already called me weak.” Jungkook didn’t want to know what they’d attempt to do if they found you to be a problem with his demonic duties or his power.

“It’s not up for debate.” Taehyung began. “Like Jimin said, this is your first son and we’ll have to be there. It’s a tradition.”

Jungkook knew that it was inevitable - especially now that Jimin and Taehyung knew. He was anticipating that the baby would be born before the Brotherhood intervened - now his plans have changed. 

“You love the human.” Jimin states. “Obviously, the Brotherhood isn’t going to like that.” he chuckles, but at Jungkook’s hard stare, he lifts his hands. “But don’t worry. You have us.”

“They aren’t going to allow you to keep the Human.” Taehyung speaks realism and not what Jungkook wants to hear to spare whatever feelings he holds for you. “Humans bring human feelings and we cannot risk you growing weak because of her.”

“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed at Taehyung and the tension in the room grows by the second. 

“I’m saying you need to get rid of the Human.” Taehyung speaks, and it’s as if a pin drops; the silence that comes after Jungkook speaks. “Once the baby is born.”

Jungkook doesn’t react that he wants to - the Brotherhood never attacks their own. But there’s something in his body that holds everything back for him to not attack Taehyung and it’s an act that begins to frighten him - because his brothers were correct. Humans did bring human emotions and if just the thought of you being harmed has Jungkook feeling like this, then you already had a target on your back to prevent a shift in the Brotherhood.

“You can’t kill her. Nor can I.” Jungkook speaks, eyes hard on Taehyung. “We’re already bound together. Brotherhood rule.”

Jimin snickers at his two bickering brothers, both standing tall and refusing to back down. “He’s right, Tae.” Jimin speaks. “The Brotherhood cannot harm or kill a fellow brother’s bound partner.”

Taehyung scoffs with a shake of his head. “How far the Brotherhood has fallen.” he announces. “I’m beginning to think the rumors of you becoming weak are true.”

Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Jungkook and Jimin to look where he once stood. 

“Taehyung will come around.” Jimin sighs. He’s tired of being the mediator between you and Taehyung’s bickering. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook swallows. “Do tell the Brotherhood to not return until my child is expected to be born.”

Jimin sighs but nods. Jungkook begins to step away and out of his kitchen. “And do tell anyone in the Underworld to test the rumors if they believe them to be true.

“I gave you my word, Y/N. That we'll be together.”

The Underworld isn’t what you’ve expected. Hell is always explained to be a fiery pit - nothing but flames enclosing around you.

This was far from it. 

The Underworld was dark, only light there was lit by candles - thousands of them lit. It’s quieter than you expected, as well. You were once told that Hell was home to evil spirits and those who’d died, forever screaming at their ultimate demise. 

Then again, Jungkook was a demon and you were never told that demons can look god-like.

Your ears pick up on soft coos, your attention fully on the baby in Jungkook’s arms. He was no longer a newborn, but appeared a few months older. 

Your heart swells.

“It wasn’t easy to find your soul, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks, his access to your mind remaining. “But I made you a promise.”

“Can I hold him?” you question. If you asked Jungkook too many questions about the Underworld, what he did and why he did it, you’d be here for an eternity. Your only focus was on your son.

Jungkook watches the way you hold the baby close to you, your nose against his puffed up cheeks. There’s a few more coos from his son, his aura calm and content to have be in your presence once more.

“Jungkook….”

The man stands straighter at the sound of his name leave from your lips.

“...I’m not a human anymore, am I?”

Jungkook gently shakes his head. “No.”

You’re silent for a moment. “And I can’t return back…home?”

“No.” Jungkook murmurs.

You hold the baby closer to you, never wanting to let him go. 

“What about my mother?” you dare to ask, but you’re unsure if you truly want the truth. 

Jungkook licks his lips. “Time is different in the Human realm than it is in the Underworld.” he speaks. “I was leaving the decision to you.”

You glance up from the baby - who is now slowly falling asleep - to Jungkook. “What do you mean?”

“I know how much you cared for her.” Jungkook begins. For the months he’s been with you, your love for your mother remained strong and the pregnancy never ruined the routined you held with her. “To make things easier for her, I can have her memory of you erased.”

You stiffen. “E-Erased?” you question. “As if I was never there?”

Jungkook nods.

You’re unsure what you want Jungkook to do.

You didn’t want your mother to be so heavily involved in your pregnancy. You didn’t know if you’d survive birthing a demon and you didn’t want your mother to lose you and her wife.

Yet, she already has and that thought alone pains you enough.

“I don’t want her to forget us.” you murmur - and maybe it was selfish of you. Your mother would live through such pain alone - the pain of losing her only child and a grandchild she could never meet. “I want her to think we’ve died in childbirth. Can you do that?” It was harsh, you’d admit, but it was your own selfish desire to keep your mother as close as you could. 

Jungkook nods.

“And…you can compel people, right? You have to compel her to accept the fact that I’m gone so she doesn’t try to look further into it.” you hold your son tighter, your voice cracking as you begin to speak.

“I understand.” Jungkook says. “My beautiful wife…” he trails off, coming closer to place a hand upon your cheek. His touch is warm just as you remembered it to be. He offers you a short smile then blinking out of your sight before you can speak.

Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae @bangtans-momma

[missredherring]

Fisting with Wolverine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 675

Contents: Fisting. Brief mentions of canon-typical violence and blood. A sprinkling of angst because it's Wolverine.

A/N: It's what it says on the tin, folks. I have nothing to say for myself.

This is loose-fit, lightly edited, and not beta read.

The first time you bring it up he says no immediately. 

“Ok, why not?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid.

When you just continue looking at him he raises a hand between you, makes a fist, and slowly extends his claws. 

You nod. “Fair point. You know they have these rubber caps you can put on claws so they don’t scratch–”

Logan huffs, claws retracting as he turns to leave. 

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you take his hand in yours and hold it between you like he had. “Look,” you say as you bring his fingers together, fore and pinky fingers under his middle fingers, and then tucking his thumb into the cradle they made. “This is also a fist. Think about it.”

You kiss his hand and leave him to brood.

When he agrees to try it with you it’s on the stipulation that you snag an empty room in the infirmary.

And isn’t that a fun conversation to have with Jean.

You do enjoy watching her squirm when you explain that you and Logan want to try a sex act that he feels might be dangerous, so he’d like to have easy access to the infirmary if necessary, but don’t worry, you trust him and aren’t worried yourself. 

The first three fingers go in easy, as usual, and the fourth is exciting.

Logan’s forehead is sweaty where he’s pressing it against yours, his eyes trained on your pussy and the way it stretches around his fingers.

He tucks his thumb under, just as you had done when you’d first shown him, and holds his breath as it’s gobbled up with a moan. 

You turn feral with all of his fingers inside of you, and he knows feral. Eyes rolling, chest heaving, mouth opening in soundless words as your hips work themselves on his fingers.

He’s getting excited now, some of the worry ebbing away and replaced by desire as he takes in your enthusiastic response. 

But with everything so slippery and wet between your legs, it happens so fast: your hips thrust down when his hand thrusts up and his knuckles disappear inside of you. 

Logan feels like he’s been gut-punched. 

The hot wetness around his hand is familiar, as is the way the body under him is writhing. 

You moan his name and it’s another cross he has to bear.

His muscles clench, his hand pulls back, and he prepares himself to see red red red.

But you grab at his wrist and plead with him, begging him to stay–

And that makes sense, he thinks. Removing the claws will make you bleed out faster, and of course he wouldn’t leave you like this, what kind of monster do you think he is–

“It feels so good. Oh, god, Logan. Fuck me, please- move your hand- I’m- fuck–”

He looks down at the mass of hands between you, and there’s not a speck of red in sight. It’s not blood that’s dripping from his wrist, but your arousal and lube and cum from the several orgasms you’ve already had.

He cradles your face in his other hand and forces eye contact between you, studying every detail, every micro-expression, that passes over your features. 

“Tell me, honey, you’re what?” Are you alright? I’m not hurting you, am I? Please, god, tell me I’m not hurting you like everyone else I lay these hands on.

“I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t make me come on your fist, Logan.”

His laugh wobbles from of his mouth, pushed out by a sob. He kisses you until you’re writhing again with impatience and lust and he finally takes the cue to move his hand.

Slowly, so slowly. The same inch, in and out, and then he has you howling as he tries rotating his wrist this way and that, massaging the big joint at the base of his thumb into your g-spot. 

You’re squeezing his fingers so hard as you come; maybe he’s the one who’s going to get hurt and not the other way around.

Tagging a few friends who might be interested: @joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @guiltyasdave @moonlitbirdie @bitchwitch1981

@perotovar @covetyou

[whitefeathers]

i’m literally day dreaming about mean daddy dom butcher yelling at me🫠

MDNI. cw: daddy kink, denial, butcher being a mean daddy dom, spanking (just the 1), spit kink, vvv light knifeplay

"You tryin' to be a fuck up or is it just in your DNA? You piss daddy right off to no end, you little cunt. Bend over." You know not to argue with Butcher when he shouts at you like this, and even though tears brim your eyes, you bend over the couch for him and present your ass. You wanna win back his favour, be his good girl. You just have to take his punishment.

He settles behind you, the slow thud of his combat boots against the floor getting louder until they stop, the shadow from his massive frame covering you entirely. He takes a switchblade from his pocket, clicking it open and grunting at you to not fuckin' move as he slices the waistband of your skirt. You flinch, and Butcher throws the knife to the floor, letting it clatter just to make you jump even more.

"Wearin' this stupid slutty outfit. Did you see Homelander eye fuckin' you? I know the bastard has x-ray vision but at least fuckin' try not to present your pussy to every man you see." He roughly palms the fat of your ass cheek, leaving skin blanched beneath his fingers. His hands feel cold and rough, and you shiver, biting down on a couch cushion to not whine. You know Butcher likes you quiet until he really starts. That's when he wants you screaming.

"And lookie here, eh?" He gets down on his knees to really inspect you, his face in line with your prettily arched ass. He's too damn tall to see shit when he's stood up.

His pointer finger traces your pussy through your panties, and the easy slide of his finger down through the wet fabric makes you hot with embarrassment. "This little princess cunt is all soaked. All cuz daddy yelled? Cuz daddy's getting mean?"

You don't reply, instead bucking into his touch, trying to grind your clit into his finger. He snatches it away and spits meanly onto the crotch of your panties, right where your cunt twitches beneath the fabric. His spit soaks through and mixes with your slick, making you feel uncomfortably slippery and disgusting.

"You wanna be wet, be wet, dumb cunt. Go put another one of your skirts on. Put that denim one on daddy likes, you know the one. Little short number. I ain't touchin' you til that pathetic little panty stain dries." He slaps your ass, hard, and stands up, turning away from you. You're left denied and confused, pushing yourself up on wobbly forearms and giving Butcher the best puppy eyes you can muster. You want his punishment, want his attention - anything but denial when he's gotten you so worked up.

He doesn't even have to turn back to look at you to know the look you're giving him.

"Wipe those puppy dog eyes off ya face. I don't care. If you're gonna be a slut, go be a slut. Go show off that wet cunt for everyone to see. Lemme know when you're all dry and know how to be a functional human and not a cum hungry cunt," he lights up a cigarette, settling himself down on the makeshift kitchen table and opening up his newspaper. He's still angry at you, you can tell. But he wants you to suffer for it.

"But- But daddy-"

"No buts." He glares over his newspaper at you, clicking his fingers and pointing at your bedroom door. "Do as ya told."

You do. Your panties don't dry up the whole night, not even when you and the rest of the team watch reruns of Midsomer Murders and Butcher ignores you completely, other than spot checks under the blanket to rub your cunt and see if you've gone back to normal.

Butcher loves being cruel to you, and he loves that you're this soaked for him. Even if you don't meet his conditions - which he knows you won't, your pussy is slick with arousal and he can practically hear the heartbeat in your clit hours after he yelled at you - he's still going to give you a good pounding later on. Make it all better for his good girl, yeah?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

I want to see Max. Billy says it the second they all leave.

Eddie sighs, but makes no attempt to fight it. He pulls the covers back and carefully, slowly, climbs out of bed. His feet are chilly on the linoleum, but socks would be slippery and Eddie just can't risk it, if he falls and busts his ass it could be catastrophic – not that he’d be able to bend to put socks on anyway. Steve has left him a worn old zip up hoodie on the chair – rescued from the trailer – so Eddie grabs that and slips it on, even though it hurts to put his arms back like that, it’s worth it for their chilly journey along the hall. Steve’s already told him that Max is only two doors down, so at least it’s not far. Well, it shouldn’t be that far, but actually it feels like fucking miles and takes what feels like twenty minutes for Eddie to shuffle along the hallway.

Conveniently her name is scribbled on a little board hanging outside her room.

Ready?

Ready.

Eddie opens the door.

Max is lying in bed, the bed is sat up a little, but not much. Below the covers, the casts on her legs look bulky. The ones on her arms sit on top of the covers, her fingers poking out the ends. The kids have drawn all over them.

She turns her head to look at the door. Must have heard them come in.

Something wells up inside Eddie, and he knows it’s Billy, such a strong sense of loss, of longing, relief, it’s a physical weight.

Hi, shitbird. “Hi, shitbird.”

Max makes a noise, tries to sit up, asks desperately, “Billy??” Eddie’s frozen there, for a second, watching as Max tries to struggle up, a lump caught in his throat. She’s blinking, her eyes as white as Chrissie’s were, “Billy please!”

“No, it’s Eddie...but also kind of yes, it’s Billy.”

Eddie closes the door and shuffles across the room, sits down next to Max.

“This is weird.”

No shit. “No shit.”

Max giggles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her.

She goes sombre for a second then, “I’m really sorry about the Camaro.”

I completely forgot about the stupid car. Errr...fucking tell her she can pay me back for it. Once she’s up off her ass and gets herself a job.

“He says don’t worry about the car, it doesn’t matter.”

Traitor.

Max snorts, “he definitely didn’t say that.”

Billy snorts a laugh. Uhm, hey, could you ask her...ask her hows Susan? And...Neil?

“He’s asking about Susan and Neil.”

“Oh. Well, after you died they started fighting even more and then eventually, Neil fucked off. They’re divorced now. Had to move out of the place on Cherry Lane. We’re Eddie’s neighbors now.”

She’s better off without him.

I’m not saying that. Eddie steadfastly doesn’t think about how often Susan’s car is gone. He goes not think about all the bottles he sees in their trash.

Tell her I’m glad she’s close to you then, at least.

Eddie schools his expression, trying not to react to that. What’s even worse is that Billy’s being sincere – he’s genuinely glad Eddie has his little sister near by. “He says he’s glad you’re near enough to hear my rocking tunes.”

She rolls her eyes, but Eddie can only tell because she moves her head. “Sure, yeah, listening to you fuck up the same song fifty million times in a row is such a treat.”

“Hey! I nailed it when it counted.”

The door opens then, “oh Max I didn’t realize you had visitors still – oh. Eddie, isn’t it?”

Eddie stands, “yes Ma’am-” Billy snorts, “-just come to keep my favorite neighbor company.” Susan looks exhausted, and as they shuffle past each other, Eddie can clearly smell the tang of alcohol, “Bye, Mrs. Hargrove.”

