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leeknow-thoughts · 5 months ago

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୨୧ YOUNG AND INNOCENT

𝝑𝝔 cw : virgin reader, daddy!minho, p in v, mentions of oral, shower sex, overall pretty vanilla!

𝝑𝝔 a/n : miss mocha @yongbun wanted me to @ her !! And also holy shat guys i'm at 900 followers??? that's so insane to me!! I love you all so much :3

It was no secret, you were Lee Know's favorite member. He was never crude to you, mostly because you were one of the only members who never annoyed him.

And you were sweet, the second youngest member in the group who without fail remembered every birthday and anniversary and planned accordingly.

And you were innocent, the fact drove him crazy.

It drove him crazy how you sang Red Lights on stage and you would get embarrassed over it, how you would walk around the dorms in the flimsiest pair of sleep shorts and camisole ever made, how you would blush and get all embarrassed when fans would call you hot or sexy.

It drove him up the walls insane, your innocence. He was patient, for the most part, unless it came to you. He was protective, especially when it came to you.

You always assumed boys never asked you out because of your looks, but little did you know it was really because Lee Know would stare down any man with romantic or sexual intentions who came within a five meter radius of you.

After years of living with men, you had become quite accustomed to seeing male anatomy. Whether it was because the leader of your group was comfortable walking around shirtless, or because you had accidentally walked in on someone in the shower a few times, you became pretty desensitized to seeing naked men.

At first it would embarrass you, but after a while it just became part of life. But these men were your friends and coworkers, so when you would see them without their shirt on honestly it just started to feel like seeing your friends in a bathing suit.

And although you had gotten used to seeing male anatomy, your group mates would gawk and stare every time you showed even the slightest bit of skin. "What are you wearing?" Seungmin gawks when he sees you in your regular pajama shorts and cropped tank top, cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.

"Pajamas?" you retort, not knowing why exactly it would cause him to freak out.

"God, y/n," Seungmin gaffs, "you need to get laid."

You can't help the blush that creeps up onto your face, "w-what?"

"You heard me!" Seungmin persists, "listen, I'm not trying to be rude but you're the only member of the team who is still a virgin."

"So?" you cross your arms, "why is that such a bad thing? And what does this have to do with my pajamas!"

"Because you're twenty-something-years-old and you've never had your first kiss," he explains, "listen, we need to find you a boyfriend or something, only your boyfriend should see you in those kinds of pajamas, half your ass is practically hanging out!"

"I d-don't need a boyfriend," you huff, turning away from him, refocusing on the television.

"Then what is stopping you from y'know getting some?" Seungmin poses.

"W-well g-guys aren't really that y'know, into me?"

"Oh bullshit, I could set you up with someone, one of my friends," Seungmin proposes, "only if you want to."

"I-I mean y-yeah that's fine," you can't help but stutter.

"Good, I'll give him your phone number," Seungmin promises.

You couldn't help but get excited with the idea of going out with a boy. A thought that terrified you as much as it exhilarated you. "Pixie?" you call out to the boy who is currently playing League of Legends on his PC, the glow of his pink and purple LED lights illuminating his features as his fingers rapidly click against the keyboard.

"Hm," his head shoots up, looking to where you stood in his doorway, "hey, what's up?"

"I need to talk to you, and I hoped it would stay between us?"

"O-oh okay, yeah come in, shut the door," he says, he watches you flop down on his bed after shutting his door, "so what's wrong?"

"Okay well Seungmin is setting me up with one of his friends and I d'know - I'm just really awkward, I don't know how to talk to guys, like at all, and I d'know what to do," you confess to the blonde freckled boy who is swivelling around in his gaming chair that you bought him for Christmas, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"You're good at talking to me, how different can another guy be?"

"Pixie, you know it's different," you huff, sitting up, "please, I just need your help."

"Maybe you should go to Chan, or maybe Minho, I think they could help you more," Felix tells you, "but I think you should just y'know, be yourself, you're pretty and you've got a good personality and any guy worth anything is gonna see that."

"But w-what ab-about s-" you pause, hiding your face in your hands,"sex."

"What about it?"

"Well I haven't y'know?"

"Trust me, that much is obvious," Felix teases, "but really, most guys don't care much about virginity, some guys even find it hot when girls are still virgins, they get off on the fact that they're a girl's first," he informs you, you're hands moving away from your face, staring at him, "I know you may think that's weird, but it's the truth."

"But I don't know what to do."

"That's fine, some guys also find that hot, like with blowjobs you just need to make sure you take it slow at first, get used to it, then after that speed up, and don't be afraid to take deep breaths and breaks. And as far as sex goes the guy is mostly the one doing the work, you just lay back and relax," Felix explains, "unless you're riding him, but I wouldn't recommend doing that during your first time. Sex isn't that scary y/n, just think of it as two people just wanting to help the other feel good."

"T-thank you Lix," you smile at the boy, "t-that helped me feel a bit better."

"Anytime," he smiles that pretty smile of his, "oh, later do you want to get dinner with Jeongin and me?"

"Oh, no thanks, Minho is making me dinner tonight," you smile, you stand up from his bed and walk to the door, "thank you Lix, I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Lix smiles, refocusing on his monitor.

You were going to lose your virginity, you were dead set on it. And that was truly terrifying, but you tried to ignore that feeling of fear that pooled in your abdomen. It was just sex. At least that's what Felix said.

"Hi hi," Minho greets you when you walk into the kitchen, he was standing over a pot of water on the stove waiting for it to boil.

"Hi Min," you hum, taking a seat on the couch, "so what are you making? Do you need any help?"

"We have the rule to not let you in the kitchen for a reason, but thank you for the thought, I'm making your favorite," he says it like it isn't a truly heart warming gesture.

"Thank you Minho," you thank him.

"Mhm," he simply hums, refocusing on the stove, "so what was your day like? Do anything interesting?"

The words leave your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, "virginity."

This makes Minho's face turn to look at you, his eyebrows knit together with a look of utter confusion, "virginity?" he questions.

You hide your face in your hands, a rosy blush on your face, "y-yeah," you squeak, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity," you confess.

"Like today?"

"W-well no, but someday soon," you inform him, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity."

That was not okay for Minho, not at all, but you couldn't know that, you sounded scared enough. And that was when Minho got the best worst idea he has ever had. You could lose your virginity to him.

"Who is going to take your virginity?" he asks.

"Well I haven't exactly worked t-that part out yet," you confide, "but to someone, someone soon."

"It should be someone you trust," Minho advises you, "it shouldn't just be a random hookup, maybe it should be a friend, someone you already know, in a no strings attached kind of way."

"Maybe you're right," you ponder for a moment before shooting your head up, "do you think Felix would have sex with me?"

Minho can't help but choke on pure air, doubling over, "e-excuse me?"

"Minho! I'm being serious!" you whine, "Felix is my best friend an-and I trust him!"

Minho eventually regains his composure, "you shouldn't fuck your best friend, that always ends up messy."

"You're right," you agree, another idea coming to your mind, "I should ask Chan if he'll have sex with me."

"That's also a terrible idea, did you forget that he's already seeing someone?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, fuck," you groan, "what should I do, because if I don't lose it to someone else, I'll end up losing it to one of Kim Seungmin's friends."

"You could just fuck me," Minho proposes.

You can't help the way your jaw practically hits the fucking floor, "wh-what? You'd do that- w-well technically me?"

"I mean yeah, you're my friend, and I just want what's best for you," he reassures you of his intentions, "I'll teach you everything you want to know."

"Oh, well when c-can we?" you watch as he adds the noodles to the boiling water, "you know-"

"How about tonight? If you want to, I'm in no rush, you can choose when and where," he cuts you off.

"Tonight," you affirm, "tonight."

"Okay, tonight," Minho agrees, "you decide what we're doing."

"I want you to decide," you confess, "I just want this to be nice and y'know intimate?"

"Okay," Minho hums, moving to strain the water after the noodles had boiled for their needed time.

Minho eats with you, and cleans up the mess afterwards, you were on edge the whole time, not knowing what to do or what to expect. Practically vibrating with nerves and excitement all mixed into one.

"Y/n," Minho calls out to you.

You practically jump out of your chair, looking up at the man, "listen, you need to relax, let's take a shower," he proposes.

"O-okay," you agree.

You follow him into you and his shared bathroom, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin having their own bathroom. Minho was the first one to completely strip and that's when you saw it. His cock. That big thing was supposed to fit in you, there was no fucking way.

"Minho th-y-your cock," you gawk, if it looked this big and this intimidating like this you could only imagine what it looked like when he was actually hard.

"Don't worry," he grins, "I'll get you nice and prepped before I put it in."

His cock was nothing to joke about, big and fat with a slight curve, so meaty and girthy it was intimidating just to look at and he wasn't even hard yet.

Minho watches as you strip your clothes off, and you search his face for a reaction to your nudeness, you get one, "no wonder you have so many fanboys and fangirls," Minho grins.

He's offering you a hand, which you take, now standing under the water of the shower with him, becoming soaked from head to toe. He is quick to sink to his knees and start lapping at your cunt until you're painting his face with your cum before he's holding you still, making you give him another orgasm.

It hurts when he puts it in, you're whining and whimpering and falling apart, feeling like you're being ripped open by his fat length. He's gentle with you though, holding you delicately, kissing the back of your neck, stilling inside you and letting you adjust to his length.

"Jagi, that's only the tip," he hums, rubbing soft circles on your hips, "tell me when I can move, jagi."

It takes a few minutes before you're comfortable with him moving even more, but eventually you give him the go ahead. You're having to bite down on your tongue so you don't scream, "there you go, kitty cat, bigggg stretch," Minho coos, his hips stilling, "there now you're halfway done."