Mayfield.

“It’s Mayfield again now hon.”

Yeah, good.

What the fuck kind of name is Bilbo Baggins?

Shut up man, let me read.

Wait wait, turn the page back, you read too fast. This shit is confusing. Why are all the names so weird.

Eddie huffs a laugh, “want me to read out loud?”

There’s a moment of reticence that Eddie senses, before, okay.

Part Four

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 6

Summary: you become his

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, fingering, squirting, cockwarming, humiliation, edging, dry humping, pinching, mirrors, teasing, slapping, multiple orgasms, gun kink, squirting, tears, begging, choking, spanking, D/s dynamics, pain kink, forced marking, tattoos, fight, Steve Rogers, me (sorry guys. No I’m not), 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Tattoo edit created by @randomagnes0210

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Mmm,” Bucky moans from in between his now fiancé’s thighs.  Her eyes roam around the bedroom before looking over to his phone on the nightstand.  She is unable to fully enjoy Bucky feasting on her honey because she’s too in her head.  

Bucky pops his head up, watching his sweet neurotic love of his life be anywhere, but present.  Playfully he rolls his eyes before crawling up her body, and leans down to pepper kisses on her mouth, “Shy, what’s the matter, darling?” 

“I want to talk to Steve,” Bucky leans back, letting his eyes narrow while he tries to read her facial expressions. 

“Why?” Finally her vision settles on his handsome face, but she shrugs.  “No.  Until you tell me why, I won’t be giving you his number.  Why do you want to speak to him?” 

“I want him to let you come back home,” sighing, Bucky flips over on the bed, pulling her onto his chest.  His hands brush up and down her back while he presses his lips against her forehead.  “It’s not fair that you are going without sleep watching that girl.  Alpine misses you.”

“Alpine does, huh?  You’re bringing our daughter into this?” Bucky knows that when you blame Alpine for things like this, it’s also what you feel deep down as well. 

“What happens if we have a human daughter?  You’re still going to blindly listen to what Steve says?” Bucky starts to speak, but she covers his mouth with her hand.  “I’m just saying the job you’re doing is what someone else should be doing.  You are the second in command and he’s got you doing stupid shit.”

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing over her face, “But you have to be prepared for Steve not to listen,” she gives him a pitiful little pout, and all he wants to do is bite her kiss swollen lips.  He had been starving for her, and didn’t stop kissing her, except when she was asleep.  Her lips are still bruised.  “Shy, the reason he wants me to watch her is because he trusts me.”

“And he knows you won’t fuck her,” Bucky rolls his eyes, and she gives him a playful smack on his chest.  “I’m serious.  I know you’ve seen him fucking.  It’s his weird kink.  He doesn’t want you to touch, but he gets off on the humiliation of showing them off in front of his men, mostly you.”

“I’ve seen fuck many times.  I’m immune to his fuckery.  Fine.  Call him.”

“You are changing the subject.  You’ve seen her pussy, haven’t you?” There is no point in arguing with her, so Bucky just nods his head.  “Whose is prettier?” She asks, smirking and reaching for his phone.  Sitting up, she straddles his body, giving a little grind on his stomach.  “Tell me.”

“The cunt that is slippery on my stomach is the prettiest puss I have ever seen.  No puss feels better than yours when you got me in that gorilla grip, and nothing is sweeter.  Shy, darling, you know that the only cunt for me is…stop that,” he slaps her ass when she starts rolling her hips on him.  “I was making my declaration of love to that pretty pussy, and you’re trying to get me hard.  Call Steve.  Tell him what you need.”

“Not while you’re here,” she giggles.  Bucky moves his arms quickly, and pinches both of her nipples at the same time, “Bubba…”

“I want you to call Steve right now.  Use your strong voice that you use with me sometimes,” she takes a deep breath, pulling herself out from a lustful state, and giggles.  Attempting to push Bucky’s hands off her.  “No, I want to play with these,” he coos, rolling his fingers.

“Then stop pinching.  It kinda hurts.”

“Then why are you getting wetter?  Did you forget, I feel you?” Her hands soothingly rub up and down Bucky’s arms, loving the feel of his flesh and metal.  His hands flatten out, and he cups each breast in his hand, “Better?” 

“Give me your phone, Bubba,” Bucky cocks up an eyebrow, and she knows he’s not dropping his hands.  Instead she reaches over to grab his phone.  Unlocking immediately when her face comes into view to unlock the phone, she takes a deep breath.

“Shy, you’ve got this,” Shy had grown so much since the first time he met her.  She still kept to herself, and still didn’t like confrontation, but anything for Bucky.

“I know.  Be quiet, you.  I’m going to put this on speaker, so shush,” she waits patiently as the phone rings.  Using her free hand to cover Bucky’s eyes.  Lost in a sweet moment when she flinches.

“What do you want now?  I gave you your time off, enjoy your shy pussy,” his voice is so much harsher than Bucky.  Annoyed the moment he answers.

“Uhh…Steve?” 

“Is this the illusive girlfriend?” 

“Fiancé,” she informs him.  It did just happen, but she needs Steve to realize that Bucky was serious about their relationship.  

“Fucking hell.  He finally fucking did it.  He told me he was going to put a rock on you.  So he’s good to come back, and take care of business?  You got your ring, and he’s got his pussy locked down,” Bucky’s hands tense on her chest, and she gulps, trying to figure out what to say.  

“No…I — uhh…I don’t want Bucky to be gone for days at a time.  He should be allowed to come home every night, and…”

“Are you trying to tell me how to fucking command…”

“He’s not yours to command!” Her chest heaves as she blinks away her angry tears.  The hand covering Bucky’s eyes runs down his face to cup his cheek, and she uses her thumb to brush over his lips. 

“Steve, you’re using his loyalty against him.  Bucky has a home, and…maybe he could watch her during the day, and — a-a-and then she goes home with you,” Steve’s end of the phone goes silent, and Shy bites at her lip.  Her thumb is still caressing Bucky’s mouth before she slowly slips it past his pout.  He gives the appendage a little nibble, smiling up at her.  Bucky is so proud at how she’s handling the situation, even though he wants to throw Steve across the room.

“That’s not a bad idea.  I will need her to be with me soon anyways.  I won’t be able to keep my hands off her once my cock has finally…”

“Steve, I don’t need to hear how you’re going to take your girlfriend’s virginity.  I just need my fiancé to come home every night.  It’s what I need more than anything.  You know I need him, and…and he needs me, too.  We’re kinda co-dependent.”

“Huh,” he sits silent.  Kicking his feet up on his desk, while his hands run through his beard.  “I just need my little bird to be dependent on me.”

“Oh…well okay.  I hope she is then.  Uh…bye?” She receives her answer with a prompt ending of the call, and she looks up at Bucky.  “You’re coming home tonight.”

“Yep, and since I’m coming home, I’ll only take a shower with you.  We don’t have time for sex.”

“There’s always time for sex, Bubba.”

“Nope.  But when I come home, my sweet little Shy Violet, I’m going to make sweet love with you, and I’m going to put a baby right here in this belly,” his finger pokes her belly, and he holds on tight to her.  Lifting both of them off the bed.  “For now, we shower.  Tonight, I stuff you full!” 

You walk down the steps of your school, pausing as everyone else pushes around you.  It was the weekend, and they were ready to get it started.  You stand there staring at Steve smirking from the backseat of the SUV.  His hand rubs up and down his thigh while he waits on you.

When you make no attempt to walk towards him, he lifts his hand, curling his finger to wiggle at you.  Somehow, like a good girl you respond.  Once you get close enough, he opens the door.  Instead of scooting over, he holds out a hand to you.  “Wouldn’t it be easier for me to walk around the car and get in my own seat?” 

“No,” he smiles, still holding his hand out to you.  “You’ve got a new seat right here in my lap.  Let’s go.”

You take a moment to look around campus, making sure no one is watching you before you crawl in.  His hand immediately runs up your thigh, and pushes apart your legs.  Flattening his hand, he palms your covered core.  Biting on your lip, you refuse to let out any sounds.

“Those sounds belong to me, too,” you shake your head no.  Still in this weird tug-o-war game with him.  He enjoyed your spitfire ways, even if they annoyed him.  “Yeah, they do, little bird.  This slick that you have gathering in this cunt belongs to me just as much as those whimpers.”

“What — what are we doing?  Going?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he smiles, pushing aside your panties.  He stuffs three fingers into you, and you try to raise off his lap, but he pushes you back down.  Squirming around, you try to take a deep breath, attempting to adjust to his fingers, “Stop that.  I’m not going to finger you.  I just want to feel your walls flutter around me, while you keep them warm.  They’re cold,” he would be the one to find an excuse to have himself inside of you. 

“Where are we going,” you whisper, still refusing to give him any form of enjoyment.

“Bucky doesn’t want to watch you sleep anymore, so you’re going to my place.”

“The cabin?” His fingers curl into you, and he holds them right over your g spot, and you become annoyed with the lack of friction.  

“No.  My place.  Some nights I sleep upstairs in the club, but I don’t want them to hear you,” you gulp while you look at him.  Lip starting to tremble.  He had plans to make sounds scream out of you, “Are you ready to beg?” 

“No,” you answer with as much sincerity as you possibly can.  Gritting his teeth, his fingers start fucking into you.  Still curled, and still pounding over a spot that has stars that light up your vision.  “Steve, I said no!  Oh god!” 

It isn’t only squelching sounds, it is a waterfall as your cunt gushes out onto his lap.  Legs starting to tremble with your release.  You aren’t sure how he can make things happen so fast, but he always finds a way.  

“Steve!  Ahh,” both hands grab onto his arm, attempting to shove him out of you but he just goes harder.  Laughing when your pussy releases more arousal.  “Steve!  Steve!  Fuck!  Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

A gagging noise releases from your throat when his drenched hand circles around your throat.  “Steve, please…please, I didn’t mean to.  You were in me!” 

“You know very well what I fucking meant when I said I needed to be inside of you when you want to open that filthy fucking month.  Get on the goddamn floor,” your eyes look up to the front, and Sam rolls his eyes.  “Don’t look at him.  Get in the fucking floor, Dovey!” 

You scramble into the floor, and he rips open your shirt, pulling each tit above your bra.  Pinching on both nipples, he pulls you towards him.  “Take out my cock, and just hold it in your mouth.”

“What?” If you weren’t wet before, you are sopping wet now.  Could feel your slick sticking to your thighs as you twitch around.  His grip on your nipples is rough, and you want to yelp, but it would only make things worse.

“Did I stutter?  Take out my fat cock, and just hold it in your mouth.  If you suck on it, I will conduct a meeting with your legs spread wide, and my dick resting in your ass.  That way everyone gets to see your virgin cunt clench around nothing at all.  Do you understand?” It takes you too long to respond to him.  

His fingers grip your sensitive buds harder, pulling your face right over the hardening bulge in his pants, “Do you fucking understand, Dove?” 

“Yes, sir.  Yes, I understand,” tears cloud your vision as you unzip his pants.  Whimpering when your fingers come into contact with his heated and heavy cock.  

“Do not suck, Dovey,” he gives your nose a tap with his finger, letting you open your mouth wide, and you take as much of him as you can.  Kneeling on the floor, and waiting to get to your destination.

“Steve, you don’t think you’re being too mean to her?” Sam looks in the mirror with concern.  Everyone worried about your wellbeing more than Steve. 

“No,” he chuckles.  Adjusting his position, and pushing himself deeper into your.  “Make sure you breathe through your nose, little bird.  Sam, you know as well as I do I could be a hell of a lot meaner.  How do you like keeping my cock warm, Dovey?” You glare up at him, and he gives a quick swat to your cheek.

You didn’t mind giving him head but this just sitting here with his throbbing cock in your mouth is torture.  “If you’re gonna look up at him with your mouth so pretty and stuffed so full your cheeks hurt, at least look like you’re enjoying it.”

“You’ve got her stuffed in the floor of the car, and drooling in your lap, not to mention, you made sure her cunt made a fucking mess in my car — again.”

“That is my cunt, and it was beautiful.  I love that she’s extra sloppy.  Could you imagine pumping up that pussy until it’s good and swollen, and then pounding the shit out of her?  My god, she would just be a soaking fucking mess.  We’ll try that one day, Dovey.”

Humiliating.  And still your leak arousal.  This shouldn’t turn you on being treated like an object for his pleasure, but it did.  “Maybe you should take her out on a date,” Sam’s deep brown eyes look into the back, and Steve is actually smiling down at you.  “She might beg.”

The moan you release has Steve’s head tilting back.  He tries not to fully let go, but that felt fantastic.  “Is that what you want, little bird?  You want a date?  Moan twice for yes,” such an asshole.  He could have said once, but no.  He wants to make sure he gets as much pleasure from this as possible.

Still glaring up at him, you moan.  Wiggling a bit, trying to make yourself comfortable before moaning again.  “Well, we’re laying low right now,” your moan is more of a growl.  Dribble drifts down onto his lap, and you give him a little pout.  Both arms wrap around his leg, and you cling to him.  He seems to like you needy.  And what you need is relief, or for him to taste you.

“We’re not fucking going out, and that’s final.  Sam, make sure that Loki is at the house before you leave,” who the fuck was that?  Loki?  And why is Steve asking if you want a date, and then refusing?  Prick.

“Suck!” His hands plant themselves on the back of your head, and he forces you to take every bit of him.  Crying from lack of oxygen, and gagging with his cock shoved down your throat.  You couldn’t suck if you wanted to.  Steve just wants to push your limits.

Your nose presses up against his skin, and the feeling of your drool and tears just makes him hold you more.  “Yeah, Dovey, that’s a good fucking girl.  Can take every bit of my cook.”

“Steve.”

“Mmm, my god, that cunt is going to feel amazing,” your vision starts to blur, and you try to push yourself off him, but he clings tighter.

“Steve.”

“You can take every bit of me, sweet little bird.  I’ll reward you later,” terrified, you smack at the seats.  If screaming was an option, you’d be doing that.  Clawing at his legs, slapping him, just anything to get his attention.

“Steve!” Sam slams on the breaks, and turns around to glare at him.  “She can’t fucking breathe!” 

His heavy load spurts down your throat, before he lets you go, and you gasp for air through his sticky cream.  Your lungs burn almost as much as your throat, and you look up at him terrified.  “I wasn’t gonna kill you, sweet Dove.  You won’t die a virgin.  I want you on your knees, so I can stare at your cunt.”

“Why?” You tremble, wiping off the mess on your face.  Smeared saliva and cum spreads around your soft skin, and Steve wants nothing more than to paint your entire face with his seed.

“Because, I need to see how wet you are,” your head only shakes back and forth once, but it’s enough to annoy him.  “Get on your damn knees before I shove my fist in your cunt.”

Without readjusting your clothes, you get onto the seat on all fours.  Laying your head down as Steve lifts up your skirt.  “You're such a slut for me, Dovey.  Your legs are just as soaked as your pussy.  What is it that you want?” 

“I want you,” you whisper.  Biting on your thumb nail when you look at him. 

“Why?  I am your worst nightmare, am I not?” 

“Uh huh.  But…” your look towards Sam; he has his eyes back on the road.  Ignoring everything that is going on just inches behind him.  “I like being scared.”