Your legs feel so wobbly like they could give out as Minho takes your virginity in the shower, "Min-daddy please move!" you gulp.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you," Minho groans, pushing his cock in until his fat mushroom tip is pressed against your cervix, "gonna stretch you out all good and nice, no other cock is gonna fill you up quite right."

"Daddy!" you're practically screaming when he starts moving.

He's slow and delicate with you, taking his time, savoring every stroke in your tight virgin cunt. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good. You felt the ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine, the sound of skin slapping on skin being all that resonated around the shower room. "Oh my fucking God!" you yelp when his cock presses against that spongy spot inside you over and over and over again.

His cock has you seeing stars, and you're thoroughly convinced this is the best you've ever felt. No wonder people always talked about sex when it felt like this.

With every thrust of his hips he's bringing you closer and closer making you feel hotter and hotter. Your body is writhing around, he keeps a firm grasp on you, holding you still for him. "Atta girl," he hums, "you're taking my cock so well, jagi, like your little cunt was made for it."

"Daddy!" you're basically wailing, tears of pleasure streaming down your face, it just feels oh so good, you never want it to end.

When his hand wraps around your body to rub rub rub your clit you're doubling over, pleasure racking your body.

And that's when the band building up in your stomach finally snaps. Glancing down to watch the stream of clear liquid drip out of your pussy onto the tile of the shower. "Daddy!" you whimper over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's it, jagi," Minho groans his cock slipping out of you before you feel hot ropes of his cum painting your ass followed by Minho's groans.

"Minho-" you whine.

"Oh, jagi," Minho is mumbling before he's turning you around and pulling you close to him, "I think I'll have to keep you, your cunt is just too sweet," he plants a kiss on your hairline as water from the shower hits your back.

#bun.writes #bunwritesskz #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids #lee know #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #lee know stray kids #lee know skz #lee know scenarios #lee know hard hours #lee know hard thoughts

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

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Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

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#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

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valenrixo · 1 month ago

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OMG, I love your writing!! Could I please request some more of the yandere femboy gamer?

of course!! thank you for the compliment 😋

This one got kinda long | insecure reader and yandere ! Shocker…

Yandere femboy gamer strikes again

Yandere femboy gamer who one day gets a anonymous message that you were gonna break up with him. He freaked out and as soon as you got back to work he clung to you but didn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong?” You asked a bit worried, usually he’d be chatting up a storm right now. You put your bag down and placed a hand on top of his head to try to get his attention.

“You’re gonna leave me…and i won’t be someone’s wife anymore…” you heard him pout, his voice slightly muffled from how he buried his face in your chest. You were about to respond before it clicked in your brain, “wife???” You thought looking down at him.

“You’re not gonna leave me are you!? I won’t let you! You’re mine! My spouse!” He suddenly sprung from your chest and looked up at you.

Yandere femboy gamer who made you lay in bed with him for the rest of the night cuddling and watching movies together, well as well as you could cuddle him while your feet were tied together and your arms.

Yandere femboy gamer who explains his favorite new game to you! One that he plays while you’re at work and you’re just over here with a deadpanned expression wondering why he tied you up in the first place.

Yandere femboy gamer who eventually unties you because his jealousy is gone. It wasn’t more than an hour that you were tied up but you still wondered how the hell that turned someone on.

Yandere femboy gamer who slipped out of the room for a moment and came back in a small frilly skirt before he started tying himself up and you realized what he wanted.

“Killian, it’s the middle of the night…shouldn’t we sleep??” You whispered trying to get the rope away from him.

“But….but…I want to be pounded…-“

“You can’t just say things like that!” You said red faced, not like you didn’t want to have sex with him you just wanted it to be the right time and being half awake from work is definitely not the right time for that. Especially since it’s your first time with him irl.

“So a no?..” he asked peering over his shoulder at you, you sighed and fidgeted with the frills of his skirt nervously. Was it the not the right time or were you just nervous that you wouldn’t be appealing to him.

He wiggled his ass a bit to entice you but seeing the insecurity in your eyes he stopped and untied himself, he plopped down in your lap.

“Fine, we won’t do it until you’re ready.” He muttered cuddling up to you, sure he was coco hungry but never enough to force you.

“You look pretty in the skirt—“ you complimented him

“Pretty like a wife?!” He squealed and turned around now straddling you.

“Yeah I guess..”

Yandere femboy gamer who calls himself your wife for some reason, you asked him once why and he just said because you two are basically married so he’s your wife. You didn’t question it any further because you knew he’d be crying again and asking if you were gonna break up with him.

Yandere femboy gamer who came to your work one day and demanded to see you because the one time he was streaming one of his chat members said you were cheating, all you were doing was typing boring numbers into the computer all day…

Yandere femboy gamer who forces you to be on call with him all day, him on mute just so he can hear your interactions with your coworkers.

Uhh I need to stop writing this now before it gets too long..

Requests open more yanderes coming soon please read my dos and don’ts before requesting.

#gn reader #masochist yandere #yandere femboy gamer #yandere femboy #yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #sub yandere #yandere oc #yandere blog #oc fanfiction #oc blog #oc #tw yandere #gender neutral reader #suggestive

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tarohugs · 28 days ago

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after you find out they cheated (nct dream)

►ot7 x reader

► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..

►read part 1 here!

►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do

MARK

After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy.

You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily.

Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings.

He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door.

“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”

You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.

“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”

You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”

Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face.

As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.

RENJUN

When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?

“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity.

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”

You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots.

Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants.

Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.

“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.

“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to.

Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.

He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.

Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.

renjun: y/n

renjun: let’s talk

JENO

After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before.

The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world.

Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.

“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.

“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed.

He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly.

Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.

You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno?

The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.

You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.

“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.

HAECHAN

When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash.

Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move.

Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.

Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time.

Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!

You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan.

As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.

JAEMIN

Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.

Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.

“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”

You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.

He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”

It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.

Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance.

You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be.

When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.

CHENLE

After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.

As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move.

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily.

You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy.

Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off.

Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.

Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.

yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle

JISUNG

Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.

Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day.

You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.

After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end.

As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.

Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?

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koqabear · 1 year ago

Text

Just A Taste

♫: 28 Reasons, Seulgi // Sacrifice, Enhypen // Hush, Ari Abdul // Oh my god, (G)I-DLE

“Sometimes, the best things are hidden in plain sight; all you need to do is give in to the chase."

vampire!soobin x fem!reader

Genre: supernatural au, office au, smut. pwp.

Word count: 9.8k

Warnings (for both the story and smut, it all blends together idk): barely edited. power imbalance oou… soobin’s a little evil and manipulative. And obsessive (severely). They have a bit of a predator/prey relationship idk how to explain it 😭�� mentions of blood/drinking blood, soobin has like. inhuman strength. dom!soobin, sub!reader, bit of a fear kink? for both of them? dubcon, also scent kink for soobin, pet names, (bunny, bun, pet) humiliation kink ig, manhandling, dacryphilia, biting (whaaat??), implied aphrodisiacs, thigh riding, dumbification, praise, subspace…? multiple orgasms, degrading, strength kink, begging, use of restraints, breast play, fingering, orgasm control, cum eating, finger sucking, pain kink for the mc tbh… brief male masturbation? Soobin is big mwuah, unprotected sex, possessiveness, claiming/mating?, overstimulation, creampie, mc briefly blacks out lol, lmk if i missed anything..

notes: starting october with this absolute banger that was sent in quite a while ago. this story is teetering on the darker side, so please read the warnings carefully before you read!

Soobin, who is alluring and intimidating yet strange all at once— a bit standoffish yet charismatic, a total enigma to his coworkers. There’s something off about him, yet no one can really pinpoint what it is; he’s just too good at acting normal— at acting human.

Soobin, who immediately takes an interest in his meek and evasive coworker who just transferred into his department, who always seems to be tense and even afraid when he enters the same room— naturally, his curiosity wants him to find out why.

You’re smarter than Soobin gives you credit for; because the moment you stepped into the office for the first time, taking in the new environment and its people, you immediately knew there was something wrong about the head of the department— but, instead of brushing it aside like everyone else, you stood by your gut feelings.

A terrible choice, really.

Because after a particularly busy evening for you, you quickly found yourself staying after hours in the office, glued to your chair and zoned out as you finished the countless tasks that were suddenly piled onto you— little did you know, it had all been on purpose.

From the privacy of his office, Soobin watched you carefully; could it be possible you caught on? Was there a reason you never wanted to be alone with him, never afraid to show the skeptic look in your eyes the moment he tried to be friendly and approach you? It’s not that Soobin hadn’t tried to dissuade your clear distrust in him— but it never worked, and most times he found that it only made things worse for him in the end.

Normally, he would let it be— so what if you find him strange? Everyone in this office does; though he pretends otherwise, he’s fully aware of the comments they’ve all made of him— yet it never fazes him.

You however, seem to be a completely different case; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about a human, never the type to give into his carnal desires unless absolutely necessary— even then, he’s always sure to give his prey mercy before feasting, only taking enough to satiate his hunger.

Maybe it has to do with the way your heart seems to beat a little faster around him, your eyes stricken with a subconscious fear that sharply contrasts your cold and indifferent attitude toward him, never batting an eye yet trying to hide the way your hands seem to shake when he gets even slightly close.

Poor little thing— in your attempts to distance yourself from him, you’ve only piqued his interest further.

Because as Soobin sneaks yet another glance at you, watching your every mannerism with hungry eyes, he’s found himself realizing that your fear is quite addicting.

With one last reassurance that the office is empty, Soobin makes his move.

You don’t hear his office door open; you don’t hear his footsteps approaching you, don’t even feel his presence as he stands behind you, quietly watching the way your fingers fly across your keyboard in an eager attempt to finish your last task of the day.

“Shouldn’t you be home by now,” Soobin fights the urge to smile as he watches the way you practically jump out of your seat, twisting around violently to look at him— the way you curl into yourself slightly isn’t lost upon him, “___?”

The way your name rolls off his tongue is dangerous; it’s perfect and addicting, just like the quick beating of your heart and your eyes that widen slightly as you realize who is currently towering over you— you seem unsure of what to say as you stutter your response to him, and Soobin has to resist the urge to coo softly at the way your hands grip onto your seat a bit tighter, your eyes glued to an unknown point behind him as you speak.

“I’m almost done, I’ll be leaving soon.” you say, biting your lip as you wait anxiously for his response; though you’ve always tried to seem flippant and indifferent in front of him, you can’t control the way your weakness leaks through you as you realize where you are— in the office, alone, cornered.

A moment passes. Soobin has yet to say anything, and despite your instincts telling you not to, you’re nervous enough to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction through his expression.

His eyes lock onto yours immediately.

You’ve never gotten a good look at his face before; every time he’d walk into the same room as you, you’d make it a point to avoid him entirely— but now, as you really begin to take him in, you realize with a slight dread that he’s incredibly handsome— you think you know why your coworkers were so eager to dismiss any strange behavior from him now.

“There we go,” he smiles, his plump lips stretching into a smile; his teeth are perfect and shine even under the old lights of the office, and you can feel yourself shrinking slightly as you take in his smile— oddly dangerous, your eyes falling onto his sharp, fang-like teeth that glint at you, the expression more warning than welcoming— and you will yourself to meet his gaze once more, his eyes scrunching up in a way you would’ve considered endearing— but the way his eyes flash isn’t lost upon you, and you can practically feel your heart stopping at the sight.

“You’re finally looking at me.”

That wasn’t normal. Normal people can’t do what he just did— they can’t make their pupils glint with the same, sharp crimson that Soobin’s just did, taking in your reaction with a dark desire— no, if it weren’t for the fact that Soobin’s mere presence was already enough to make your hair raise like a frightened cats, you would’ve had half the mind to blame it on your tired brain.

“What was that?” you ask quietly, not trusting your voice to be any louder as you scoot your chair away from him slightly— a horrible choice on your part, leaving you more pressed into the desk and as a result, more trapped.

You think you might have lost your mind as you watch Soobin tilt his head, eyes almost transforming and turning into something more sweet and innocent, round and sparkling under the old office lights as he pouts slightly; a total change from the man seconds before, and you would almost begin to wonder if your mind really was playing tricks on you, if not for the subtle twitch of his lips as he takes in your befuddled expression.

“What are you hiding,” you say, your voice becoming stern as you finally decide to take a leap of faith; you’ve had enough of cowering in suspicion, beliefs that only grow stronger as you stand, taking in Soobin’s amused expression as he watches your brave front.

“What do you mean?” he asks, still pretending to be clueless as he takes in your accusatory tone with a raise of his brow.

“You… you’re not normal,” you feel a bit ridiculous the moment you say it out loud, but the way the man before you only begins to smile blatantly spurs you on, “You don’t have to hide from me— I’m not stupid.”

“And what will you do about it?” He asks, and it’s only then that you feel your streak of courage begin to fade; he’s taken slow, deliberate steps toward you, and before you can stop it, he’s got you pressed against the desk— hands on either side of you, arms caging you in as he looms over you dangerously, “Will you tell the others?”

You freeze as he begins to lean towards you— you’ve gone in total panic mode, unsure of what to say or do as you merely stand helpless to him, feeling a primal fear take over you as your poor heart beats harder against your chest— Soobin’s lips are near your ear, the soft huff he lets out in amusement defeating to you.

Slowly, he begins to lean down lower— you don’t know what his intentions are or what he may do, but all you know is that you can’t remain still any longer— his breath fans across the exposed skin of your neck, and your eyes widen as you feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, razor sharp and threatening as he threatens to carve a path down the column of your neck; like instinct, your fists come up to push against his chest, using your full strength to push him away in a rush of adrenaline.

Except, it doesn’t work.

Soobin remains still. Entirely. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move an inch, even when you continue to punch at him, even beginning to kick at him when that doesn’t work— still, he remains unfazed, still as stone as you continue to try and get him off you.

Before you can even process it, his hands fly up to catch your own; his grip is bruising, and you can’t control the pained yelp that escapes you from how tightly he’s got you in his grasp. His strength… is inhuman. Helplessly, you meet his eyes.

“How cute.”

He smiles, and there they are again— his sharp fangs, his eyes that seem to glow threateningly at you, and his bruising strength that makes you wonder if he’ll shatter your hands— except, this time, it all seems to piece together, your mouth falling open as you begin to conclude the impossible.

“Your heart might explode at this point,” he mutters indifferently, eyes darting down to your chest that rises and falls with rapid, panicked breaths, “What’s going on in that darling brain of yours? You seem so, so afraid.”

“What…” Your words seem to die on your tongue as you thrash weakly in his grip, attempting one last time to escape before you finally give up, discouraged as you try to continue to seem brave, even if Soobin sees right through it, “What are you…?”

Soobin grins.

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

♡♡♡

Your requests to transfer departments have been denied. All of them.

Not a day has gone by where you feel safe in the office since then. Of course, there’s no way Soobin would do anything— not in such a public setting at least, where he’s vulnerable to exposing his real identity.

That still didn’t stop you from avoiding him— if anything, your attitude toward him only became more blatant ever since that fateful night— and though you wish you could say it worked out well for you, you know that’s a lie. All it got you was more questions from your coworkers and rumors that stirred up about the two of you— whether it was a secret vendetta or a soured relationship, you think you’ve heard it all.

“What is it about him that you just don’t like?” they would ask, nosy as ever as you simply tried to laugh it off and deny your behavior— if you told them the truth, what would they even say? How would they react?

“Why… are you telling me this?” you had asked him, sitting back against the desk in order to not fall— your legs were weak and you’re sure they would buckle the moment you tried to stand, eyes teary and giving away your fear as you stared up at Soobin.

“Because,” he laughed, the sound soft and breathy as he looked down at you, his tongue running along the top row of his perfect, razor sharp teeth; the sight was enough to make you shiver.

“No one will believe you.”

You haven’t allowed yourself near Soobin’s presence since then. Haven’t looked in his direction, haven’t gone near him, always sure to give him a wide berth whenever he’s in the same room as you, eager to show him that you don’t tolerate his presence and that you refuse to acknowledge him, no matter how… terrifying and threatening he might be.

Throughout the time that has passed since his confession and now, he’s taken every subtle change of yours with great interest— any change of expression, change of behavior, change of feelings, he’s taken note of it all.

Recently, he’s taken note of your heartbeat. The sound is usually very jarring to him the moment he senses you; always rapid and panicked, even more so once you realize he’s nearby— and he’s found himself searching for the sound more often than not, beginning to seek you out even if you may not realize it.

Though Soobin has noticed something different these days— at first, he thought he was imagining it, that it was just his deprived brain coming to conclusions that simply weren’t there, but the more he paid attention to it, the more he noticed it.

Your heartbeat has changed. It was miniscule at first, something so minute and subtle that if Soobin hadn’t spent most of his working hours paying attention to the sound of your heart, he could have missed it. But he didn’t, and the sound only became more and more blatant to him the more time passed.

Your heartbeat wasn’t the only thing that changed. Slowly, you changed as well. He wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t ignorant to the way you began sneaking glances at him, observing him when you thought he was unaware— but when it comes to you, he pays more attention than he lets on— and if were to say that he didn’t notice the way you’ve began to study him with a subtle curiosity, that would be a downright lie.

Soobin finds your act of bravery very cute.

So, when the news is delivered that you would be presenting the monthly report of the company’s revenue to the higher ups, you think you felt your legs give out on you— Soobin could only watch with amusement from his office as you sat at your desk, a troubled expression on your face and your lips stuck in a pout as you chewed on your bottom lip like a habit— a habit Soobin had come to be jealous of, slowly finding himself craving to be the one to sink his teeth into you.

Soobin isn’t one to feed whenever a craving arises; he only does it when absolutely necessary, finding perfect victims before he swoops in and takes his fill— always enough to satisfy himself, but never enough to hurt.

His methods had been enough to have him survive and live a normal life, unlike those who jumped at the chance to fill a simple craving like beasts. So, being around you was both thrilling and dangerous— he found himself unable to control his thoughts the longer he remained around you, wondering what it would be like when he finally got his hands on you, wondering if you’d be willing to submit to him and let him use you as necessary.

For a second, he even ponders keeping you for himself.

♡♡♡

It’s late at night when you’re finally forced to present, the timing odd and unfortunate as you were told by your supervisors that “it was the only time that worked best.” The sentence was enough to have you irritated by the time the hour came along, forced to stay in your office long after everyone else had left before you finally made your way towards the presentation room on the top floor.

It was eerily quiet and empty as you made your way up, save for a janitor here and there or another employee that was finally leaving after their overtime; you had five minutes left before you had to present, and you could feel anxiety building up inside you as you shifted your weight on your uncomfortable heels— you had been wearing the uniform for so long that you couldn’t wait for the second you could go home and change.

Your heels clicked against the tiles of the floor, your hands gripping tightly onto the papers and laptop in your arms as you took in how many people were in the room; it wasn’t as much as you expected, but their power and positions had been enough to scare you straight as you enter slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click as you greet them politely.

Your smile falters as you spot Soobin at the end of the meeting table, leaning back against his seat with a bored expression.

The meeting room feels a lot smaller than it did before; you feel suffocated and on edge as your eyes meet his, feeling stiff as you slowly make your way to the podium. You’re quick to look away, eyes glued to the floor as you clear your throat nervously; even now, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin.