“And that’s why you piss me off?” He spreads slick to your puckered hole before spitting down to your hole that has never seen any action.  “You piss me off because you enjoy being scared?” 

“What are you doing?” He is just staring at your muscled hole.  He is ready to devour you.  Sink into your truly virginal hole, and feel you clench around him in a different way.

“Making sure you’re scared.  Answer my question,” his thumb slips into your soaked channel before his finger teases around your asshole.  “Am I scaring you, Dovey?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“You know I will own all your holes right?” You squeak when his finger breaks the barrier of your tight channel.  Pushing yourself even more into him as his thumb and finger fuck into two holes.  “I will own you.  I will destroy you, and I’m getting fucking tired of your games.  Do you piss me off because you get off on the fear of what I’m going to do to you?” 

“Yes.  Yes, sir,” you sob.  Your body starts to rock into him while he just sits there.  Smirking at how much you are enjoying both holes being played with.  Taking his entire fingers and desiring more.  

“You like this?  You want a second finger in your ass?” 

“Uhh,” you hesitate, but Steve didn’t care.  A second finger breaches your walls, and you scream out his name.  There is a feeling of fullness that makes you want more.  You have no doubt that Steve is going to push you to your limits, but you wanted him to.  Wanted someone to make the decisions for you for a change.  

“You close, baby.  You right there?  I feel your pussy fluttering around me.”

“Yes!  Yes!”  It feels so good that it is blinding.  Euphoria starts to quickly drift through your body, and you know that your peak is just on the precipice.  Breathing unsteady, and desperate for more of Steve.  

“Good,” he growls, removing his fingers, denying you that sweet release.  “We’re here.”

“Uhh!” You slap on the seat of the car, and Steve smacks your ass.  “I didn’t get to come.”

“Oh, I know.  Go ahead, and run inside.  Wash your face off.  Get in the shower.  I’ve got a pretty little present for you to slip on.  Quit your fucking pouting.  You already came once.  You don’t need another.”

“Yes, I do!” Another swat to your ass, and you sit up, glaring at him.  Steve could be unusually cruel at times.  But refusing you to come is the worst.

“Once was plenty.  You need to learn to not be so fucking greedy.  Now, go wash up.  Your face is a fucking wreck.  And when you look in the mirror, you just remember that I was the one that made you that way.  Get out of the fucking car.  I’ll see you inside in a minute,” you puff out irritated, and crawl out of the car.  Like the cabin, it didn’t have neighbors.  But this time you aren’t scared.  You’re pissed.  

If Steve wanted you to beg, you wouldn’t.  Not now.  Now you want him to suffer.  You want him to want you just as much as you wanted him.  It was beyond desperation.  It is an obsession of needing him inside of you.

“Steve, this is a bad idea,” Sam warns his friend as Steve starts to get out.  Sam knew how Steve was.  But this is very different.  He was even scaring him, and Sam isn’t sure what Steve’s endgame is.  Was this his way of showing any true feelings? 

“It’s perfect.  If she wants to belong to me, it’s time for her to prove it,” there was no changing of Steve’s mind.  Tonight would be the night, and he’ll deal with the consequences of his actions later. 

“And this could be something that makes her retreat into herself.  You’re doing too much.”

“Go home to your wife and kids, Sam.  Dove will be fine.  She’ll love it.  And everyone will know exactly who she belongs to.  They will know whose cock stretches her open every fucking day.  It will happen.  And no one can stop it.”

Sam looks at Steve through the rear view mirror.  Nothing could change his mind when he was like this.  He just hoped that Steve wouldn’t later regret it.  “Does Bucky know?” 

“Bucky wants to go home to his fiancé every night.  What I do isn’t Bucky’s business unless he’s here.  He’s not here to stop me.  Dove is mine.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a girl to ruin,” you are his, and no one could stop him.  It was what had to be done.  And it will be done. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, trying to cover yourself up.  He had to be joking.  Steve is a menace, and he proved it daily, and this isn’t any difference.  You can hear the tv on, and even smell food being cooked, but you didn’t want to walk out of this bedroom.  Steve did remove your reason to think.  He did decide everything for you.  Down to this ridiculous outfit.  But sometimes you did want to, and this is one of those times.  Especially since you knew he was going to be fully covered. 

“Dovey!” He shouts from another part of the house, and you open the bedroom door, wrapping your arms around your chest.  “Dinner is ready, come on.”

“What is this?” Walking out into the house, you realize that you are alone with Steve.  No guards.  Just you and him.  “What do you have me wearing?” He turns to look at you.  His hungry eyes looking you up and down as he walks closer.  Spreading your arms out wide, he spins you around.  “Steve.”

“Oh, stop whining.  You think I haven’t seen your tits before,” just to drive home his point his hand smooths over the sheer lace that makes up your top.  Making your nipples pebble up with stimulation.  You are ‘covered’ but only in material.  The lace reveals every bit of your top.  The shorts at least are solid around your core.  

“You look beautiful,” he whispers behind your ear, and your arms relax, leaning more into him, his musky scent wafts up to your nose, and your body sets on fire.  Becoming more comfortable with his tiny little praise.  “And I like looking at what is mine,” ruined.  “Don’t cover yourself up.  Let’s eat.”

“Did you cook?” It seems like a silly question when you realize that there is no one else here.  It’s obvious that he cooked.  And even cleaned the kitchen up along the way.  The table is even set, but it’s for one.  His house is impeccably clean, and it’s something you should have expected with how particular he is.  

“Yeah, surprise, I don’t just sell drugs.  My tongue also can do more than lick your cunt,” giving you a wink, he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the table. 

“Where are you sitting?” 

“At the table, in a chair,” he looks at you with confusion painting his eyes.

“What about me?” 

A devilish smirk spreads across his face as he leads you into the dining area.  Sitting in his chair before rubbing his hand on his thigh.  “I’m a seat now, Dovey.  Come on, darling, let's get you fed, and we’ll watch a movie before bed.”

“We’re just…just going to sleep?  And I’m wearing this?” Why would he have you on display like this just to eat and get in the bed?  He wanted to make sure you gave him very little to his imagination.  He could see everything.  Keeping it cold in here, so your nipples are hard and poking through your top.  

“Well, what did you have in mind?” Steve guides you to sit in his lap, and he picks up a forkful of food, holding it up for you to take a bite.  “If you want something, little bird, you have to ask.”

“I thought — why am I wearing this?” 

“I like the view,” he’s being a bit too coy, and definitely too innocent at this moment.  There is more to his game, and you couldn’t figure it out.  Except for that question, are you ready to beg.  

“What if I want,” biting at your lip, you turn to look at him.  Running your hand up his chest before giving him a sweet peck on his lips.  “What if I want you?” 

“You have me.  Here I am,” he’s annoying, and knows exactly what you mean, but still he teases.  “And you need to eat, and drink plenty of water.”

“I’m ready to beg.”

“And yet, still you’re not.  Eat, Dovey.  This isn’t a discussion.  It’s what you will do, and then you’re going to let your stomach settle, while you continue to hydrate, and then maybe I’ll see if you’ll actually beg.  And you don’t have to say you’re ready to beg.  There’s other ways to ask that you want my fat cock in your sweet little pussy,” he takes a bite of food himself, grinning as he watches you try and figure out what to say.

“But you won’t let me say the F word.”

“Mmm, making love?  Having sex?  Taking your virginity?  Not everything has to be filthy fucking.  One day you’ll understand,” like Steve would ever do anything but fuck you like a filthy whore.  “Eat,” he gives you a smile, and his hand that’s behind you, slowly caresses your back.  

You shudder at how soft and tender it is.  Gulping as you take another bite from his fork.  He could be tender.  Loving almost.  Slick floods to your core with every soft touch that Steve gives you.  Tonight would be the night that you beg and give yourself completely to Steve Rogers. 

If this man can show this amount of softness, while still telling you what to do, he could have you.  Every part of you.  You would let him destroy and own you.

Steve looks down at you, snuggling up to his chest, and your hand rubs along the lowest part of his stomach.  It feels somewhat normal, although foreign.  As much as he tried to break you, there is still this soft innocence to you.  You reveled in his debauchery, and still craved this sickeningly sweet moment of watching a movie, and touching him.  Cuddling up against him.  

You are so relaxed, a leg was thrown over his lap.  You laugh at the appropriate times.  And fuck, when you look up at him seeing if he was paying attention, it drove him mad.  It isn’t sexual, but it’s intimate.  It’s something Steve has never felt.  Never had in possession, and you are giving it to him freely.

Sure, he’s fucked more women than he can count, but they were all disposable.  They never got past the sex before he was shoving them out of his bed.  You were showing him who he was before, and what he craved the most.  Refusing for far too long to try and get it because it made him soft.  

He stiffens underneath you, realizing that you were making him soft.  He didn’t mind keeping you with him, but this wasn’t sexual.  This seems normal.  Healthy.  And since when was Steve healthy or normal?  When did he allow himself to have this?  It was when he realized he didn’t want you hurt.

Working for your innocence made him want you that much more.  You wanted it, and feared it.  You need him and hate him.  You want to learn more, but not too fast.  You trusted him, and still had that tiny sliver of hesitance.  

You wiggle in closer to him, and he glances down, to see he’s petting you.  His hand literally moves up and down your back in comfort.  Keeping you warm, and you are wanting more.  This isn’t who he is.  He isn’t the boyfriend.  He’s the owner.  And yet you are controlling him just by being you.  He didn’t hate it.  But he fears it.  Fears your power over him.  

“Dovey?” 

“Mmm?” You sit up excitedly.  Your eyes are half lidded, and he can see the desire and lust in the deep pools of your pupils.  No wonder your hand slipped under his pants earlier.  You have the sweetest way of initiating sex. 

“What is it Steve?” Curiosity and nervousness laces your voice.  “Steve?  Sir?” Little minx, trying to entice him even more with that pet name.  Trying to switch into subspace.  If you wanted him, you had to prove it.  He cracks his neck, ready to get the long night started.  

“I want to try something with you, okay?” 

“Okay,” he pulls you onto his lap fully.  Your legs straddle him, and he forces you to grind on him.  Backwards and forwards, moaning with the feel of his throbbing bulge under you.  “Stevie?” He growls, gripping tighter to your ass.  Giving your jaw a little nip.  “I don’t like calling you sir.”

“Stevie is not very threatening.”

“So it’s just for me to fear you?” 

“Do you not?” He tilts his head to the side, searching your eyes.  His grip loosening, and your body is fully grinding on top of him.  You have settled your core closer to him, and he feels every bit of your warmth.  Cursing himself for not just making you walk around naked.  “Dovey, do I scare you?” 

“Sometimes,” you answer in earnest.  “I don’t know what parts of you scare me anymore.”

“Explain, and don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” there is something different about Steve right now.  You aren’t sure if he’s playing a game, or if he’s being sincere.  Maybe while his cock is being stimulated, you get to see the real him.

“I’m scared of you hurting me.”

“Physically or…?” 

“Physically, I enjoy it,” you shouldn’t.  It’s wrong, but you can’t help how the terror he gives you turns you on.  Makes you crave him more.  “You’re gonna leave me once I give you that part of me.”

“No.  I told you, Dovey, I want to own you.  Knowing that I am the only man that has ever corrupted you.”

“But that’s just my pussy.  What about my heart?”

This is not where he wanted this conversation to go.  He didn’t want to think about your emotions right now.  He couldn’t.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.  “You’re…what we have isn’t love, little bird.”

“But…it could be?” Steve responds with a shrug.  Things are getting too deep.  It was nearly time, and he couldn’t have things go in this order.  “I guess that’s good enough.”

“I promise no harm will come to you.  And I can promise that I will satisfy you in ways you’ve only ever dreamed of, but if you need me to be your Prince Charming, I’m sorry to disappoint you.  I’m no knight in shining armor.  I’m a drug lord with a short temper.”

“But you want me?” 

“No, darling,” he settles back into the couch, his hands go up your shirt, and he fondles your breasts.  Deep laboring breaths while he stares up at you, “I need you.  Not having you isn’t an option.  Call me, Captain.”

“Captain,” you whimper, circling your hips so hard over him.  He moans.  Squeaking out your name, and heat bursts onto your core.  “Steve?” 

“Don’t stop calling me Captain, until I’m finished with you.  Yes, your filthy little show made me come in my pants.  I won’t be fucking you right now,” your lip trembles as he stands up.  Holding onto you when he walks you into an almost empty room.  A massage table set up with some form of contraption you didn’t recognize, and in the middle of the floor lays a long mirror.  

He stands you up on the floor, and tugs at your shorts.  Holding your hand for you to step out of them before removing your shirt.  “Down on your knees, and straddle the mirror,” you stare at him for a moment, but when he snaps his fingers you do as he says.

“I need you to understand your body, Dovey.  I’m going to have some fun with your cunt, and you’re going to watch it.  Stop whining.  You see that tight little hole in between your legs has got me in a chokehold.  I can’t think properly when I’m around you, and you’re not begging,” he gets down to his knees, and his hand goes in between your legs.  Spreading out your lips so you can see the innocence that he wants to own.

“Don’t take your eyes off your cunt, okay?” 

“It’s yours, Captain,” Steve moans as his hand flows down to your entrance, smiling at your reflection before he pushes in three fingers.  You may sniffle, but you keep looking.  Watching the way he stretches you out.  How simple motions make your arousal drip down onto your reflection.

“You were made for me, Dovey,” he moans, his motions going faster.  “You’re so reactive for me.  You want me?” 

“I need you,” you mewl, and he drives in harder.  Deeper.  Curling his fingers to hit that magical spot.  Pressure tightens up in your core, and you can’t hold on any longer.  Your pussy gushes out below you.  “I need you, Captain!  Captain!” No amount of screaming was making him fuck you.  Only his hand.  Forever his hand.  

“I need more!” Steve pounds harder, and your body heats up.  Sweat beads around your face, and you start dipping lower.  Legs going weak.  “I need more, Captain!” 

Reaching into his pocket, you start crawling away.  “No!  Steve, don’t!”

“Shh, Dovey, you wanted more,” Steve hums, holding tight to your leg.  Pulling out his gun, he runs the cold metal around your backside.  “Stay very still.”

“Is it loaded?” 

“Do you think I’d have an unloaded gun in my pocket?” You hold yourself still as he drags the piece through your folds.  “Tonight, you’re going to prove just how fucking loyal you are to me,” you would prove it.  You would make him proud.  “And if you didn’t like it why are you so wet?” He grunts, the tip rubbing your clit.  He pulls the pistol away from you, and your sticky honey creates strings of slick to the tool.

Slowly he eases the gun back to your center, pulling it back to your entrance.  “Count to three.”

“One,” Steve bites his lip, watching your reflection.  You are terrified, and still submitting to his sick fantasy.  Willing to do whatever he wanted to prove you are worthy to be his girl.  

“Two,” without warning he pushes the gun inside you, and you let out the most surreal moan.  Your velvety walls stretch around the piece, and you cry out at the intrusion. “Aww, look at you.  You can see where it is inside of you.  You see it?” 

You couldn’t miss the bulging line up your belly.  Why did this feel good?  Why did you want him to go harder?  “I’m gonna be deeper,” his hand traces the bulge, going up further before pressing up against your belly, “I’m gonna be right here.  Rearranging your fucking insides.”

“Captain!  I need you!  I’m begging!  Please, please!  I wanna feel you!” Steve fully settles himself behind you.  Keeping a hand on his gun, but positions his crotch right at the handle.  “Captain!” 

“Fuck yourself.  Pretend it’s me.  How are you going to handle me, Dovey?” You start rocking yourself back onto him.  Taking the gun even deeper, “Keep watching.  Don’t stop.”

Pushing yourself back into him, you can almost envision that you are taking him.  Having him.  All of him.  But he’s going to be deeper.  Settled so deep into you that you feel pressure in your belly.  “Good fucking girl.  There ya go.  You like that?  You like fucking my gun?” 

“Yeah.  Yes,” you start panting out.  “I need you.”

“You have me.”

“All of you.  All!” You push back harder, smiling when you spill even more onto the mirror.  Each movement makes Steve more feral and needy for you.  “All of!” It shouldn’t feel this good.  You had taken all of his gun, but it still wasn’t deep enough.  Even though your toes are curling, and you feel the ultimate high of release, you wanted him.

“All of you!  Captain!  Captain!” 

“Fuck yeah,” he moans, watching your cream coat his gun.  “Tell me, you’ll do anything for me.”

“Anything, I just want you!” Dropping his gun on the mirror, he stands up.  Picking you up off the floor, he walks over to the bed.  You had hoped you’d be in Steve’s giant bed for the first time, but maybe he didn’t want the mess.  

Laying you down, he crawls over your body.  Locking your arms down by your side with his thighs.  Straddling you in a way to trap you.  “Dovey, this is going to hurt.”

“What are you doing?” His hand turns your head to the side, and he kisses a spot between your neck and collarbone.  His tongue paints circles over the sensitive area, and you allow him to hold you even tighter.

“If you hold still, it’ll go faster.  Loki!  She’s ready.”

“Steve?” A tall man walks into the room, and flips on the machine.  Sitting on a stool, he scoots closer.  “Steve!” 

“You got her?  The tattoo will be raised if I go too deep,” what?  Tattoo?  Steve holds tighter to your head, cooing down at you.  “Well, ain’t that sweet?  Buttering her up before you make her wear your mark permanently.”

“Don’t!  Please, Steve, don’t!” Even though you kick your legs, your upper body doesn’t move.  Not with Steve’s weight keeping you in place.  Tiring yourself out, but you didn’t know what else to do, but to fight.  “Please!” 

“You said anything, Dovey.  Go on.  I’ve got her.  It’s happening whether you like it or not.  Hold fucking still, Dovey.  Prove you’re mine, and I will give you the fucking world.  Loki!” The hum of the tattoo gun starts, and you scream out when the needle pierces your skin.  Marking you up for all to see.  Claiming you as Steve’s once and for all.  You didn’t mean this.  He was going to get to walk away, but you were forever going to be seen as his property.

Screaming, crying, grunting.  Nothing could have ever prepared you for this pain, and the physical pain didn’t feel as bad as the deep betrayal you feel.  The fear is no longer sexy like before.  It is you completely giving yourself up to him.  Like you were never going to see another light of day without his permission.  

Your screams turn into sobs of agony as Loki shades in your tattoo.  You didn’t ask for this.  Didn’t ask for him.  He forced his way into your life, and all you wanted was to stay awake to study.  “You’re almost finished, darling.”

You didn’t care.  No soothing words could ever make up for this.  “There, there,” he sighs, watching Loki clean you up, and cover the tattoo.  He leans down to kiss up your tear stained cheeks.

“Let me go,” you say calmly.  “I don’t want to look at you.”

“Dovey, this is what you agreed to.”

“You didn’t give me a choice!  Ever.  I can’t look at you, Steve.  Let me go.  Let.  Me.  Go.  Let me go!  Let me go!” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls, but you start flailing around.  “You belong to me.  Go in the bedroom, and pitch your fit.  You’ll understand once the adrenaline has worn off.”

“I am naked, and tired, and I’m in pain!  And you think I’m pitching a fit?  Let me go, please!” All it takes is that word, and Steve crawls off you.  Standing in front of Loki while you dash to the bedroom.  Slamming the door shut, and locking it.  You spot his phone, and run to it.  He would have his number.  And he would pay.

Bucky bursts through the door of Steve’s house, and marches right to Steve who is sitting in a sofa chair, watching your door.  Lifting him up by the collar, he throws him up against a wall, and Steve chuckles.  “You fucking marked her?” 

“She’s mine.  Now everyone knows.”

“You put a permanent mark on her skin, and you fucked her with a gun?  What the hell is wrong with you Steve?  That girl is willing to give everything to you, no questions asked, and…”

“She did!  She told me anything, so it was my right to show her and everyone else who she fucking belongs to.  She is mine, and I can do whatever the hell I please with her.  Look at it,” he flicks his head towards a table, but Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off him.

“Her cum is dried on my gun.  She came on my gun.  She loved it, and watched every disgusting second of it.”

“You used her in a vulnerable state!  You…”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with her.  She is mine!” Steve doesn’t have to try and fight back.  He lets Bucky think he has this moment.  For now.  

“Yeah?  And where is she, Steven?” Bucky flattens his forewarn against Steve’s neck, laughing.  “You have her, and she’s so terrified of you that she locked you out.  Used your phone to call me.  You sick fucking bastard!  She was right there, willing to give you everything.  She lets you use her and lets others watch you do it.  But this is too fucking far.  I can’t…”

“Then quit,” Bucky’s weight shifts slightly, and Steve pushes him off.  “No one wants you here.  All you care about is your basket case,” Steve’s head slings to the side, and he rubs his cheek where Bucky backhanded him.  The metallic taste of his blood fills his mouth, and he grits his teeth as he turns back to look at Bucky.

“Don’t talk about my fiancé like that!”

“I no longer want you watching Dove.  I’ll have Loki assigned to her, or she’ll be with me.  Your services are no longer needed.  Whatever is left at the club belongs to me.  You wanted your life with your neurotic freak show, have at it.  Don’t come near me or mine ever again.”

“You’re gonna regret this, Steve.  You just remember who was loyal to you.  And you know what?  Fuck you,” spinning on his heels, Bucky stomps back outside, flipping Steve’s house off for good measure before he goes home.  Where he belongs.

Steve wipes at his mouth before turning towards the door, giving your current room a knock, “Dovey?” 

“Go away, Steve.”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever.  You eventually have to eat.”

“I’d rather starve than to see you again,” you hug your legs up against your chest, letting your tears paint the pillows with smeared mascara.  It was the first time Steve would ever put this amount of fear on you.  He would never get the chance ever again.

“Fine.  Die a fucking virgin.  You’ll come out though.  And I’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t care.  He could wait forever.  Let his empire crumble.  You would never look at Steve Rogers ever again.  You’d never forgive him.  Never ever. 

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @softherveauxs @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhore4more 

[528-hotline]

ignoring safe words with matthew 🤭🤭 just asadcssf

also can i be 🍓 anon of its free?

ignoring safe words. with matthew !

warnings | dubcon, rough sex, watersports, squirting, piss, dumbification, dacryphilia, overstimulation, choking, creampie, ignoring safe words … literal filth :3

word count | 700+

a/n 💌 oh my… well you came to the right person 🫨 yes you can be 🍓anon !! i hope this isn’t too much for you cuz i’m definitely not a sane seokryu… hehe the writing in here is not due to self indulgence, really…. (lies!!) after he kept on posting hot shit even if i was gone here, i think this drabble made it clear that i’m NAWT okay. 😁 my thoughts will stop here i’m sorry hehe (^^) i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

DARK CONTENT ahead ! read with caution (18+ only)

“look at you, my dumb pretty baby… all pathetic and stupid over my cock…”

you were all sprawled on matthew’s bed, legs hanging on his shoulders, thighs quivering from sensitivity and overstimulation. it’s already the fourth round and matthew doesn’t have intentions to stop at any second. the longer he rams into your pussy, the pleasure slowly turned into pain overtime.

“m-matt, red! red! please!” you close your thighs from the overwhelming and mixed sensations you have been feeling throughout as you try to push away his pelvis away.

“nonono baby… open your goddamn thighs…your stupid pussy wanted this, right?” he coos at you as his strong arms pries away your thighs, spreading you apart, having a complete view of your cum-drenched pussy from earlier. the sight added more fuel to the flame as he carries your thighs, bringing it to his arms, his thrusts going deeper and faster. “your pussy feels so good, can’t get enough…”

“red, matthew! please, red! ‘m gonna pee, please l-let me!” you yelped, looking away from matthew as you cried in tears, fighting the pain away as he continuously pounds your poor, overstimulated pussy.

he lets go of your thighs just to grab your jaw with one of his hands, looking at your puffy eyes, eyes all reddened from crying. as his other hand lands on your clit, pinching and rubbing the slippery, reddened bud between the pad of his calloused fingers.

you squealed at the action, pain and pleasure hiking up at the same time, making you cry out loud as tears fall down your flushed cheeks. matthew licks one of your tears away with his tongue, he then chuckled evilishly from your response. you were scared and aroused at the same time. “look at me… i’m gonna fuck this pussy till you’re too dumb to even walk, you’ll like that, right? yes, of course you fucking do…” his hand travels down to your shoulder, pushing you back into the sheets agressively and proceeds on choking your neck.

“nonono, red! please– matt, it hurts! p-please! wanna– shit!” your voice almost strained as you tried to speak before you were all out of breath. speechless, you were only able to let out soft cries, thighs shaking uncontrollably from holding your bladder and the pleasure from matthew repeatedly hammering your pussy with his cock and playing with your clit. his actions made you weaker than ever, succumbing under his control, realizing that resisting was no use because he’s too strong. comparing matthew to you, you were already used up like a ragged doll.

“your dumb pussy wants a release, hm? gonna give you what you want, yeah? you fucking cockslut…” he coos at you, shaking your head in response even if you knew it was no use on stopping him. matthew lets go of your neck and your clit, pulling your thighs even closer his cock, sinking even deeper. he knew he reached your sweet spot when you gasped and by arching your back. he smirked to himself, as he decides to thrust in to that certain spot continuously, thrusting into you in an animalistic pace. a high pitched moan came out of your mouth as you grab on to the sheets, your knuckles turning into white. your bladder was already holding on to a thread and a knot in your stomach snapped when matthew did one last sharp thrust out of you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—! agh!” you gasped out, your back arched, your eyes rolling back, reaching your high once again. jets of piss landed all over his abs and torso as your hips quiver from releasing both your cum and piss all over him. you felt numb all over and your brain all scrambled up from the feeling of pain and pleasure altogether. matthew throws his head back, groaning, feeling his warm cum shooting inside your walls. he finally pulls out his cock, his cum flowing out of your pussy, as both of your liquids mixed, seeping into the drenched sheets.

“that’s it… piss all over me baby…” your warm piss still flowing out uncontrollably while he slaps and run his cock all over your poor pussy until you’re all emptied out.

“ngh… no more, please…!” you hiccuped, all empty and passed out. matthew hovers your spasming body, trying to recover from the overstimulation that he has caused, giving your neck with peppery kisses.

“i hear you baby, but expect to be wrecked like this all over again.”

[impishjesters]

First-time jitters (NSFW-ish)

warning(s): kissing, hickeys, suggestive themes, implied lead-up to sex, sexual jokes note(s): Naked twister kind of joke, not anything in a typical Jax insulting joke form. A/N: I actually really liked writing this, it gave me a chance to write just kissing and while I still suck at it, it was something. Plus I can totally see Jax cracking jokes to keep his s/o from being so tense and nervous. Happy that this didn't push me out of my comfort zone, even if it did make me feel weird about writing kisses. I'm not experienced in that department either. request: Hey I was wondering if you could write a very slight NSFW of Jax and the Reader? Maybe this is the reader’s first time and is nervous about it?

“I’ve uh, never done this before…” You mutter nervously, hands playing with the hem of your shirt.

“What sat on a bed with a man?” Jax snorts.

“Ass, you know that’s not—”

“Oh, you’ve never played naked twister? It’s a little slippery I’ll admit.”

“Jax…”

“See you’re already doing a great job, ya already got saying my name down. Though I’d like to hear it a bit louder and more desperately, maybe a tad more breathy.”

You cross your arms in irritation and embarrassment, this was not how you were going to spend your first time if he kept being a little shit lord and keep cracking jokes. You loved him and tolerated enough of this outside of the bedroom, it wasn’t exactly something you were expecting during such an intimate moment.

As if sensing your thoughts Jax took a seat on the bed and leaned closer, placing a hand on each side of you on the bed. “Oh c’mon angel, I’m trying to ease the tension. Ya more wound up than a music box, if ya this tense it’ll hurt. And we don’t want that.”

Jax wasn’t stupid, he could tell you weren’t ready when the topic was officially brought up and told you he was fine waiting. Blue ballin’ sucked but he’d endure it until you were ready—which was tonight, if you were still up for it.

He caught you chewing on your bottom lip and raised a hand to tap at your lips to get you to quit. “Ya know I won’t do anything to hurt you, especially if ya aren’t into it.” You giggle faintly and he slips his fingers over to pinch your cheek. “There we go, loosen up and I’ll help loosen you up so it won’t hurt. Trust me.”

“That’s pretty bold of you to ask me to trust you of all people.” You tease. However, there is reassurance in the tender touch and his tone that has you relaxing more and more into his touch.

Jax rolls his eyes playfully, giving your cheek another pinch before moving the hand back to the bed. “And ya pretty dumb to trust me of all people.” he pokes back.

It’s all in good fun, it’s not typically how he’d treat someone in bed but you aren’t just any random shmuck in his bed. Plus it’s your first time and he’d rather not make it an unpleasant experience, he would like to get laid more than once after all.

Before you can respond he gives you a quick kiss, shifting to get more comfortable on the bed with you but not making any attempts to undress either of you. “We’ll go slow, ain’t gotta get naked right from the start—though I won’t complain if you wanna strip.” His brows waggle suggestively but his tone is far from it.

“Can we just kiss for now?” Kissing isn’t new and it feels like a nice start to everything, you don’t want to back out now but you aren’t going to just force your way straight into sex.

“Sure doll.”

Jax is surprisingly careful with his kisses, each kiss is sweet yet firm until you find yourself getting impatient at the little pecks and run your tongue along his bottom lip. Working around his teeth takes a few minutes but in no time the kisses grow more heated and full of tongue.

The distance between the two of you gradually closes, Jax sits with his legs loosely crossed creating the perfect little spot in the middle for you. He drapes your thighs over his and tugs you closer to create just the right amount of space between the two of you, mainly so he doesn’t have to keep breaking his back to lean in.

Your hands find purchase around his neck while his hands find home on your lower back. It’s no different than the usual make-out session except this will actually lead to more than just the two of you separating and having to wind down or take care of things separately.

Jax is the first to break away, leaving you panting. You’re such a flustered, red mess and he’s soaking up every little noise and expression on your face. Diving back in he dodges your lips much to your confusion and instead aims for your neck. You tilt your head to give him better access and he peppers the area with kisses and the occasional nibble.