Soobin can feel his desire burning stronger the longer he looks at you; he’s able to take you in properly, no longer able to hide or run away as you push through the presentation, the polite smile you keep on your face professional despite the rapid beating of your heart. Soobin can feel it all— he’s trying so hard to keep his instincts under control, but you make it so difficult as you remain nervous and skittish before him, eyes meeting his as he becomes unable to hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

You feel oddly cornered; you’re surrounded by people, but it feels like it’s just you and Soobin as you watch him flash you a smile, dangerous and terrifying as you take in the way his sharp teeth manage to stick out, even at a distance— you can’t help but feel as though you need to run away and hide.

It’s always expected to stay back and wait for everyone to leave after you’ve presented; so that’s exactly what you do, head ducked down as you pretend as though the idle screen of your computer is much more interesting than your supervisors that file out and chat amongst themselves. Biting your lip, you try to ignore the way you can practically feel Soobin’s presence as he comes closer— you’re eerily aware of the way it’s just the two of you now, the heavy door clicking shut after the last person that left.

Your attempt to ignore him until the very end is almost cute to Soobin. He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh as he watches the way you flinch, figure becoming tense as you take in the way he comes up behind you, looking over your shoulder to see what could possibly be taking up your attention like this.

“Well done,” Soobin says, his voice smooth as ever as he takes in the way you shiver slightly, “your presentation was quite impressive.”

All you can do is let out a soft thank you, hoping your uninterested tone and closed off posture is enough to shake him off— but of course it’s not, and you’re practically scared to breathe as you hear the man take a step closer to you, your jaw clenching as you feel his head hovering over your shoulder.

“Is something wrong? You look a little… tense.”

You’re shutting your laptop and ready to exit in the blink of an eye— but before you can even take a step towards the exit, you’re being pulled back, pushed against the podium and shrinking against it as you meet Soobin’s gaze.

“Please, leave me alone.”

There it is— the look Soobin has desperately been craving, eyes darkening at the way you stare up at him, meekly masked with a brave front as your eyes give away your true emotions; he inhales slowly, and he can practically drown in the way your scent changes at his proximity, the once sweet and alluring smell now intense and intoxicating, the twinge of something new piquing his interest as he finds himself stuck on it, unsure of what it may be.

“Have I done something wrong? It seems that you didn’t like me from the very start,” Soobin’s act of innocence is far from amusing to you. You’re unsure of what response he could possibly be looking for as he stares at you expectantly, pouty lips and round eyes a contrast to the true identity he revealed to you long ago.

“You know what it is,” you say, finding yourself unable to make space between you and Soobin as you press yourself further against the podium, “You— you’re not… human. You’re dangerous, I don’t want you near me.”

Your words are enough to have Soobin’s brows raising in surprise— the sudden confrontational tone you’ve taken on is quite surprising, and he finds himself oddly satisfied with the way your heart rate slowly begins to change, your scent going from something more panicked and sharp to something that practically makes Soobin dizzy— he has to hold himself back from getting lost in it as he smiles softly at you.

“Dangerous?” he repeats, though he doesn’t seem to be offended by the word as he slowly begins to lean in; of course, you lean away in response, but it only gives you so much space before you’re craning your neck back awkwardly, leaving you in a vulnerable position as Soobin eyes it carefully.

“Have I… done anything… dangerous, to you?”

Soobin’s voice is barely above a whisper; if you weren’t so focused on his every word, you could have missed it.

You gulp; Soobin’s eyes flicker down from yours, and you can feel yourself shiver at the realization that he’s staring at your neck. His words ring out in your head again, and you feel yourself tensing from a threat that seems to be hidden behind it all.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you...” Your eyes are widening at his confession. There’s an unknown emotion swimming in Soobin’s eyes, and you can feel your hands cramping from how hard you’ve been gripping the edges of the podium behind you.

His eyes flicker back up.

You can feel yourself get transported back to the lonely day at the office, the scene eerily familiar as you take in the way his pupils become dilated, an intense glow of crimson swimming within as you find yourself unable to look away; the sight is almost alluring, and you realize with a heavy dread that Soobin is holding back— from what exactly, you’re unsure.

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?” he asks softly; you’re brought back to your senses as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through your spine, “I’ve noticed it all— especially the way your heart and body reacts to me now. Was it fun, pretending to hate me?”

Everything is so overwhelming. It feels as though your head is underwater as your mouth parts, unsure of what Soobin is going on about— you practically jump at the feeling of his hand landing on your waist, cold and big as his thumb gently caresses the spot.

“Aren’t you curious, bunny?” he asks, and you don’t realize that your eyes have been shut tight until you feel him pull away, confused by the sudden absence of his presence.

He seems to be lost in thought; his chest heaves with a deep breath— once, twice, his eyes fluttering shut in concentration— then he sighs, eyes slowly opening and a smile twitching at his mouth, lips slowly being stretched into a grin. He looks at you, at your cowering figure, your pounding heart, and your scent infused with a certain twinge he realizes he’s very familiar with— just, not familiar smelling it from you.

“You’re enjoying this,” your scent is thick and heavy, settling deep into his head and leaving him intoxicated from the realization that you’re aroused, face heating up and expression dropping with horror at his words; it’s no question, especially with the way your lips press together to withhold a weak whimper, “aren’t you?”

When you push Soobin off this time, he lets you; he stumbles back and watches the way you shake your head frantically, as if that could deny the way the way you have yet to run away, the way your scent only grows tenfold at the way he takes slow, deliberate steps towards you— your face is flushed and your legs tremble pathetically as you step back from him, walking along the long table as he only steps towards you in response.

“I’m— I’m not, you’re—” you can’t even seem to finish your words, mind blanking and eyes becoming glassy as he realizes that you’re embarrassed; he coos softly at the realization, reaching out teasingly to grab you, laughing heartily at the way you yelp and flinch away— as though he were something you should be guilty of being attracted to, as if the way you were feeling was dangerous.

And maybe it was.

“Are you embarrassed?” he coos softly, lips pouting as he looks at you with pity; you’re running out of room, about to go around the table and inevitably make your way back around to the exit— but not if Soobin can help it, eager to not let you out of his clutches this time as he rushes over to you; he’s grabbing your waist and pinning you against the windows of the meeting room in the blink of an eye, taking in the way you squeal in surprise and brace your hands against his chest— your heart is pounding at a harsh pace, a stark contrast to the way you feel nothing at all under your palms that press against the firm muscles of Soobin’s chest.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he sighs, pressing you flush against the windows and watching the way your eyes screw shut, attempting to curl in on yourself as you press your thighs together tightly; the sound of your tights rubbing together is almost deafening to Soobin, and his fingers dig just a bit deeper into the flesh of your hips, as though he were holding himself back.

“It’s normal to feel this way, you know,” he coaxes you softly, whispering soft reassurances as he runs his hands up and down your sides, smoothing the fabric of your clothes and running down your tight mini-skirt; feeling the way your thighs tremble as his fingers skirt along the material that covers it, blunt nails scratching your flesh and pulling the sheer cloth along.

“You’re so tense, bunny,” he mourns, feeling the way your breath hitches as his hands move— one pressing against the small of your back harshly, the other grabbing at the back of your thigh in attempts to press you closer against him, caging you in entirely; your back is arching and your head is involuntarily tilting back as your neck is bared to him; through wet lashes and wide, doe eyes, you finally look up at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he breathes out, his hand trailing up your thigh, cold palm smoothing the material of your tights, ruthless against the cloth of your skirt as he drags it along— hand hitching on your shirt and tugging it up slightly, your chest rising sharply with the breath you take as he brushes up, up the delicate column of your neck until he’s got your chin in his palm— fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as he smiles— it’s sweet, it’s dark, it’s predatory, and it sends a lick of fire down your body.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

When Soobin begins to lean closer, you don’t flinch away; your mind blanks and your lips part expectantly, pulse still quick and afraid under Soobin’s fingers that press against your neck, just under your jawline— and your eyes flutter shut, delicate lashes decorated with tears that wet your skin, a dark facade that only spurs Soobin on more— he’s finally got you under him, and it’s just as thrilling as he imagined.

When he kisses you, it’s gentle. He’s treating you like a fragile thing, testing the waters, waiting for you to respond to the way his plush lips press against yours, sighing in content the moment you do; your hands still shake against him though, unsure of what to do with them, only making Soobin hold back a groan at the way you grab onto the clean, pressed shirt the moment he slips his tongue past your lips, tasting you with such eagerness that you’re left breathless.

You’re shocked stiff when you feel it; his teeth, razor sharp and cautious, grazing along your bottom lip. The whimper you let out does nothing to distract Soobin from sensing the way your scent spikes, dense and rushing to his head as he does the only thing he knows how to do; his teeth sink into your swollen bottom lip, ripping a pained moan from you as your hands panic and press against his chest— but he stays there, feeling his fangs sink into the flesh, feeling the way blood pools around the wound and onto your mouth, on his teeth— he’s just as quick to pull them out, his hand that was once on your jaw traveling to the back of your head in a haste; eager to keep you close, tilting your head up and keeping your mouth parted as you simply allow him to lick and suck at the blood, to kiss you as though he could die any moment now.

It doesn’t hurt after a moment— that much surprises you, the only pain you feel coming from your burning lungs, from the need to be parted and breathe— but Soobin has deemed you his oxygen, his life force, reluctant to part even as you whine and plead quietly under him; after a moment, he finally gives in to your weak cries.

The string of saliva that connects you two is stained red; just like Soobin’s lips, and undoubtedly your own as well. His teeth are stained and your blood continues to fill your mouth, the taste metallic and strong as you try to regain your breath— slowly, your lip begins to feel strange, a tingling sensation running from your wound to your tongue, through the blood you swallow and into your system; your eyes widen, and Soobin merely looks at you with a knowing smile.

“What’s happening to me?” you ask softly, hands trailing up his chest to get purchase on his shoulders, broad and stable as you hold onto them like a lifeline— your body feels warm, your head is fogging, and your wound no longer stings— but the blood still dribbles out of it, far too much for you to keep up with it as you swallow continuously— and the feeling only worsens, until your thighs shake and Soobin’s touch suddenly feels much, much warmer.