He pulls back after a bit, satisfied to see your neck littered with his marks, and gently guides your head to tilt the other way, giving the same attention to the unmarked side. There’s no way someone won’t say something later, the marks are too obvious and most definitely won’t be covered by your clothes—you’ll have to think of an excuse later.

Eventually, he has to pull away and admire his handiwork again, that smug expression on his face per usual, except the reason is different this time, more genuine. “What a pretty necklace ya got there doll, who bought it for ya?”

Necklace? You weren’t wearing any—oh the hickeys. “Jaaax..” That’s so painfully cheesy that you can’t help but whine and giggle.

“Your damn right I did. Looks so good on ya too.”

He runs his fingers over the fresh marks and you can’t help but shudder at the sensitivity. You don’t remember them normally being that sensitive, but you also don’t remember him ever leaving that many in one sitting. Something tells you those won’t be the only hickeys you’ll end up with.

Your eyes fall on his own neck, bare as ever, and find yourself feeling a little mischievous. “How about we give you a matching one?”

Jax’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if to help give you a better position before his hands knead into your hips. “Oh sugar, I’d be more than happy to be sportin’ a matching necklace with you.”

[sserasin]

shower sex with yeonjun!!!

😵‍💫 shut up im just imaging yeonjun all wet bye i need txt at waterbomb pronto

can go 2 different ways!! shower sex is a Must like it just makes him feel soo much closer to you, and he’s busy helping you wash your hair, rinse it out, etc. it always starts off innocent and then he gets to washing your body. his big hands cup your breasts gently, soapy suds covering them completely. he massages them, innocently claiming that “i’m just helping you out, baby,” but neither of you ever wash yourselves like that. and then he takes a step forward, naked body pressed against your back— and you can feel everything. “will you help me wash, too?” breath hitting your ear and making you shiver. of course, it’s only polite to help him wash, too. no ulterior motives :o still claims he’s helping you clean even when he’s fucking you open on his fingers??? boy who do you think youre fooling…

the other way .. :D it always after multiple rounds of intense sex, yeonjun would be carrying you to the bathroom (if he had it his way, anyway), saying you can sleep after a shower. but of course, you’re not stupid and you know damn well he’s gonna fuck you into passing out for the rest of the night. he’s literally insatiable, making you come five times is not enough for him, apparently. doesn’t even bother continuing holding up a front, immediately pulling you into a kiss directly under the stream. it’s a wonder how neither of you have slipped yet, with him practically holding you up against the shower wall, water slipping between your bodies and making the floor slippery. definitely teases you by not giving you his cock and holding the shower head against your clit. it takes one almost slip for him to knock it off and finally give you what you want <3

[hanggarae]

happy birthday jeonghan !

ONE TIME FOR THE BIRTHDAY BITCH 🗣️🔥 jeonghan x gn!reader fluff 0.9k words

“hannie just tell me what you want for your birthday” you whined on call for your boyfriend, getting louder when all he did was giggle instead of answering your question.

“baby you should be able to work out what i want on your own” jeonghan teased from the other line. “besides even if you can’t, i’d love anything you give me”

you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. jeonghan’s birthday was in less than a week and you still had no clue what to get him.

you could get him a lego set or more calico critters- but he somehow managed to have every set available.

“yn..” jeonghan said quietly over the phone, “if it makes you feel any better you’ll have an extra two weeks to shop anyway, we won’t be back until the 18th”

you pouted at his words. how the hell would that make you feel better? now you didn’t know what to get your boyfriend and you remembered you can’t see him for almost three weeks.

“no! i’ll have your gift by your actual birthday”

you heard jeonghan stifle a yawn and laugh, he and the rest of the guys were probably tired. you both said your goodbyes to each other and he promised to call tomorrow morning.

while you rested your head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling, you thought about what to get him again. shopping for him really wasn’t easy.

you unlocked your phone again, fingers automatically opening the notes page you had for brainstorming potential gift ideas.

“happy birthday!” the loud cheers from his members flooded jeonghan’s ears making him smile. it had just turned midnight and they were already at it.

truth be told he didn’t care about birthdays all that much- at least not it’s customs anyway. he didn’t really mind if people didn’t call him immediately at 12am to wish him a happy birthday, he didn’t care much about a cake or gifts- he just enjoyed that it gave him an excuse to feel loved by the people surrounding him without having to be shy about it.

so when you asked him what he wanted for his birthday, it’s not like he wasn’t answering you on purpose, it’s just that he genuinely didn’t know what he wanted from you, he just wanted you.

but he’d still have to wait three weeks for that. he was still in europe and you were halfway across the world from him, living in the shared apartment in seoul.

it would’ve been early morning for you, meaning you most likely weren’t up. so he didn’t bother checking his phone for a message from you.

meanwhile, you were arguing with one of the airport staffs about your lost luggage. it had jeonghan’s gift that you bought but weren’t sure about giving him because it was a little lackluster.

“you know what just leave it. it’s fine” you sighed out exasperated, deciding to just head to the hotel jeonghan was staying at instead.

you called for a taxi but somehow none were available. you checked on the gps app and it luckily wasn’t too far of a walk from the airport.

jeonghan usually slept late, so if you hurried you’d make it before he went to bed. the rain would be a problem though. you surveyed it for a few seconds before heading back to one of the airport shops, hoping to find an umbrella.

“stupid cheap airport umbrella” you muttered as the umbrella barely kept shape against the winds, leaving you mostly soaked despite your best efforts to get it to stick to its original shape.

your phone ringing caught you by surprise and you fished it out of your pocket but the rain had made your hand to slippery causing you to drop it, luckily it didn’t break but it left a crack meaning you’d have to replace your screen protector.

you answered the call, it was mingyu.

“i’m like ten minutes away, make sure he doesn’t go to bed!” you shouted over the rain. mingyu didn’t talk for long, telling you okay before he went to bother jeonghan again.

after a few more minutes, you were completely soaked, you cringed at how your wet clothes sticking to your figure and the sound your shoes would make every time you took a step.

you checked into the hotel, your room being on the same room as the guys’ so you could trade with whoever jeonghan was currently rooming with.

you checked mingyu’s text and made sure you were standing in front of the right room before knocking.

behind the door you could hear the guys all asking jeonghan to open the door because they all couldn’t be bothered, and you smiled at the tired sigh your boyfriend let out when he got closer to the door.

you opened your arms, ready to shout ‘happy birthday’ to your boyfriend only for him to interrupt you by saying “yn? what are you doing here? and why are you- get inside quick you’re gonna catch a cold!”

he beckoned everyone else out and into their own rooms then ran to his suitcase to get you one of his shirts. “quickly dry off then get changed and throw these to the laundry” jeonghan said hastily, already helping you get your long coat off.

you smiled at him, giggling when he looked at you confused. “happy birthday hannie” you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“thank you baby” he returned your kiss with one on your lips instead, “but seriously get under those blankets unless you want to spend my entire birthday sick”

[honeyshiddendesire]

Pet Name Headcanon List

Vinsmoke Bros x female reader- Mommy

Warnings: brat taming the brothers, face slapping, chained up bros, degradation kink, pussy eating, orgasm denial/control, dominatrix reader!! Vaginal penetration, dick riding, jealous brothers, muzzled Niji, pussy eating/ slight cum eating, handjob, rough bondage session!

*reader is Sanji’s bestie* @acatamathesia hope you like it 🫣🫣🫣

*banner*

“Fuck! Fuck t-that’s enough!” Your red haired Ichiji shouted brokenly as you squeezed his hard cock making him hiss, head falling back against the headboard. He was squished shoulder to shoulder, bound in chains along with his other brothers Yonji and Niji, Niji having a muzzle on his face from all his earlier back talk. 

“I’m sorry little red~ I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

Slap!

The harsh smack makes him gasp and eyes widen in shock, Yonji whimpering from the display. Ichiji breathing heavily as he turned his eyes to look at your seductive grin, your other hand slowly caressing up his leg that was also bound. “P-please m-mommy that’s enough.” His voice a cute quiet mumble as his eyes look down at  your tits making you chuckle as you finally start to stroke his cock making him moan. 

“Mommy~?” You hear your cutie Yonji call you, making you look at his flustered pouting expression, always such a jealous baby whenever waiting for his turn that you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Yes~?” You coo to him, making him squirm, his cock leaking at your intense gaze. “Please mommy I-I’ve been really good can you…can you touch me too?”

You put a finger to your chin in dramatic thought as your hand on Ichiji’s cock speeds up making the man moan louder, hips stuttering in your grasp. “Hmm? Let me think…you have been nice and quiet, waiting ever so patiently today. I could give you a special treat if you’d like.” Your words make Ichiji gasp, his head snapping back up to glare at your face. “T-that’s not fair!” He shouts as you notice Niji squirming in frustration in his chains, jaw tight with anger at the offer you gave their youngest brother instead of them. 

Putting your hand up your choke Ichiji, pinning him further back into the headboard, hissing your response at him, “Don’t you dare tell mommy what is and isn’t fair! Both you and Niji have been nothing but disobedient all day and frankly~ mommy’s tired of it. So if I give sweet little Yonji my special treat then you both sit there and just watch. Understood!”

Your power over them quickly drained them of any response other than a simple, “Understood mommy.”

That made you smile pretty as you leaned down to place a kiss on the head of Ichiji’s aching red cock, moaning as you licked a long stripe from base to tip. He almost exploded just from that but you pulled away too fast making him whine low in his throat but you only winked at him. “Told ya to listen better babe.”

Moving over to Yonji you climbed on top making his face break out in a wide smile. “Oh fuckfuckfuck yes please mommy can’t wait.” Yonji rambles and you just caress his face, his head tilting into your palm kissing it softly as his eyes gaze at you lovingly. 

“My sweet sweet boy~ getting all excited for mommy’s pretty pussy to sit on your pathetic cock huh?” Your words said with a little pout as you grind your slippery folds along his leaking cock, the head red with longing and excitement. His head nodding quickly as he continues to ramble, knowing if he back talked instead of obeying the opportunity would quickly be taken away from him.

"Fuck yes mommy, so pathetic! Please! Please won’t you sit on my stupid cock just a bit! Please mommy~” Yonji’s perfect whines making you smile as you lean in giving him a deep kiss that make his eyes roll back and hips stutter against your slippery folds that would soon swallow up his cock. Pulling away you look at his two brothers with a sassy smirk, “See this boys~ this is how you’re supposed to talk to mommy if you want a special treat too. No need to have so much pride when I can make you feel good.” 

Grabbing Yonji’s poor aching cock you quickly sit making him practically scream at the sudden drop of your pussy on his dick, “FUCK! Yes! Shit mommy fuck! Oh fuck you’re so tight! So so perfect~” His rambling always reminded you of your friend Sanji and you just laughed. If only your friend could see how pathetic his brothers truly were then he’d have nothing to fear. As you bounced your cunt on Yonji’s cock you wondered if next time you should bring your friend, Sanji in here to join in on the degradation of his silly older brothers. 

“Ah! M-mommy you feel so good! Looks so pretty!” Yonji whimpered out and you only laughed in a breathy tone that made him twitch, he loved seeing you all happy while his brothers always acted up more than him. Loved all of your attention for himself instead of them, their grunts and scowls only making him harder knowing he got to have your pussy first again. They usually always acted up more than him, resulting in you having to teach them a lesson. 

“Mommy?” Niji mumbled into the muzzle quietly, making you raise a brow as you looked at him, his face as red as his brother’s hair. “Hmm?” You hum in question and he swallows hard as he squirms in the bed, his cock bobbing from the movement making your eyes glance down to see it leaking all over him. “Awe what’s the matter Niji? Finally ready to be a good boy for mommy?” You ask and see him nod slowly looking at you shyly which made you laugh at his timid expression. “Sure but you have to wait just a little~ bit longer. Think you could do that for me?” 

Niji nodded his head quickly as he looked you up and down, your body bouncing on top of his stupid spoiled green haired brother that he wanted to punch so bad right now. “Yes mommy.” Niji whispered and you only smiled as you reached out to pet his head like the silly muzzled puppy he was to you. “That’s my good puppy. How about you, Ichiji? Gonna be good for me then I can touch you. Or do I have to slap you again to get it through that thick of yours?” 

“No…I-I’ll be good.” He mumbles as he watches your tits bounce, ignoring the annoying sounds that came from his spoiled little brother. “Promise~” You tease as you slowly grind on Yonji making him hiss and whine, your hands going up to squeeze your breasts which captivates Ichiji as he nods. “Y-yeah…yeah mommy, promise.” 

“Good~” 

Now that they all agreed to listen you focused on your green boy, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you bounced on his cock faster, chains rattling from the force of it all. “Oh fuck~ mommy your pussy feels so fucking good~” Yonji’s chest was practically heaving as he tried to stay still, knowing that moving his hips even the slightest would result in his punishment. Something he always tried to avoid.

“Mommy! Mommy fuck me~shit that feels so good! I wanna cum~ please~ please mommy lemme cum~ Fuck mommy your pussy’s so pretty! Too pretty for my stupid cock b-but please~ please lemme cum!” He begs turning his head to nuzzle into your hand that caresses his cheek. “Nope!” You laugh at his pout face, you were always so cruel no matter how well he listened but you just couldn’t help it sometimes. You had to make them pay somehow for how they treated your best friend. “Think mommy wants you to suffer just a bit more baby boy.”

Yonji felt his body heat up and eyes water, body trembling underneath you as you slowly dragged your nails down his chest making him curse loudly. He loved your pretty nails touching him all over, the feeling driving him insane as his head fell back, legs shaking with need and desire. “Mommy! Fuck!” Yonji whines as you remove your nails, your arms stretching to grab a hold of Ichiji that was in the middle. “Go ahead pretty boy~ wanna cum in my pussy?” You ask and Yonji’s eyes almost pop out of his skull with how fast he looked at you. 

“Yes! Oh fuck yes! Mommy thank you thank you! F-fuck Ahh~ nngh shit! Shit yes~ oh fuck mommy~” Yonji your little rambler just babbled away as his hips pushed up and his cock spilled inside of you. Your hips were still bouncing, making him shake even more with overstimulation until he whimpered and begged for you to stop. 

Smiling as you finally climbed off the green one who was breathing heavily, body trembling as he watched with half lidded eyes you go over between his two elder brothers. “So much patience~ Think you both deserve a treat.” You smile as you undo Niji’s muzzle and pull him down the bed by his chains making him grunt as he hit his head on the headboard a bit making you giggle out an, “Oops.” 

You climb over his face, his brother’s cum dripping on him making him groan a bit before you silenced his protest with your pussy against his mouth. Niji moaning at finally getting some sort of treat from you. Leaning forward you wrapped your lips around Ichiji making him practically howl with pleasure, chest arching in ecstasy at the way your tongue swirled around the base. Taking his cock all the way to the base as your other hand grabbed his balls, sucking his cock like a pro until he finally was rambling just like his younger brother. 

“Oh! F-fuck mommy~yes yes yes! Shit that’s it mommy fuck you’re so good to us! So so good to us! Fuck yes! Shit I think I might c-cum already! Please I’ll be good f-from now on! Please, I promise! I-I won’t be a brat ever again -ah! - if you just let me cum! Mommy please~” Ichiji was so lost in pleasure he barely registered what he was saying and you only moaned as you bobbed your head faster and deeper on his cock. Your free hands reaching up to scratch down his chest making him whine, “Please mommy~” Looking up at Ichiji’s teary eyes you winked at him and he knew what that meant.