“I feel— I feel…” you’re not sure how to describe this feeling; all you know is that you’re pulling Soobin back in for a kiss, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging desperately to feel his tongue against yours again; to feel the way it runs along your bites soothingly, whimpering softly and being met with a soft groan in response; your taste, something Soobin once thought would be the thing to finally satiate him, is something he simply cannot get enough of.

“Feel weird, bun?” he asks softly, pulling away and cooing at the way you cry at the loss of him, “I know, I know— let me make it feel better, okay?”

Your form is no longer curled up in a desperate attempt to close yourself off; you’re no longer trying to hide the way your panties stick to you and your stomach burns with a strong desire, the window suddenly cold against you as you allow Soobin to press more against you, to place a thigh in between your legs, firm and thick as he goes up, up, and against your cunt— you practically keen at the feeling.

“It’s okay bunny, you’re okay,” Soobin says softly, both his hands finding themselves on your hips as he presses you against him; cute skirt now ruffled just under his hands, showcasing your sheer tights and your lace panties that are completely soaked; soft cunt grinding against his thigh, leaving a mess of slick arousal that only serves to spur the both of you more— your scent invading Soobin’s senses shamelessly, just as shameless as the sounds you let out, hips angling so that your clit can rub against the harsh muscle of his thighs.

He clenches and jolts the muscle against you. You’re left to weakly hold onto him, a hand on his forearm while the other is placed on top of his own hand, gaze going down to watch the way you rut against him stupidly— harsh pants leaving you as you watch your panties become soiled, your tights suddenly a lot thicker as they impede you from really feeling him— but you push the thought aside in favor of looking back up at him, unable to hide the shiver that wracks through you at the realization that he was already watching your face intently.

“Feels good?” he asks, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, gauging your expression carefully— you nod frantically, attempting to say something, only for it to be cut off by a choked moan— Soobin has pressed your cunt flush against his thigh, forcing you to a slow grind that threatens your folds to spill out your underwear, the dirty sounds of your tights rubbing against the fabric of his pristine, smooth dress pants enough to have your face burning— and Soobin revels in the shame that it brings you, taking in the subtle, acidic changes of your scent with a deep inhale— he’s fascinated, and he refuses to let you go until his curiosity is satiated.

“What do you want, bunny?” The nickname affects you, that much he can tell— he holds you tighter, leans in to whisper in your ear, already feeling the way his close proximity is enough to have your heart rate spike, even if just for a second.

“How do you like it, hmmm? Want me to go harder?” his thigh tightens in a truly cruel way, angling it so that you can truly feel the contours of his every muscle— “faster?” and suddenly, you’re nothing but a pretty doll in his arms, his hands guiding your pace so that you’re riding him as recklessly as you want; the mewl you let out is enough to give him the answer he wants, changing his rhythm until he gets a particularly pathetic sound out of you.

“Like this?” He continues his set pace. And you’re shivering, unable to do nothing more than chant yes, yesyesyes, breathless and practically inaudible as you focus on the hot pleasure that you feel; Soobin is busying himself by whispering sweet nothings into your ear, things that would have you gasping and turning into a flustered mess any other day— but here, in these lonely, dark hours, with no one else around, you allow yourself to indulge; allow yourself to nod along to the way he asks if you’ll be a good little pet for him, if you’ll let him use you until he’s satisfied— and it all goes straight to your cunt, bringing a fresh wave of soaking arousal and making the pleasure in your stomach tighten until it’s unbearable.

You’re so close— and you’re quick to let Soobin know, watching your frantic attempts to take over the pace he’s set for you, whining and whimpering weakly as you search for that one thing that will set you off— and Soobin abandons whispering into your ear to place delicate kisses behind it, plush lips trailing down the column as his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you down against him, just like the way his lips trail lower, pressing kiss after kiss until his mouth opens and—

A cry is all you can muster as you fall apart on him. His teeth that grazed the sensitive spot of your neck have since then retreated, and Soobin is quick to sweep back in to steal your lips, pulling you in for a kiss you don’t have the mind to reciprocate; mind emptied, cunt clenching and soaking his pants as you allow him help you to continue riding out your high, whimpering weakly at the way he breaks the kiss to coo soft praise at you.

Come on bunny, let go sweet thing, that’s it, so perfect for me.

You’re not fully there by the time your orgasm has subsided; your mind is just as tingly and foggy as the rest of your body, your movements lethargic as you grab desperately at Soobin— craving nothing else but him, feeling as though the burning of your body can only be cooled by his touch— your eyes are glassy and fucked out as you stare at him, hips moving without you realizing as you silently beg him for more.

Soobin feels as though he could make you cum like this a few more times; entranced with the way your brows furrow and your mouth drops the moment you fall apart, the way your moans become choked and breathless as you ride out your peak— but he’s also undeniably greedy to be inside you, a desire he knows you share, judging by the way your hand has begun to trail down his chest slowly, eyes drifting down to the outline of his hardened cock against his smooth dress pants.

“Please…” you whisper out weakly, looking back at him with a face so pretty and undeniably pathetic that he refuses to hold back any longer— grabbing your hips and turning you two around quickly, forcing you to stumble back until you’re pressed against the table— and it doesn’t end there, letting out a whimper as Soobin hoists you up, the wood cool under your ass as Soobin continues to hover over you with need; you shrink under the intensity of his gaze, feeling your body buzz with a slight fear— and a slight adrenaline.

“What is it?” he asks, voice apathetic as he places a firm hand on your chest; pushing you down slowly, until you’re laying on the table and Soobin has parted your legs with ease to stand in between them; you’re whimpering out half-hearted and incoherent requests that Soobin doesn’t bother paying attention to, the hand on your chest making quick work to unbutton your shirt; low-lidded eyes taking in the cute bra that was hidden beneath, just as lacy and pretty as your panties as he smiles at the sight— your mind sobers for a second as you attempt to cover yourself in embarrassment, but Soobin refuses to let you as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them above you. His face is dangerously close to yours as he glares at you.

“Tell me bunny,” he grits out, feeling his clothed bulge press against your warm cunt, tensing at the way your arousal already leaks through the clothing; his hold tightens around your wrists and you squirm, legs locking on his hips as you try to grind your cunt against him— the sight is both endearing and pathetic to him. “I won’t know what you need unless you tell me.”

“Need you, please please, wanna feel you,” you ramble, wrists fighting to get out his grasp as you hips buck under him; your mind has become foggy once more, nothing else but a deep desire in your head that you know only he can satiate— you’re desperate for his touch and he knows it, so to have him deny you like this is nothing short of cruel.

He’s not satisfied by your begging. His face remains stoic as he lets go of your wrists, eyes narrowing at the way you grab onto his sleeves, eyes glassy and fucked over as you cry for him not to leave you like this— your body feels weird, and you just don’t know how to make it go away— you’re trying desperately to tell him what he wants, but nothing seems to work as you run your mouth until you’ve finally pressed the right button.

“Soobin, I— please, feel so weird, just wanna feel you, please help me, please?” your body is restless and you feel as though your heart only beats for the man above you, hot tears spilling from your eyes and running down your face; Soobin is quick to brush them away with gentle hands, shushing you quietly as he pulls at his tie; it was practically suffocating him anyways, and he feels as though he can finally breathe as he finally takes it off— and begins to tie it around your wrists with deft hands, enough for it to restrain you but not enough to hurt— and he’s left with a bit of extra length that allows him to pull your wrists down and flush against your stomach, watching the way your fingers absentmindedly stretch toward him, furthering your attempts to touch him as your rambles continue seamlessly.

“Soobin…” you cry softly, your chest heaving softly, supple skin peeking from your undone shirt, “feels so hot, wan’ your help… need your cock…”

There’s a thin layer of sweat that covers your body; a light sheen that sparkles along your chest and abdomen, hidden by the white, neat shirt that Soobin simply pulls further apart with a rough hand, untucking it haphazardly from your mini-skirt— and you shudder, unable to do nothing more but lay there as you wait for Soobin to do something— a soft cry of his name has him shuddering, dark eyes flickering back to your face as you repeat the pitiful sound.

His name has never sounded sweeter. He’s leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your breasts, free hand shoving the rest of your skirt up and onto your waist roughly— your body jolts from the crude movements, thighs shaking at the way his cool fingers skirt around the inside, drifting closer to where you need him the most, a shuddered sigh escaping you once his cool palm is pressed onto your cunt.

The fire in your body burns brighter. His touch is addicting and the lust that courses through your blood is only amplified by the feeling of him teasingly biting your breasts— never enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you of who he is, of what he’s capable of.

His strength is something you will never be used to— he’s able to rip your tights with a single hand, not flinching at all before he’s moving onto your panties next; the sound of the fabric tearing is eliciting a soft gasp from you, only for it to be replaced with a broken whine as his fingers glide up and down your slit— feeling just how much of a mess you’ve made, soaking his fingers and dripping onto the table as you buck your hips at him desperately— his fingers are wet as they circle your clit slowly, needy whines escaping you at the small stimulation, quietly begging for more— but he simply teases you, dark eyes staring up at your face and drinking every change of your face eagerly.

His fingers slip in so smoothly it makes him let out a soft moan; you’re so wet and tight, needy walls pulsing and sucking him in desperately, your cries still broken as you try to grind your hips against his two fingers, long and calculated as he presses along your walls, curling curiously and searching for the spot that will have you weak beneath him— and he finds it in no time, a long moan escaping you the moment the pads of his fingers press against it, curling and uncurling, watching the way your legs shake and jump at the sensation with a wicked grin; he’s pumping his fingers into you, adding another finger in, stretching you out until you feel as though you can’t handle anymore— and he tugs at your restraints teasingly, looking down at the way your nails dig into your palm and your arms become stiff from the pleasure— it only takes the feeling of his palm pressing against your clit for your breaths to pick up and become frantic.

“Soobin— Soobin please, ah— so– so close, gonna cum, ngh—” you’re thrashing under him, the pleasure so intense that you’re fighting against his restraints, head turning to the side as though you could hide your face from him, “please, need it, need t’cum, fuck…!”

You’re breathless and on the verge of tears, and Soobin takes it all in eagerly; he watches the way your face twists with pleasure, the way your arousal has soaked his hand and leaves your tight-covered thighs slick, and he feels the way your walls begin to tighten around him, so close, so impossibly close— he just needs to grind his palm against your clit a little harder, harshen his thrust so that your sweet spot is abused and you’re left a wailing mess, maybe bite at your skin teasingly, a promise for what’s to come—

But he doesn’t. He does the exact opposite of that, watching as your eyes widen and a broken look of realization dawns on your lips, eyes cloudy and filled with tears that refuse to spill; your voice is defeated and breaks with every frantic plea, your hips bucking desperately to try and get that fleeting pleasure Soobin is now denying you.

“No, nononono,” you babble, hiccuping softly as you screw your eyes shut, tears finally escaping you at the action, “noooo, please don’t stop— close, was so close to….”

Your words are interrupted by a soft sob that escapes you, your mind and body so desperate for pleasure that you feel as though your whole life-force is being taken away; your soft pleas blend together as you stare up at Soobin with pathetic eyes, hands that were once closed shut now stretching out to try and reach for him— but he refuses, staring down at your broken form with a blank face.

Soobin is quick to shut up your slurred pleas; his fingers are slipping out your cunt, dripping and shining with your slick arousal as he brings them up to your face— slapping softly at your cheek, watching the way your cum smothers over the soft skin and your mouth opens without much of a thought— your lips are tempting and pretty as they wrap around his fingers, a shiver running through his body at the feeling of your warm tongue running along the soiled skin, tasting yourself and letting out a soft moan; hazy eyes staring up at him, ruined cunt still bucking up at him subtly, as though tempting him to finish what he started.

And that’s exactly what he’ll do— his fingers are slow to slip out of your mouth, watching the dumbed out expression on your face as he does so— and his hand is trailing back down your body, brushing over the exposed skin with your spit-soaked fingers, not stopping until he’s back down at your pretty cunt.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he says softly, his thumb going to rub gentle circles on your clit, his index and middle finger running up and down your folds— his other hand has abandoned your restraints, and you attempt to sit up slightly as you watch him undo his pants— unbuckling his belt and letting it and hang loose, undoing his jeans with haste and letting them lay low on his hips, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers— and you can only let out a whimper at the sight of him finally pulling his cock out, long and thick with a flushed tip, leaking so much precum that you wish nothing more than to clean him up nicely with your tongue.

The pressure on your clit is becoming harsher; he’s building you up again, watching with apathetic eyes as your sounds begin to pick up again, still tense from your previous, ruined orgasm. You shake your head at the feeling, whining that it’s unfair, don’t wanna cum like this— need you inside, need your cock, pleaasee— god—

But he doesn’t stop— he’s stroking his cock at the same pace he’s set for you, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist going straight to your head, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming sight before you, nimble fingers swiping over his tip to collect his leaking arousal— and you’re close again, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop it this time, even if he pulls away, even if he tells you not to—

Soobin lets you cum this time. He watches the way your eyes widen and your mouth falls open with shock, his face twisting into concentration as he lets you cum on the head of his cock, pressing it in and breaching your walls just before you hit your peak— and you feel stretched, you feel full, helpless cries escaping you as he begins to thrust the rest of his length into your clenching walls, hands unsure of what to hang onto before you’re able to grab a bit of his shirt— and you’re pulling much harder than expected, eyes widening as you watch a few of his buttons pop off, not able to focus too much on it due to the feeling of his thick, pulsing cock entering you with every clench of your walls.

Your chest heaves in attempts to calm yourself down— his shirt is twisted in your fingers, but it’s not enough to ground you as you feel the way his length curves into you, pressing against the abused and sensitive spot that has you keening and clenching around him, shaky legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer— and he’s hovering over you, supporting himself with a forearm by your head as the other holds onto your waist.

He begins to move— it’s slow and subtle, starting at nothing but a grind of his hips as he feels the way your hot walls adjust around him, squeezing and fluttering and expanding, all as you try to take in his impressive size— then he pulls out slowly, feeling the way your cunt attempts to protest the action, your eyes rolling back at the way you feel every detail of him, pulling all the way out until the only thing left is his tip that catches on your entrance, the rest of his length covered in your shared arousal.

Soobin remains there for a second; deep breaths fanning against your skin as he closes his eyes in concentration, willing himself to not cum at the feeling of you, the sight of you underneath him, the sounds that are panted and whined directly against the shell of his ear.

Without warning, his hips snap back against yours— the action is sudden and has your body sliding up the table slightly, only to be brought back down by Soobin, who wraps the length of his tie around his hand and pulls you back against him— burying himself deeper into you, feeling the way his cock practically splits you open— but you like it, your scent practically emptying his mind and your walls gripping him like a vice— it’s hard to move, but Soobin accepts this challenge eagerly as he begins to fuck you.

Slow, it’s so agonizingly slow. But it’s deep, and Soobin angles his hips so perfectly, grunting against your ear and letting out sighs with every pull of your restraints, the tie tightening around your wrists and sending you back down on his cock ruthlessly; you’re nothing but a doll for him to use and control, your sharp heels digging into his back as you try to hold onto him helplessly, treated like nothing but a ragdoll as Soobin slowly begins to pick up his pace.

Then his hips are slamming against yours. The sounds of skin against skin is echoing harshly into the meeting room, and his cockhead is mean and thick and heavy as it presses against your sweet spot, again and again until you’re hiccuping moans, unable to breathe, unable to fight against the overwhelming pleasure— and it’s just how you like it.

Your mind is racing, your mouth unable to spit out a coherent thought— but your body speaks for you, and Soobin watches as you begin to grow restless under him, the way your legs tense and your hands pull at his shirt, eyes rolling to the back of your head and fluttering shut as he retaliates by fucking you a little harder; your wrists ache and so does the rest of your body, but you don’t seem to care as you walk this tightrope of pain and pleasure, something Soobin is well versed in— he laughs softly at your fucked out expression, releasing a sharp breath before his lips are hovering right by your ear, sentences punctuated and broken up by the exertion of his body and the moans that your cunt rips out of him.

“That’s a good bunny— cunt so fucking tight– shit, just wanna make you mine, keep you to myself, claim you like you deserve—” he listens to the way you react to his words, feels it, your cries and nods not slipping past him as he lets out a breathy laugh, “you’d like that? Yeah? Fill— fill you up nice and full— fuckin’– take care of you like a good little pet— hah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You’re nodding, fuck, there’s drool building up in the corners of your mouth, tongue lolling and absentmindedly brushing past the bite marks on your lips, the dull sting only bringing about more shocks throughout your body, desperate to be satiated, a fire begging to be put out— and the idea of being nothing else but Soobin’s, his to use and claim, is absolute heaven in your mind.

The knot in your stomach is becoming impossibly tight; you’re on the verge of hitting your peak again, Soobin can tell, yet there’s something else your body seems to be begging for— and he knows exactly what it is, grinning wildly and practically stealing the thoughts from your head as he pulls the tie in his hands roughly; his inhuman strength sending you back down on his cock with ease, lips brushing against your ear and hot pants making you shiver as he speaks to you in that dangerous, low voice of his.

“Say it,” he growls, his pace not faltering even if your cunt is willing to hold him so tightly he’s unable to pull out at all, your head thrown back and your eyes screwing shut from the pleasure.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you’ll take it– fuck– take it like a good pet— say it. Say it, use your words, bunny.”

Your words are coming back to you with a particularly unforgiving thrust of his— eyes widening as they search for Soobin’s frantically, only to be met with his head of blond hair and his face that’s tucked in the security of your bared neck— and you let go of any shame that was left inside you, a carnal and primal feeling overtaking you as you beg, and beg, and beg.

“Please– please please, I want it, I need it— Wanna be yours, wanna be claimed— fill me, use me I– need— need it, hnng– want it, want you to fill me, cum inside please— been so good, right? I’ll take it, I— ah! I— wan’ you to claim me, make me yours—!”

Soobin has never heard anything more perfect. He’s calculated as he thrusts right into your sweet spot, once, twice, three times— and he sinks his teeth into your pretty little neck, listening to the wanton squeal you let out, cunt immediately soaking and choking his cock— but he holds you down nicely, pressing his weight onto you and placing both hands at your hips, making sure you can’t squirm away from him or his cock that lets you ride out your orgasm, rutting his cock into you even after you’ve begun to shake from the sensitivity.

Your blood is heavenly. There’s no single word that could describe its taste, the way it makes his body shiver and his eyes roll back, finally setting him off the moment he swallows. And he cums inside you, fills you up good, the warm liquid squirting endlessly inside you, prolonging the feeling with the subtle rocks of his hips. It goes on longer than the two of you expected, filling you up with cum until it has no room to go, dripping out of your abused hole and leaving a ring around the base of Soobin’s length.

He listens to the way you cry and sniffle above him, lost in the pleasure— it doesn’t hurt. No, far from it. It makes you see stars and makes another weak wave crash over you, and you think your consciousness is slowly slipping out of you from the intensity of the pleasure you’ve received; Soobin’s lips are stuck on your neck for a few more seconds, warm tongue brushing over the sore punctures before he’s pulled away, your neck sensitive and bruised from the bite.

And it heals nicely the moment he’s pulled away. But there’s something different this time, something that shows up on your skin that he’s never seen before; two faded dots remain on your skin, and though it’ll remain inconspicuous to everyone else, Soobin immediately recognizes it with a soft shudder— he feels his cock twitch inside you.