“Fuck! Mommy thank you thank you! Fuck I-I love you so much!” Ichiji moans as he cums deep down your throat, moaning as you swallow every last drop. 

Niji licking your folds and sucking on your clit like a wild man only moaned as he heard his brother cumming down your throat, his cock twitching before spraying on your ass and himself. Pulling off of Ichiji you just sighed at Niji’s disobedience, pulling his hair as you sat on his chest. “Oh Niji ~Always the trouble maker huh?”

“Sorry mommy~”

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Idk if you’re taking requests, but if you are could you do one where dads friend Nat accidentally gets R pregnant?

(Un)pleasant surprise

Paring: Innocent!reader × dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT (minor), Angst, hurt comfort?, a bit of fluff at the end, open ending, age gap (legal), g!p Nat, unprotected sex, mean Nat,

Word count: 1.3k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist Part 2

ꕀꕀ ──�� ⋆⋅ ✨🌞✨ ⋅⋆─── ꕀꕀ

“Ngh~ Fuck~ Natty” you managed to moan out as Natashas hips kept slamming against your buttocks filling the room with the sound of your wet skin slapping against each other. I could make out some distinct groans from Natasha she was holding her release back as best as she could. “Fuck no matter how many times I fill your slutty hole up your still tight” she groaned I could only nod my head hidden away in the soft pillowcase in front of me. Her grip on my hips was hard I’m sure it left bruises one hand kept me in place as the other one sneaked around to my core finding my neglected clit without a problem. Her fingers rubbed tight circles on my slippery clit as she kept on pounding me from the back making me arch my back with a desperate cry.

“You’re such a slut letting me play with your stupid cunny” she groaned her past fastened as she hit that special spot inside of me no body else could reach. “Natty I’m gonna cum” you managed to whine out. “Fuck baby cum~ Ngh~ cum with me” She moaned out her thigh muscles tightening as she released with me. Hot cum shooting inside of my womb. Natasha was never a big fan of condoms she said it would destroy the feeling of my walls. At the beginning she still pulled out but it didn’t take a week her to get me on birth control. She had mentioned multiple times that having a child just isn’t in her live plans. Even though it hurt you greatly this was only a summer fling for the older woman. “You did so good my bunny” she whisper in my ear smoothing over the reddened skin of my buttocks.

~

It’s been 3 weeks since that night most of the following looked similar. Natasha sneaking into my room and fucking me into the mattress but somehow after the high was over it left me more empty then to begin with. Knowing that I wasn’t more than a fling to the redhead hurt more than it should’ve. After she finished inside of you and cleaned you up you wished she’d stay the whole night and not just a few moments. You woke up to empty bed the spot behind you were Natasha had laid last night was cold. Her body warmth long forgotten. You did your normal morning routine with a dad feeling in the deep pits of your stomach. Your period was now a week overdue nothing unusual you thought. It happened before countless times but back then you didn’t have someone breed you very night.

The way to the drugstore felt painfully long. You didn’t tell Natasha about your suspicion being too afraid of her reaction. To be honest you didn’t tell anyone how could you ever explain this mess of a situationship to a friend let alone your father? As you bought the pregnancy test the cashier gave you a look of pity at your young age. You felt extremely ashamed just by the thought having to tell your father that his friend, a trusted one, had had an affair with his dear innocent daughter. Let alone telling him that the both of you had been to careless to use proper protection.

Coming back to an empty home you waited patiently until the test was through. Your foot tipped impatiently on the hard tiles of the bathroom floor. Your back pressed against the wall while trying to distract yourself on your phone mindlessly scrolling through instagram. The timer went off after those painful minutes your hands shaking as you reached out for it. As you saw the results you weren’t sure if you should cry or laugh. You were in fact pregnant. You felt helpless, like a child, not knowing how to handle a situation like that.

~

“Wanna go cycling” Natasha offered walking into your bedroom just coming back from her jogging round. “Didn’t you just run 15 miles” Your ask closing my book and turning onto your back. You try to hide my fear. “Well��� yes but that won’t stop me from spending time with my favorite girl“ she spoke falling onto the soft cushion of the bed right next to you. You only hummed looking in the opposite direction as You tried to not break out in tears. Telling her would destroy our fling. You knew that I couldn’t be the mother to her child even though you dearly wished you could. Her large hand grabbed yours. intertwining our fingers before kissing it lightly. Her kisses travelled up your exposed arm right up to your shoulder. “What’s going on in your pretty little head” she whispered in your ear making shivers run down your spine.

“Nothin’ I’m just thinking about how we only have a week left.” I know how she was looking at you but I didn’t meet her gaze. “I know and it hurts me just as much as it hurts you bunny” she sighed “however you will meet another woman, one your age, one who will all the things with you I’m too old for, one with whom you won’t get judged” Even though her words were true they hurt to hear. “I’ll go shower now” You nodded hearing how Natasha disappeared into the bathroom. It took about 10 minutes until you noticed that the pregnancy test was still on the bathroom counter however it was too late Natasha had found it first.

The bathroom door opened Natasha stepped into the room her jar clenched her gaze upset. “What’s the matter Natty” you asked in your sweetest voice “Don’t you dare Natty me right now! What the fuck is this” she held up the pregnancy test in her hands. I stayed silent biting even though a thousand words to explain it all flew through my head none seemed fitting. “Say something god damn it!”you had never seen the older woman so upset. “Natasha, I’m pregnant” your answer didn’t seem to smooth her anger “And when did you think it would’ve been a good time to tell me?!”

She paced around the room “I really wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how”you answered in a quiet voice “I can’t be a parent of this child” Natasha voice wasn’t warm and comforting as it was ten minutes ago; no it was cold and uncaring.

You’re eyes shot up to her utterly shocked by her words “W- What” “I can’t be a part of this childs life. I couldn’t look your father in the eyes ever again” she swallowed her trying to keep her cold facade up as she walked over to my door. “Natasha you are a damned coward. It’s just as much my child as it is yours! Can’t you see that?!” Your breath hitched “I thought you’d be a better woman. Just think about the child having to grow up with a single mother” Her jaw clenched as the grip on my doorknob tightened. “I won’t leave you. I can’t leave you” She turned back to you pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ll be there when you want to tell your father, when you go to the doctor for the first time, when you have terrible pregnancy cravings, when you give birth, when you don’t want to keep it I’ll be by your side, I would even run away with you without a doubt.” She whispered in your ear as you silently cried into her shoulder; hoping that this one time she’d keep her promise.

:)

[siriussslut]

I was wondering if you could do a regulus x reader smut. Where they're in a relationship and one night they're chilling in his dorm a bit drunk and regulus like sketching and drawing reader and she offers to be anatomy refference which leads to him edging her and sketching her while she's laid out infront of him while he's in her. And then after it's like ON.

this turned into sub!regulus which i wasn’t planning but is so 🤤🤤🤤

warnings: unprotected sex, praise kink, anal fingering, cutie sub regulus

masterlist

you take another swig of the bottle and then toss it back on regulus’ pillow. the two of you are lounging on his bed, drunk and giddy. he’s sketching you in the journal in his lap, glancing at you every few seconds as he draws.

you stick your face over his sketchbook.“how’s it going?”

“well, i’m drawing you, so beautifully.”

“you’re such a dork,” you giggle, glancing down at his page. your eyes stick to the way he drew your cleavage, obviously one of the parts he focused on the most.

“you only ever draw my top half. why don’t you draw a full body picture of me?”

“i need anatomy practice, i’m rusty,” he answers, continuing with his drawing.

your brain is fuzzy from the alcohol, stupid, so you push your tits above the neckline of your top. “draw my tits.”

his head snaps up. he flips to a new page, sketching the soft outline of your breasts.

you sit mostly still, slowly scooting closer and closer, bringing your chest nearer his face.

when he’s finished with his drawing of your breasts, he shows it to you, pressing a kiss atop one as you study it.

“it’s really good, regulus.” you look up at him through your lashes. “maybe i could help you with more anatomy?”

“yeah. why not?” his voice is breathy, a little too high. you remove your top completely, and then slip out of your skirt and your panties, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers, staring as if he hasn’t seen you hundreds of times before.

you roll your eyes. “draw!”

he flips to a new page and begins his rough sketch, lining up your body parts. you’re sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, your dripping cunt on full display.

you slide one finger inside of yourself, moaning. regulus is now looking at you more than he’s drawing.

“i told you to draw, reg,” you say, breathy.

“can i… please can i touch?”

you nodding, pulling your fingers out.

he runs a finger through your folds, collecting your slick before pushing his pants to the floor. his cock is inside you in seconds.

you push his head back, hands on his throat, feeling his heart race beneath your fingertips. “draw, baby.”

his cock is quivering inside of you as he continues his drawing. you play with your clit, moaning and dripping on his erection.

you can tell how hard he’s resisting to fuck the living daylights out of you.

hours later, you’ve came more times than you can count, and he’s still waiting inside of you, drawing.

“i’m finished!” he suddenly exclaims.

you circle your fingers around your puffy clit. “show me.”

he turns the sketchbook to face you. you gasp. “oh, regulus it’s beautiful.” his cheeks color.

on the page, you’re finger fucking yourself, eyes shut tight, face screwed into a moan. your pussy is glistening wet, dripping on his cock.

you push his sketchbook aside, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. “i have never been more turned on in my life.”

you run your tongue along his face, licking. you want to devour him whole, there is simply too much love and desire inside of you for one person.

you mumble against his slippery jawline. “you’re such a good boy, reggie. i know that was hard for you, and you did such a good job.” you grab his balls as you speak, tugging.

he gasps, cock twitching against your walls. “i love you,” he whispers, looking at you with blown out pupils, eyes foggy with lust.

you kiss his lips, pushing him down to the bed. “i’m gonna treat you so well,” you mumble between kisses and tongue. “you’re gonna come so many times.”

you fuck yourself on his cock, thrusting up and down. you pump lube onto your hand and slide it beneath his ass, grabbing onto a cheek before slipping into his hole.

he screams, arching his back. you fuck him with your hand, sliding in and out to the rhythm of your thrusts on his cock.

his ass clenches around you, cock jerking.

you don’t stop fucking him as he comes, instead grabbing his balls with your free hand, adding more stimulation. he shoots hot ropes of cum inside of you. it drips out onto his dick, thick and creamy.

you slip off of his cock, letting go of his ass. you slide down the length of his bare, sweaty body. he’s lying and panting, completely boneless. you pull his soft cock into your mouth, sucking.

he gasps, but bucks his hips into your face.

you grin around him, ready to make good on your promise.

[fatallyfalling]

Bitter Water 0.08 ~ ♆

“ You’re staring again, “

{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}

{{ previous part || next part }} {{ masterlist }}

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, PTSD, forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, President Snow, time skip, unshared feelings, nightmares, unintentional self-injury, alcohol, sexual harassment, character death, gore/blood, etc

{{ word count }} 6.3 k

{{ outfits }}

{{ prompt }} Desirability has consequences. Desirability is a cage, and you it’s prisoner. A product and a drug to the Capital elites as something to control and have obediently submit. But the drug of almonds and honey is something sweeter and you’ve grown rather accustomed to the taste.

{{ a/n }} This is another cliffhanger i’m sorryyyyy but thank you for all your patience i already have 0.09 in the works i’m hoping to get it up asap after this i love you all sm forehead kisses muah!!

If hell were a place on earth it’d be this room.

Quietly tucked in a penthouse apartment within Capital high-rise walls. With ornate furnishings and slippery silk sheets a stark shade of white that made your skin prefer the idea of being set ablaze and slopping off your very bones just to escape their ensnarement.

The scent of roses suffocates like poison.

If hell were a presence she’d slink between shadowed corners of the space, seeping through the walls, and the floor. Whispering through bars on the windows in the form of tightly drawn curtains blocking out what would have been a skyline view if it wasn’t to hide the happenings behind closed doors. The penthouse was kept cold. There was no love here, no gentleness, no kindness.

Kindness was scarce these days.

Had hell been a person she’d be the shadowed visitors with finely trimmed suits and dresses that glittered with each twist and turn. Gloved hands, colored hair, sticky fingers, and sultry lips covered in luster that held cruel, fanged smiles. Hands as rough as sandpaper that moved as aggressively as attempting to strike a dulled match with pointed nails that too often left angry crescents and small bruises imprinted on your waist and wrists. A predator.

And you were their prey.

Prey made to be caught and devoured.

Made.

You hadn’t always been this way. You knew that. You still foolishly clung to shattered youth and hopes of something “normal” but the pieces of that hope had become too small to pick up and too complicated to piece back together. Things were different now and there was no going back. The first year was the most difficult. Combined with the steep learning curve of mirror-practiced smiles and inviting the unconsented touch while maintaining the subtle demeanor you’d performed so well through The 67th Games when you’d rather commit treason and spill the blood of the penthouse visitors teetered over the edge of excruciating. What would be the cost of more blood on your already crimson-stained palms anyway?

Everything. Everything would be the price.

So carefully crafted were the claws you hid behind perfect manicures. The spiteful temper that blistered through your ribcage was now kept on an even tighter leash than before. You had to keep your loved ones safe. You had to keep that stupid Peacock safe. Your small family back in District 4 was kept unaware of what your frequent visits to the Capital entailed. However, the occasional resigned glances from your Father across the dinner table suspected otherwise. You met his gaze less and less as time wore on.

By the second year, you’d developed a routine. A controlled performance of engrained obedience and an equally forced smile laced with feigned pleasure to top off the act. On the outside, no one seemed the wiser, assuming you’d grown accustomed to being Desirable by the Capital District of Panem. Obedient - submissive, even.  But on the inside, a simmering flame groomed a hatred so vile part of you sometimes pondered how many worlds would shake when you erupted. A hatred for the President that forced you here and a hatred for the repeated lies you told and fell victim to in the name of survival thus far. There’d been plenty of liars in your wake of winning The Hunger Games. Wolves in bloody, rotted sheep’s skin stared down the last remaining lamb of the herd in the name of sacrifice and control.

You were nothing and everything and nothing again as the repetitive act carried on.

Desirability was a curse.

By the third year, You’re forced to mentor your first tribute. The boy had been young, just barely turning twelve a few weeks before The Reaping. The unluckiness of his name being drawn had reigned in pity from the Capital citizens and weary parents across the nation. It seemed to always be that way when someone young was Reaped. His name had been Trout Nettlewood. A gangly kid on the smaller end of others his age, but he was surprisingly nimble and could run like a fox, flaming red hair and all. Your assignment had been to shadow Finnick, learn the ropes, and inspire sponsors through your mere presence. Looking back, the rumors between the two of you had never been greater than during that time. The perfect picture of some twisted, hyper-romanticized, “what if - family” for the Capital’s voyeuristic viewing pleasure. At only only nineteen years old the sickening demand for the Peacock and yourself had never been higher.