It looks like his body has agreed with his mind; you’re the perfect fit for him, his to use and take care of until he can’t anymore— he rubs soft circles on your hips, straightening up and looking at the mess before him with fond, lustful eyes— a sheen of sweat covering your whole figure, your closed eyes and parted mouth, your shirt that’s been left open and mirrors his own torn one, your bound wrists and skirt that’s haphazardly bunched at your hips.

And his eyes wander lower, to take in the way your thighs continue to tremble and his cum leaks out, staining your tights and the table of the meeting room— you’re waking once more with a soft groan, looking up at Soobin through bleary, red-rimmed eyes.

He leans over, hovering above your face; pulling you in for a sweet kiss, smiling at the way you can’t even reciprocate it properly— and he nips at your bottom lip teasingly, feeling the way you immediately shiver in response.

“So good for me, bunny,” he smiles, continuing to trail kisses all along your face, on your jaw, traveling to your neck— and his eyes scan your faded bites with satisfaction, kissing it softly and feeling the way your body warms immediately.

“You’re all mine now, you know that?” your cunt clenches involuntarily at his words— and he’s slowly beginning to rut his cock into you again, already feeling a cruel thirst fester within.

“All mine.”

You can take another round, he’s sure of that— after all, you’re his good little pet.

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penkura · 7 months ago

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Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader

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mktskii · 2 months ago

Text

—Burnt Pancakes and a Loser in Denial

—Synopsis: As a newcomer in a busy restaurant kitchen, you’re a disaster waiting to happen, and Bakugou Katsuki isn’t shy about making that clear. The hot-headed line cook has no time for incompetence, and yet he finds himself begrudgingly stuck with you—his clumsy, relentlessly upbeat coworker who can barely crack an egg. Frustrated with your lack of skill, Bakugou can't explain the nagging urge to keep an eye on you or why your laugh sticks in his mind long after you’ve clocked out. Somewhere between burnt pancakes and late-night cleanups, Bakugou is forced to confront the unsettling truth: he just might be falling for the one person he insists he can’t stand.

—Pairing: Line Cook!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!Newbie Line Cook!Reader

—Genre: Slice-of-life, comedy, romance

—Tags: unrequited love (sort of), slow burn, workplace, oblivious crush, enemies to (one-sided) lovers, Bakugou Katsuki x reader, harsh Bakugou, denial, quirkless AU

—Notes: ..uh...hi everyone. soooo exuse my insanly long absence. i could use my excuse that I had lined up but would it really matter?? MOVING ON! i got this idea from @/tokenirainanfriend on tiktok soo go follow him ! THE SERIES WILL BE ON HOLD soly because..well..i need ideas. if you all have any, PLEASE message me! i would like to keep it going for a while. also, apologies to people who can actually cook, I'm taking away your skills for this one. ENJOY!!

Bakugou didn’t understand how anyone could be this goddamn dense. Not in a million years would he have guessed that someone who managed to survive in the world, breathe in and out each day, would lack the most basic ability to crack an egg without turning it into a massacre. And yet, here you were, assigned as his new coworker in the bustling, chaotic depths of the kitchen—his kingdom.

As the restaurant’s most efficient line cook, he’d established a meticulous routine to keep things running at the rapid pace they needed to. No time for nonsense. But now? With you around, it was as if the world itself had taken a nosedive into hellfire. He couldn’t go two seconds without hearing you calling his name over the clattering sounds of spatulas, saucepans, and the relentless sizzle of grills.

“Hey, Bakugou..uh,” you called timidly from behind him, holding a spatula in a death grip.

“What?” He turned, already bracing for whatever catastrophe you were brewing.

You offered him a plate of burnt, vaguely pancake-like shapes. “Do these look…right?”

He took one look. Actually— one GLANCE, and he felt two emotions. Disbelief and pure anger.

“Do they look right?" He scoffed "They look like somethin’ crawled out of a dumpster and got hit by a truck. What the hell do you call that?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, grabbing the plate and practically throwing it into the trash. “You don’t call it food, that’s for sure.”

The embarrassment on your face was plain as day, but you bit your lip, nodded, and set to remaking the pancakes with an exhausted sigh. Bakugou had half a mind to scream—honestly, just to get it out of his system. Why the hell did it bug him that you looked so damn disappointed? It was your own fault for taking a job you clearly had no skills for. And yet…

Goddammit, it pissed him off.

It shouldn’t have, but every time you tripped over your own feet trying to get out of his way, or when you muttered a soft “sorry” as if your very presence was an inconvenience, it lit some unidentifiable fuse in him. Not the usual, angry fuse—something else, something gnawing and ridiculous that had his stomach tying up in impossible knots.

And he wasn’t about to let that feeling win.

A few weeks in, the irritation only intensified. The kitchen was a battleground, and you were making him lose his mind. Bakugou was convinced you were planted there to make him suffer—some sort of karmic punishment for every curse he’d ever muttered and every rude remark he’d thrown.

But something was wrong.

Because somewhere between your second attempt at pancakes and your third night shift, Bakugou found himself…observing you. Watching out of the corner of his eye as you focused, cheeks red with effort, brow furrowed as you strained to not mess up. If someone so much as raised their voice at you (and he was well aware, he’d done more than his fair share), he felt his blood boil with some twisted, misguided desire to tell them to back off.

And he despised that feeling.

Every time he caught himself, Bakugou wanted to smash his head against the freezer door.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, scrubbing a pan with more aggression than necessary. But when you glanced his way, offering that usual tentative smile, it was like the damn pan wasn’t even in his hand anymore. For all he knew, it had slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor—but it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the way his pulse thrummed a little harder, just because of you.

“Did you need any…uh, any help, Bakugou?” you asked quietly, probably hoping not to set off his temper.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed—almost.

“Pfft, as if I’d need your help. Just don’t get in my way, alright?” he shot back, trying to ignore the weird pang in his chest at the dejection on your face. But before he could stop himself, he added, “But, uh…I mean, maybe later, if you’re still here, you could work on, I dunno, keeping up with me. No sense in dragging everyone down.”

There was that smile again, softer this time. “I’ll do my best, then.”

Bakugou glared at the pan, willing his pulse to slow down, all the while knowing this was some cosmic joke at his expense.

It wasn’t until one night—one particularly quiet closing shift—that the reality hit him like a two-ton truck.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, humming softly under your breath, and Bakugou was stuck restocking supplies, fuming at the sight of you so…comfortable, so at home in the space you’d once fumbled around in.

And for reasons he could barely understand, he just…watched you. Not out of annoyance or critique, not out of irritation, but just because.

For once, you weren’t trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t telling you off. You looked…content. And when you laughed softly to yourself—at some thought he’d never know—his chest squeezed so tight he was damn sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Hey, idiot,” he muttered, so low he wasn’t sure if you’d even heard him.

You turned, eyebrows raised, that smile making his stomach churn. “Yeah?”

For a moment, he lost track of every insult, every complaint he’d been about to throw at you. Instead, he felt his cheeks burn, and he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

“Forget it,” he said gruffly, busily organizing the shelf with furious precision. But his mind was already spiraling into the depths of horror: Oh, no. Hell no. No way. This is not happening.

Bakugou Katsuki, a guy who’d barely thought twice about anyone, was…interested? Him? In you?

The thought was absurd. Impossible. But it sat there in his mind, solid as a rock, completely unmoving and irritatingly present. He wanted to punch something—or better yet, punch the feeling itself out of his gut.

For the next hour, he did everything he could to avoid looking your way, stomping around the kitchen like he was gearing up for war, trying to deny this…this idiotic pull. He wasn’t some clueless fool—he’d seen people fall over themselves, getting all mushy and soft around others. But that wasn’t him, dammit.

Yet the feeling sat there, mocking him.

And when you called out, “Goodnight, Bakugou. See you tomorrow!” as you walked out the door, he barely managed a stiff nod. He had an insane urge to follow after you, to make sure you got home safe. Stupid. You can take care of yourself. And it’s not like you’d want him hovering around, anyway.

He slumped against the counter, rubbing his face, silently willing this “crush” or whatever it was to just burn out like a candle in the wind. But he knew it wouldn’t. Not as long as he saw you, talked to you, heard that laugh and saw that damn smile.

Bakugou Katsuki, now a loser in love, was stuck. He’d be damned before he ever admitted it out loud.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

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gorgeouslypink · 1 year ago

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something that i think people don't understand abt manifesting is that you really need to forget abt the "how"

i want to share something that happened recently at work. as many of you know, im working my dream job that i manifested in the void. the coworkers are great, the pay is amazing, i do like the work im doing and i manifested being really good at it too BUT recently i kind of hit a block mentally. there wasn't really anything i disliked and i couldn't even explain what i felt and why i felt this way.

i talked to some friends but all they could suggest is getting a new job but that wasn't it either.

anyways i know LOA and i can even enter the void. i didn't enter the void for this issue because i didn't know what i wanted so one night, when i was contemplating this entire issue, i decided no more. i just knowingly told myself that i would start loving my job and did SATS for it.

within the next day, a coworker announced she was moving to a different company. and by coworker, i meant a huge boss. this threw our entire company into a frenzy and it was determined that my department was to take on some of her stuff. all of us had our responsibilities moved around and i got some new tasks.

these new tasks are so fun! and i also came into realization as to what was troubling me. i work in data analytics, meaning i look at all my company's data and i analyze trends or anything else people need. i manifested being insanely good at coding and having an easy time with projects so i really like this job but i kinda didn't see any results of my work. i would do all this work and then hand it off to someone and just start doing something else. however, one of my new responsibilities is actually seeing what happens with my data, seeing what people do with it, and I'm now able to directly speak to some people in meetings and such and emphasize my thoughts. when i first manifested everything in the void, it was coming from a girl who was pretty insecure and shy and liked to keep to herself. im still an introvert (ig that never really leaves you) but now im way more confident and ig i really wanted to talk to people and push my ideas more.