Trout had been easily lovable by the masses. A small, scared fox who didn’t stand a chance. He was curious about everything and determined to learn despite his circumstances. The boy devoured the few books of healing herbs and edible foraging you’d scrounged up with surprising ease. He was smart and bubbly, dozens of freckles plastered across his cheeks, nose, and forehead that scrunched when he smiled. Your heart squeezed painfully when he did. The Capital fell hard and fast for the boy, adoring cheers ringing through the crowd during his brief interview with Caesar Flickerman. Warm smiles and a curious intrigue oozed from the auditorium that had you fear vomiting right then and there in the stage wings. Despite the adoration your Tribute earned, and much to your dismay, you knew the minute that bell rang in the Arena they’d look elsewhere. Even with the calculated facades and fleeting rumors, sharks were going into that deadly sea, and they wouldn’t hesitate to kill the weakest links the first chance they got.

You spared a sidelong look towards the bronze-haired man beside you and caught the creasing in his brows and pulse of muscle in his jaw with quiet observation. Both of you had matured over time. Finnick had developed like fine wine, of course. Whether it had been genetics or luck, the honey-tanned Darling was taller and broader, with refined features and a lean, muscular build that sent young women across the Capital swooning. If it had been possible for his charismatic nature and flirtatious attitude to get any worse he’d somehow found a way as well. The urge to punch the Peacock after every sneaking, sarcastic comment made on your maturity was growing as equally difficult to reign in as your hidden temper.

Victoriously, you managed a few jabs to Finnick’s inflated ego when no one else was looking now and then. Yes, you’d matured and better filled a few places than before, but you hadn’t seen yourself changing much at all these past few years. There was always something bigger to focus on and besides, vanity had never taken much priority when you’d grown up working day and night to feed the twins and aid your parents, especially following your mother's passing.

The banter between the two of you had made a routine of its own you supposed. Snapping retorts back and forth on the long train rides between District and Capital, or in elevators between revelries had become something you’d mildly looked forward to. Sometimes whispered secrets were traded in hushed voices when you'd manage brief relief from the vile clients that had purchased your company for the night. The secrets had started simple enough. Favorite colors and what pastries served at the Capital banquets you were forced to attend tasted best, just to name a few of them. You learned the Darling favored the small citrus tarts that seemed to only be served on special occasions when the fruit was in season, everything else was too sweet for his liking. Generally, he enjoyed anything citrus it seemed.

“You don’t have a sweet tooth? I’m surprised, Peacock.” You’d remarked at the time.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” He’d lilted in response, mischief gleaming in his sea-green stare. “You’re quite the mystery yourself, by the way.”

“I prefer the mystery. Why lay everything out like a book when you can keep someone guessing?” You’d replied with a wry smile of your own.

Another secret you’d learned was his knack for tying knots. He’d ramble off on tangents of different tying styles and their uses between hushed chuckles. The knowledge he shared was extensive, and you offered your versions from your time helping on the shipyards back in 4 before your games. He’d offered to show you a few times, but with your overlapping schedules, the time never came to pass.

That warmth in your chest sometimes flared when you caught yourself absently staring at his eyes, the way they crinkled at the corners, or the pronouncement of the dimples that pressed into his cheeks when he smiled. You never allowed the warmth to spread, however, firmly smothering any chance the minute you caught yourself dwelling too much.

Your trade-in secrets was a small rebellion to the parts the two of you had to play. A performance of its own behind closed doors or in shadowed alcoves with prickly thorns and PeaceKeepers lurking nearby just out of earshot. Friendly or not, you were able to sense the mutual understanding of your situations. The predicament surrounding the rumors of the two of you being an alleged item made it easier to avoid one another at gatherings, the aid of clients dragging the two of you to different parts of the various pleasure halls and amphitheaters to keep you apart was mildly amusing at times. In its twisted way of course. But the slight draw, as if a thread tethered the two fo you to one another seemed to draw you both back in each time.

“You’re staring again.”

“Am not.”

Your eyes shift, gluing themselves to the suddenly very interesting floor.

“You bite your lip when you’re nervous or lying,”

You hadn’t even realized you’d sucked the flushed muscle between your teeth.

“Stop being creepy, Peacock.”

Finnick snorts, a roll in his shoulders following the motion of shoving his hands deep in his pockets. Sea-green eyes remained fixed on the red-headed boy across the stage. The spotlights were sweltering. Maybe if you prayed hard enough, the heavy, velvet curtains of the wings would push in and swallow you whole. You wished they would. The hazy image of layered gauze and Caesar’s cackling laugh from your interview just three years ago flickers in your mind. You shake your head to push the memory away.

“He won’t make it past the bloodbath,”

Your tone is cold, detached maybe. A lump had formed itself in your throat and you swallowed thickly, the effort futile. The reality of tomorrow had started to set in after two intensive weeks of training.

“You don’t know that. He’s fast.” Finnick quips.

His tone is also cold, though a hint of determination weaves itself in his drawl as you spare another glance his way. The Darling doesn’t look back. His gaze is still firmly fixed ahead. The crowd bubbles with ‘awes’ and laughter at a joke Caesar makes. Trout smiles. Your heart twists.

“We’ll see,” You respond.

A warm weight presses briefly into your shoulder as the tall Victor beside you turns away from the dazzling lights. Finnick was always warm. “Stop being so pessimistic,” Finnick huffs. But there’s no light in his ocean's gaze as your eyes lock. You feel the phantom warmth of where his arm brushed yours to the other side of the stage. Trout greets you with a hug and Finnick tells him well done, ruffling his fiery hair. Mechanical clicks and flashes follow as you guide your Tribute away from the commotion. This was his final night alive for all any of you knew.

Finnick decides to try and rally a few more sponsor candidates before sauntering off to the pleasure halls of the Tribute Center, leaving you with Trout for the remainder of the evening. Part of you wishes you could write off Finnick’s disappearance as neglect of his Tribute, but you know by the Darling's gait that the weight of tomorrow morning hangs heavy. One last ditch effort to try and bring Trout any chance of surviving.

“Let’s go get you something to eat.” You murmur to your Tribute, trying your best to smile warmly but you know the corners of your mouth are a bit crooked and your throat feels like it’s going to suffocate and collapse. Trout smiles with an agreeing nod, and your heart painfully squeezes, but you take his small hand and lead him away anyway. You don’t look back at the bronze-haired male behind you.

Trout scarfs down his food, despite the multiple courses. You barely touch your own as you stare blankly into the creamy, rose-petaled soup. Bile stings your throat at the floral, desserty scent. You push the feeling down the same as you push your bowl away, opting to offer it to the child beside you. Trout happily takes it with a grin. You dab a napkin to the corner of his mouth with a featherlight touch.

The evening is quiet, and a fire roars in the hearth of a grand marble fireplace in the common area of the Tributes of District 4’s quarters. The female Tribute of District 4 was under Mags’ Mentorship and had been scarcely seen these past two weeks. Her name was Annie Cresta, you’d seen her here and there over the years but didn’t personally know who she was. She’d kept to her rooms and barely spoke. You couldn’t blame her.

Trout had asked to sit with you on the sofa, Instinctively curling himself into your side. The small boy craved closeness, opting to stand close enough to either you or Finnick that body heat was shared or he could easily reach for a hand any chance he got. Initially, the two of you had tried to halt the child’s need for a caring touch considering what lay ahead, logically thinking it might hinder his independence in the area, but in the end, neither of you could stand to let him go into the maw of death without knowing the brief warmth of affection. Even though you were only seven years older than Trout, your viewpoints on the world were distinctly different based on experience alone. As mentors, it was your duty to train your Tribute and prepare them for the arena. The responsibility weighed heavy. 

But it was true you'd grown to love Trout in a way, just like you loved your siblings back in 4.

Maybe that made the goodbyes even worse.

Trout fell asleep nestled safely under your arm as your eyelids grew heavy while trying to recite the book of edible herbs you’d been working to memorize with him one last time. Your legs were outstretched across the leather cushions of the large sunken sectional, and your ankles lay crossed as the flame-haired boy slumbered soundly on your shoulder. He was still dressed in a finely trimmed, forest green suit though he lacked any dress shoes, just black crew socks. Trout hated shoes. The minute he got back from training they were always kicked off by the door. Thatcher had stumbled over them a few times and would grumble his distaste for the lack of manners but no one corrected the action, allowing the small freedom for the Tribute.

Your evening ensemble was a bit rumpled over your thighs and waist, but you didn’t mind. You barely registered the soft click of one of the heavy, entryway double doors as the wee hours of morning crept in.

Nor did you pay any heed to the whisper of a familiar almonds and honey cologne paired with a warm weight over your shoulders as the final pull to drag you into sleep.

No nightmares plagued your mind that night as the sweet warmth kept you safe.

The following morning was as unbearable as you’d expected.

You had awoken before Trout, grogginess trying its best to pull you back under the blanket of unconsciousness, but as your senses sharpened you remembered what today was. Dread settled heavily in your chest as you carefully adjusted your torso to prop yourself up better against the arm of the luxurious sectional in your best efforts not to wake the sleeping Tribute just yet. An ache splintered from the muscles connecting your right collarbone to your throat, howling in protest at the stretch of stiff muscle. You couldn’t help gritting your teeth at the adjustment, Trout's head weighing heavy on your shoulder as you shifted.

Blinking several times, your gaze finally shifted from the boy at your side to the slight weight over your body. A crease forms between your brows as your free hand shields a small yawn. Your nose scrunches with the action as you continue to wake up.

The faint scent of almonds and honey meets your groggy senses again, the worry in your brows deepening as you wipe away the sleep from your eyes. The weight and scent belonged to a familiar navy blue suit jacket, the material was sleek and satiny with a faint shine. It was Finnick’s jacket from last night’s interviews. A flicker of something warm strikes a thread deep in your chest, but you shove it so far down the feeling stops.

“Tch…” You click your tongue as you use your free arm to gently lift the garment, draping it over the back of the sofa as you turn your attention to the red-headed boy on your side. Tenderly, you give his shoulder a small shake and the boy stirs, eliciting a protesting groan from the child.

“Come on, gotta get up.” You murmur and Trout groggily sits up. A small, humored smile crosses your lips as you ruffle his already disheveled fiery locks. You try to ignore the deathly squeeze of dread in your heart as he breaks into a fit of laughter.

The morning picks up speed as Mags, Finnick, Annie, and Thatcher join you in the open-concept living area. Finnick takes trout off your hands as you quickly freshen up and find a change of clothes.

You don’t notice Finnick’s lingering gaze on your retreating form.

The air is heavy on the short trip to the flight hanger where the Tributes will be transported to the arena. Memories of your farewell and the bone-crushing hug from Mags flash in your mind. Casting a sidelong glance towards Finnick, you observe the clench in the victor’s jaw, which tells you he felt much the same about the hanger. Trout grips your hand like a vice as Peacekeepers lead the way. He’s trembling. Your heart squeezes painfully as it starts to splinter.

The peacekeepers around stand straight-backed with fingers warningly placed on the triggers of their rifles. There was no getting out, no last-ditch escape attempts.

Time was running out.

With a shaky sigh, you turn to face the small boy, who meets you with bleary eyes. “I-I’m scared,” He meekly stumbles over your name and you can feel the piercing pain of your heart breaking further. “I know, but you have to be brave right now, okay?” You try to soothe as you bend to be closer to his eye level. Finnick comes to stand at your side, taking Trout's cheeks in his hands gently as he too kneels. “You can do this Trout,” Finnick’s voice is firm as you nod in agreement. You bring a hand to gently stroke his red hair, the peppered freckles across his face scrunch as tears start to well up in his eyes. Finnick’s thumbs are quick to brush them away, continuing his speech. “You remember the herbs and you remember the knots I taught you. You don’t go near the Cornucopia - you run. If you find Annie that’s great, but your survival comes first, understand?” Finnick instructs as Trout nods, gripping The Darling’s wrists in his small, trembling hands.

You wished you could tell him everything would be okay. But you’d be lying through your teeth if you did.

You couldn’t give him false hope - it would dampen his senses in the Arena.

The peacekeepers start to fuss - instructing you to finish up as they shift their weight and adjust their rifles. You shoot a deathly glare their way, not quite caring for the possible repercussions. Glancing askance towards Mags, you see Annie in tears as she embraces the elder. Your heart breaks for her as well, but you’re quick to return your attention to your Tribute.

“Survive,”

Your words are earnest as squeeze the small boy’s shoulder, repeating the word that had kept you alive in the Arena just three years ago. Trout’s resolve breaks, and he throws his arms around your neck, pulling from Finnick’s hands and burying his freckled nose into the crook of your neck with hiccuping sobs. The constricting lump in your throat only tightens as you wrap your Tribute in your arms with a tight hug, pouring every hope and prayer to whatever gods might be listening to keep him safe into the embrace. Your gaze locks with Finnick’s for a moment and his sea-green irises fill with heartache as well. After a moment the boy shifts to hug the Darling with equal vigor.

The Peacekeepers have enough, and bark orders to get the tributes on the hovercraft.

Annie sniffs as she pulls away from Mags, her shoulders tremble as she boards the craft with two Peacekeepers on either side, semi-forcing her along.

Trout is reluctant to pull away from you both, but as a Peacekeeper steps forward and you send another defiant glare their way, earning a growl from the Keeper, the boy peels himself from Finnick’s embrace only to pull you back in and hug both of you one last time. You gently press a brief kiss to his fiery hair, unknowingly tugging hard on that thread inside Finnick’s chest as he takes notice of your action before the two of you are forced to pull away.

“I’ll miss you,” Trout whispers to you both before turning.

Your heart shatters then and there.

“We’ll miss you too,” You all but whisper.

A final, silent tear rolls down Trout’s cheek as two Peacekeepers turn to guide him to the hovercraft. The Tribute’s stylists follow close behind and you remain rooted to your crouched position with your arms wrapped around yourself till the industrial sound of the hovercraft’s door seals shut and reverberates through the hanger.

You feel sick.

As you straighten up, your gaze catches Finnick’s again, but his eyes quickly avert from yours, a muscle fluttering in his jaw. A crease forms between your brows as you divert your gaze to the departing hovercraft, your arms securely wrapping around your middle as if to self-soothe.

The trip back to the Tributes Center is silent - the tension thick enough to be cut by a blade. No words are exchanged as you arrive, heading straight to the pleasure halls to witness the beginning of The 70th Annual Hunger Games.

A vile cocktail of queasiness and dread coats your tongue as you force yourself to keep moving. The hall is bustling with Capital elites as you enter, following Finnick with Mags close behind. Your dread pools in your chest like a weight as you glance towards the large projections of the countdown to the beginning of The Games. Clenching your jaw you do your best to dawn a feigned smile. Finnick has already settled into his Cheshire smirks and relaxed demeanor, plucking an invisible lint from his shoulder as he weaves through the crowd, greeting sponsor candidates and past clients as he plucks two champagne glasses from a wandering avox before returning to your side. A part of you wishes you could slip between acts as easily as the Darling, his languid movements leaving bystanders none the wiser that the two of you had just sent a child to his inevitable death.

A child.

Your broken heart painfully twists at the reminder.

Cesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith have taken their positions as hosts of The Games as they banter across the multiple projections. Their voices meld into the cacophony that bounces off the high-rise ceilings.

“Drink?”

The Bronze-haired male’s voice cuts through your thoughts as he offers you the crystal glass. Your gaze snaps to his before flickering down to the champagne.

“Am I allowed?” You murmur, to which he responds with a wry smile and a nod before you tentatively retrieve the glass and all but down its contents. Finnick raises his eyebrows at your action but says nothing, a small shrug rolling over his shoulders and a coy smirk passing his tanned features before he echoes your movement, his head tilting back as he empties his glass as well.

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you observe the slight scrunch in his nose and the clench in the male’s jaw. The bitter aftertaste of the fizzed beverage leaves a tang on his tongue and a bubbling sensation in his throat.

“I always think it’ll taste better if I just drink it more,” Finnick scoffs.

“Sharing secrets already, Odair?” You murmur, your tone dull while passing your empty glass onto a passing tray as he does the same.

“You knew that one already,” Finnick quips, and you give a small shrug. The alcohol brings warmth to your chest as it disperses through your system. You’d allowed yourself one glass here and there after you’d gathered better control of the horrors that plagued your memories. Normally you tried to keep away from the drinks - mostly to keep the bad habit from developing again like it almost had after the 67th Games. But it helped to ease the edge before certain clients and at times like this.

“Maybe I did,” you reply, knowing full well he was correct. The dread still coils itself in your core but the normalcy of Finnick’s remarks is a slight comfort. A muscle pulses in your jaw as you protectively cross your arms over your chest once more. One of the small graces that came with mentoring; if it could even be referred to as one, was that neither you nor Finnick were allowed to take clients during the duration of The Games. As much as the Capital elites relished in gambling and playing dirty to gain loophole advantages, the rules for mentors were strict on prohibiting gaining Tribute favor by sleeping with sponsors. Despite the rules, that didn’t stop wandering hands and roving eyes over the honey-tanned Victor and yourself.

Rumors have still spread like wildfire alongside the grotesque demand for The Capital’s Darling and Doe - especially with the two of you appearing side by side regularly as mentors these past weeks, which inevitably sparked jealousy between clients as women and men alike shot possessive glares as they groped their chosen Victor. Bile threatened to rise in your throat as you bristled under a drunken man’s touch. Thankfully, his hot, liqueur-coated breath and wavering attention were pulled away as images of The Cornucopia swirled into view on the projections overhead. You don’t notice Finnick’s sidestep till his shoulder brushes yours, his radiating warmth lingering once again on your skin. Both of your eyes are glued to the screens, equal creases and hardened expressions replacing the parts the two of you too often performed.

Your eyes scan the small expanse of the arena you’re able to see, assessing your first look at the terrain while simultaneously scanning the other projections for Trout’s face. On another projection on an opposite wall, a grid of all the Tribute’s faces appears, prepared to blackout faces once the blood bath begins.

The Arena was set up similarly to a Pacific-northwestern mountain range. Tall redwoods and many caverns and cliffs are divided by a large dam. Your breath hitches as vague memories of the netted ravine of the 67th arena pass through your mind. Furiously, you blink the images away as the minute counter begins in a glowing hologram above the assembled stacks of weaponry.

“Do you see him?” you murmur, leaning slightly toward the male beside you with a hushed tone.

“Not yet,“ Finnick replies.

The bass of the automated countdown vibrates through your chest, each tick like an added weight to the dread that threatened to pull you under.

Warmth brushes your shoulder again as Finnick shifts, neither of you bothering to acknowledge your closeness to one another and neither of you moving away.

“You think they’ll make it?” You murmur again.

“I don’t know,” Finnick’s voice is clipped.

His unsure answer weighs heavy. There wasn’t any telling who would live or who would die.

Ten.

You swallow hard - resisting the urge to empty the contents of your stomach is proving to be a challenge.

Nine.

You still can’t see Trout.

Eight.

Where was he?

Seven.

“Where’s Trout?” You question, worry etching your tone.

Six.

“I don’t know.”

Five.

“Can you see him?”

Four.

“No,”

Three.

You drop one of your hands to your side, the action slightly brushing your knuckles with Finnick’s.

Two.

His callused fingertips interlace with yours almost on instinct.

One.

You don’t push him away. You don’t know why - but you don’t.

“Let the 70th Annual Hunger Games, begin.”

The silence in the hall is palpable as the bell tolls and tributes launch from their pedestals. A pain in your chest screams to look away but you can’t. You won’t. You have to find Trout. The first canon booms and your gaze momentarily tears away to the grid of Tributes. The boy from District 12 goes down. Another canon and another Tribute go down, but still not Trout. Several more canons fire off as the carnage begins, and several Tributes die in minutes.

Still no sign of trout -

“There,”

Your head whips as Finnick jerks his chin to one of the screens, a subtle point in the right direction. Trout is seen making a beeline from The Cornucopia for the trees, his speed and nimble movements allow him to flee unnoticed. You lose a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. However, you don’t relax - tensions still hold high as canons fire and the first few, crucial, hours of the Arena wear on.

There’s no going back now.

Neither you nor Finnick slept a wink the following days. He’d wanted to rotate in shifts with the sponsors but you’d protested - arguing there was a higher chance of gaining favor if both of you were there talking to the sponsor candidates. Your gamble worked. Trout received a handful of sponsor gifts thanks to Finnick’s charm and the weaponization of your own skill set. A canteen of water, some rope, and a small hunting knife had gotten him through till now. He’d managed to stay high in the redwood trees, passing from branch to branch and remaining vigilant for edible roots and foliage during his brief periods on the ground.

Four days in Annie had managed to find him, the two cautiously allying. Annie didn’t have any weapons - leaving you to wonder how she’d gotten through till now. Trout helped her scavenge, the pair silently traversing the woods and managing to stay out of range from other Tributes.

Nearly half of them were dead by now.

Many of the tributes had died from tripping off the cliffs in an attempt to reach the caves. Except the caves held mutts in the form of grotesque bears with too big claws and white, bubbling froth filling their sharp-toothed maws. The remaining Tributes learned quickly to stay away.

You stood anxiously rooted to your spot near one of the tall marble columns on the outskirts of the pleasure hall. Finnick was maneuvering through the crowd with his usual greetings and compliments to the sponsors. Mags was around but she’d been swallowed by the crowd. The Darling was much more of a people person than you were - you never quite could pin down his thought process or calculate his next move. The 65th Victor’s shift between his playboy act and usual demeanor was nearly seamless, the change so fluid you sometimes couldn’t catch it.

You’re nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes glued to the projections of The Games. Exhaustion was tugging at your eyes, the internal war between consciousness and sleep raging on as you subtly shifted your weight from foot to foot. Your attire for the evening whispered across the glossed tile with your movements. Hyacinth had kept your outfits rather simple, the garments sleek and elegant. However they still subtly matched Finnick’s - the trend having continued since your victory tour. You’d tried not to dwell on the matter, figuring it was simply due to the fact you hailed from the same District or the fact you had mentored the same Tribute. Neither you nor The Darling had directly addressed it with one another.

“Sponsors seem lively as ever,” Finnick sighs as he appears by your side, leaning his weight against the marble column to your left. “Is that different than usual?” you ask, sparing the male a sidelong glance before taking a sip of your drink.

“No, but tensions seem to be rising. Someone higher up was paid off to sponsor an enormous gift to the boy from District 2. Unsurprising, but we should keep an eye out.” Finnick explains, his tone plain as if he were just discussing the weather. “Do you know what it was?” you ask, fully turning your attention to the bronze-haired victor.

“No - but it can be assumed to be a weapon.”

“If it’s anything like that trident of yours, I’m sure they’ll talk soon enough,” You murmur into your glass. You knew bringing up the deadly trident that had been gifted to Finnick during the 65th Games was a cheap shot. Finnick’s jaw pulses at the mention, and he plucks an invisible lint from his jacket while turning his gaze up to the projections.

“I hope not.” That is all he responds with before the two of you settle into a tense silence for a moment or two.

“I didn’t mean -“ you start but he cuts you off.

“I know.”

You sigh through your nose, downing the rest of your glass with a small scrunch of your nose. You don’t pry further on the matter because that’s not how the two of you worked. There was banter and the trade of small secrets but never quite full apologies or sincerity. It was better to stay detached, you guessed. The weight of your responsibilities and the pressure of the capital was enough as is. 

Personal attachments only meant more trouble. 

“How far away is District 2 from Trout and Annie?” You ask, shifting the conversation just as the projections shift to a different Tribute.

“They’re on opposite sides right now, but District 2 is on the move near the cliffs.“

By now you’ve turned your gaze away from Finnick, but as you look away you catch the turn of his head from the corner of your eye. It was another dance the two of you had weaved, one person keeping an eye on The Games, and the other acknowledging the conversation.

“Have you seen Thatcher yet?”

“They’re out in the gardens. I caught a glimpse of them while making my rounds. speaking of which, did you make yours?” Finnick rebuttals your question with ease and your jaw tenses. “I did. I had to pry Mr. Sarginski’s grubby paws off me but I did.” You reply, slightly scoffing as you recall the drunken sponsor’s misconduct.

“I’ll handle him next time.” Finnick sternly replies, that same muscle pulsing in his jaw as his eyes flicker to the drunk across the hall.

“Tch, I don’t need saving, Peacock.” you quip, your gaze flickering to meet oceans of sea-green before returning to the Arena.

Finnick simply scoffs with a roll of his eyes that matches the shift in his shoulders.

“Still using nicknames?”

“Still trading secrets?” You rebuttal.

“Touché.”

A wry smile crosses the male’s face, flashing his too-white teeth and pointed canines as he lightly shakes his head. A somewhat comfortable silence replaces the lingering tension between the two of you as you return your full attention to The Games.

Hours pass, and night falls over the Arena.

The sponsors were starting to dwindle, a normal occurrence according to Finnick.

“They’ll pick back up once there are fewer Tributes.” He explained, earning a hum of understanding from you.

The Arena stills in eerie quiet for another hour or two before all hell breaks loose.

You almost miss it as Annie and Trout are ambushed.

Your breath catches as you startle, straightening as Finnick does much the same beside you. Panic surges in your chest as the Careers of District 1 attack. 

They didn’t stand a chance.

The boy Tribute of District 1 swings his machete with a roar, narrowly missing Annie as she shrieks in pure terror, scrambling backwards. Trout staggers back but brandishes his knife, the small blade like akin to a butter knife beside the older Tribute’s blade. A part of you instinctively wants to call out - scream maybe, but you don’t. You can’t.

There’s nothing you can do.

The girl from District 1 throws a dagger, striking Annie’s arm and she cries out again. Trout swings at their assailants, screaming for Annie to run but she doesn’t as she clutches her wounded arm. You’re screaming inside your head for them both to run.

But they don’t.

Trout lands a slash to the girl from District 1’s chest, but it’s not enough.

Her District Partner swings his machete again and it’s all over.

Annie’s screams reach a blood curdling volume as blood sprays, hot and sticky as it splatters across her face, her jacket, the grass. Everywhere.

Your stomach churns as bile stings your throat.

Annie’s screams blare through the hall, the shrill sound echoing off the high-rise ceilings just as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own sob at the unfolding horror. Your knees buckle - and you hit the tile below hard. Finnick is frozen in shock, rooted to his place as his gaze loses any light. His jaw pulses and he swallows hard as he can’t look away from the projections.

Gasps ricochet through the hall as Capital elitists witness the gore.

The canon booms.

Trout’s face goes black on the Tribute list.

His head rolls.

Annie runs.

The Hunger Games continue on.

You failed.

{{ taglist }}

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[eddiemunsonw]

Princess

Gator Tillman x fem!reader blurb

Summary: He's there for duty, but then you are there, you know?

CW/Disclaimer: No special warnings needed I believe

Author's note: I think sometimes this loserboy can have a little bit of rizz if he isn't shut down right in the same second. Y'know, the silence can either fuck him over or give him cocky confidence. Which is kind of what's happening here.

Words: 777

A sigh escaped your lips as you dunked the last pieces of glass in the trash. Thankfully, aside from a few broken pieces of glass and a slippery slope of olives spread around the aisle, nothing eventful had happened at the robbery, if you could even call it that. It seemed more like a kid that had been pressured into a dare to steal something and had massively fucked up by tripping over their own feet and knocking off some products. Still, you had to call someone in. Letting these things go unnoticed would only make you an easy target. Which is why you weren’t surprised when the Sheriff had sent his son your way.

Gator Tillman came to a screeching halt in front of the shop, music blazing through the speakers. You rolled your eyes and folded up your dishrag as you walked to the back to wash your hands. Behind you, the bell to signal someone entering the shop clanged. You took your time to get to the front, already hearing several “hellos”, patience dropping with each new one.

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” you mumbled, holding back a sigh. Gator frowned and already opened his mouth to retort something towards the rude greeting he received until his eyes landed on you.

“That’s no way to talk to— Oh… well would you look at that,” he smirked and moved closer to the counter you stood behind. “If I’d known this place was run by a pretty bird like you, I would’ve stepped in long ago.”

“Well… What do you need, Tillman? The kid’s probably still a minor, I don’t know if the security footage is—”

“Hush, darlin’, there’s no rush on the matter at hand. Rather… I’d like to hold yours for a moment, may I?”

He held out his hand, palm upwards for you to lay your hand in it. You frowned at this weird request of him wanting to shake your hand. Maybe to introduce himself formally, which made no sense considering everyone knew Roy Tillman, which meant everyone also knew his son. However, when you extended your right hand, he tutted.

“I understand the confusion but I wanted to see somethin’...”

He beckoned for your left hand and in your confusion you held it out for him wordlessly. A soft smile introduced itself on his face as he took hold of your hand, thumb dragging over your knuckles. You vaguely noticed his hand was warm and his calloused thumb didn’t feel all that unpleasant.

“Ah… look here,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you it seemed. He looked up, his thumb still circling a repeating pattern over your knuckles as he spoke.

“No man claimed you just yet? Any suitors?”

A dry chuckle left your throat. First of all, no one could claim you. You decided to humor him a little though.

“No one’s stupid enough to try,” you said with a shrug. It was up to him however he took that bit of information. He hummed lowly, eyes flicking back to your hand again, slowly following the path towards your wrist, up your arm… slowstop at your chest, back to your face.

“We’ll see about that, sweetheart. No boyfriend? Man with a plan?”

“None of the sort, no.”

His thumb came to a stop at your ring finger, tapping it without removing his gaze from yours this time. It was your own gaze that shifted as his thumb rubbed the spot with meaning.

“I’m telling you now, I’ll be putting a ring on that finger of yours, darlin’.”

Another chuckle, one of disbelief, escaped your throat.

“I’d like to see you try.”

He smiled and finally let go of your hand to take his vape out of his pocket. You watched as he brought it closely to his lips, halting right before.

“For you, Princess,” he stated before taking a slow drag of his vape, eyes never leaving you, “anytime.”

Only now you realized that your heart rate had picked up just a notch and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to curse him or yourself for it. He leaned forward to say something else just as his radio went off. He snapped his lips shut and listened to the static voice coming in.

“Duty calls. I’ll see you around,” Gator said as he swiftly turned on his heel.

Just as you thought he was going to leave, he suddenly cocked his head back.

“You got beef jerky and Dew?”

“Sure do.”

“Good.”

And with that, he left with what felt like the promise of a marriage involving a whole ton of beef jerky and Mountain Dew. What a Tuesday.