not to mention, these new responsibilities opened up a whole new coworker circle for me. don't get me wrong, i love my coworker friends but it's always fun to meet newer people and i met some really nice people who are changing the way i think professionally but are also great people in general.

i also got my equipment upgraded and i never realized how annoying my old equipment was until i experienced the new equipment.

anyways i could go on and on but the point im trying to make is "don't worry about the how." i literally didn't even know why i was feeling down and if you had asked me before if that coworker would be leaving, i would have said no. she's been working there for 20+ years and she always loved her job and had amazing benefits so no one saw this coming, but i did talk to her and she said she always wanted to try a different industry and she finally got the opportunity. not to mention, my department and her department aren't even closely related. ig my department knows a little bit of everyone's stuff because we look at everyone's data but we were totally blindsided when we were first told thar we were the ones that were going to help take over, esp such a high level person's job.

this is a side story but one night, i just really wanted some cookies. ig i was having midnight munchies but the cookies were 25 miles away and there was just no way it was happening. anyways i fell asleep knowing that i was going to get the cookies the next day and i was just thinking of doordash or grabbing them myself but when i woke up, the cookies were on the kitchen table. before everyone starts hating and asking how those cookies appeared out of nowhere, apparently my friend was in the area and thought of me so she grabbed me some as soon as they opened and left it on my kitchen table.

so seriously, stop worrying about the how and what ifs and just go straight to your desire.

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

Note

hiii, I love your work, just wanted to ask if you would do the “shes busy bro” text thing with the baldies

i’m so slow bc this is not what you meant but i made the texts too don’t worry😭

she’s busy

𝑜𝑛𝑦

it wasn’t your fault that the waiter was flirting with you while ony was using the bathroom, but he still took it very personal. you knew how he felt about that “friendly” attitude you seemed to have towards people. and even though the waiter had no business trying to get your number while he was in the bathroom, you had no business giggling and smiling in his face like you were going to give it to him. you were both wrong, but since ony can’t deal with the waiter tonight, he will deal with you.

“ma stop wit the runnin. you not goin nowhere.” ony groaned, yanking your hips back to him as you tried to crawl away from his relentless backshots. “i-i didn’t even d-do nun” he chuckled at your weak defense, thrusting back into you at full speed to shut you up. “and ian doing nun right now either. you lucky ion got yo ass cuffed up. daddy bein nice” ony jingled the cuffs in his hand before putting them down and continuing his brutal thrusts, your stomach brushing the sheets as he held your back down with one hand. you decided to just shut up, because little did he know you gave the waiter your number. to you, ony was just overreacting. he seemed like a genuinely nice guy to you so you gave it to him hoping the two of you could become good friends.

*ring ring* the sound of your phone snatched the both of your attention. ‘please don’t be him please don’t be him please don’t be him’ you repeatedly thought as ony picked up your phone. of course the guy had one of those automatic contacts with the picture so ony immediately knew it was him. “oh so this what we doin now?” he mumbled, dick still fully hard inside you as he showed you the screen. “i-it’s not what it looked like baby. i wanna be his f-friend”

ony scoffed as he answered the phone, smirking as an idea popped up in his head. the next thing you knew he was starting his quick pace up again, pounding you into the sheets as he spoke normally through the receiver. “yo?….you looking for my girl?……nah nah nah it’s all good. she right here” he put the phone towards your mouth before thrusting into you even harder, making sure to get each one of your pitiful moans through to him. “d-daddy pleaseeee m’gonna….fuckk m’gonna cummm!” you screamed as you felt his dick kissing your cervix. he brought the phone back to his ear, hearing nothing but the man’s breathing on the other line. “she busy right now…..move your fucking hand ma m’not playin wit you….delete this number or your next shift at that lil restaurant gon be your last” and with that he hung up the phone. you already know you were gonna get it as soon as you heard the sound of metal clanking. the fur of the cuffs brushing against your ass while ony spoke.

“gimme your hands mama”

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒

“you can do it mami. just give me one more and you can get a break ‘kay?” connie said before dipping his tongue back inside your awaiting pussy. you came home from work with tears in your eyes as you explained to connie the rude words your coworker uttered to you. sentences like “what are you, stupid?” and “jesus you can do anything right” thrown your way all day as your frustrated colleague used you as a punching bag.

in order to help fix your sad face, connie decided to change it into one of pleasure. sitting in between your thighs for hours as he gave you words of encouragement and reassurance to help uplift your spirits. “you not dumb mi vida. smartest girl i know so don’t even trip over that . papi gon fix it” connie’s mouth worked wonders on you, kissing, licking, and sucking orgasm after orgasm to keep you from thinking about the harsh words said to you.

the vibration of your phone took connie’s attention. the contact name “charles (coworker)” was calling you. connie brought the phone to your face, giving you time to read the name as he continued pleasuring you with his fingers. “this him?” all it took was a singular nod from you before connie had the phone answered and at his ear. he could hear the man trying to apologize almost instantly. “listen y/n. m’really sorry about how i was actin today. i was just frustrated and you were the closest person to me. please let me make it up t’you with dinner or something”

connie looked up at you, pretty eyes all glossy and low as you tried not to scream from how heavenly connie’s fingers fucked you. he mouthed a “you wanna talk to em?” smiling as you quickly shook your head no. “didn’t think so” he said before putting the phone to his ear. “this her man. she s little preoccupied at the moment” connie quickly flicked his tongue on your clit, digging quicker and deeper into you with his fingers to draw out a loud moan. “auughhh ohh my goddd” your back arched off the bed as you felt your release coming close. connie continued to finger you while he moved his mouth from your clit to speak. “uhh she most definitely will not be having dinner wit your punk ass tho so you can dead that shit. m’not gon fuck you up cause she told me how much you need every check from that lil job, but if she come here crying again cause of you ima break your jaw”

𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛

“fuck keep suckin it jus like that mama” aran groaned as you were hard at work on his living room floor. knees burning from being in the same position for so long as you sucked the life out of aran’s dick while he sat on the couch. were you supposed to be here? fuck no, but there was no way you were turning down going to see the d1 athlete just so you can be home arguing with your bum ass ex boyfriend.

aran has been trying to get at you for awhile, and you would’ve been with him too if your ex would just hurry up and move out. he’s been purposely dragging his feet when it came to getting his shit out of your house, always lingering on the couch when you have company over to keep you from moving on. you don’t want to put aran through that so the two of you just settled for this. coming over to his place and getting the best dick if your life every weekend.

you had both of your hands wrapped around his thick dick. stroking him with a tight grip as you sucked on his tip. your eyes trained on his beautiful physique as you watched his big pecs move up and down with each breath. “shit girl you gon make me trap you” he chuckled as he watched you slap the head of his dick all over your tongue, spit dripping all over him as the both of your brown eyes locked. “do it daddy” you sighed before taking his full length down your throat. “oh i will”. the sound of your ringtone went off into the air, the both of you ignoring it as you continued, but it didn’t stop there. whoever was calling must’ve been dying or something because after the call came a bunch of notifications, then it rang again.

“man who the fuck-” aran mumble, his annoyed face quickly becoming one of mischief as he read the name on your phone. “s’randy” he said with a smirk. you rolled your eyes as you released his dick with a pop. “gimme i’ll just turn it off” you went to reach for the phone, but aran pulled it out of your reach, a petty smirk on his face as he answered the call and put the phone to his ear. before you could protest, his big hand found the back of your head, pushing you back down on his dick for you to continue.

“wassup randy. how you been nigga?” you rolled your eyes as you continued to let aran guide your head up and down. your tongue running along the underside of his dick while he continued to talk to your ex. “who is this? tell y/n it’s time to come home. m’hungry and i need her to cook something” randy mumbled, probably sitting on the couch surrounded by bear bottles and filth. “she busy. eating right now as we speak. how it taste mama?” aran said before pushing your head all the way down, his dick hitting the back of your throat as you gagged loudly into the receiver. aran brought the phone back to his ear with a smirk before letting go of your head. it was time for payback so you wrapped both of your hands around him again, quickly stroking him before roughly sucking his sensitive tip. “ooouu shit man we gotta go”

𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑎

“ohhh my godddd i’m about to give you a baby” tanaka groaned as he watched your skillfully bounce on his dick. large inked hands gripping your hips as the two of you moaned in unison. “want you t’nut in me daddy. cum in this pussy” tanaka’s eyes rolled at your words, the thought of him filling you up bringing him closer to his climax. he was the best bff you could ever ask for.

you’ve been having some issues with a guy you were talking to. he couldn’t seem to be able to grasp the fact that you are a bad bitch and could easily replace him if he didn’t act right. so that’s exactly what you did. you “replaced” him with tanaka. posting him and going on little “dates” with your best friend to get his attention. the two of you never expected to actually fall for each other. letting your true feelings take over as you plopped yourself repeatedly on his dick. you had forgotten all about your ex.

you knew he’d come crawling back one of these days, and you couldn’t wait to break the new to him that you were intact in love with another man. *ring ring* ‘just on time’ you thought as you snatched up your phone on the first ring, picking it up as you began to bounce harder on the man below you. “s-shittt who it that?” tanaka grumbled, but you ignored him. listening to the man on the other line beg for forgiveness. “listen baby i didn’t know it would be like this. i was stupid to think i didn’t need you. you were the best thing that every happened to me please give me another chance.”

a giggled escaped from your mouth before you put the phone to tanaka’s ear. “it’s my ex” you said before letting tanaka listen to the pitiful man beg. a smile planted on his face before he quickly brought your face down to his by your neck, thrusting up into you quickly. you tried to swallow your moans but he was just fucking you too good. “fuck daddy s-slow downnnn” you moaned, eyes rolling back as tanaka held the phone between your faces on speaker.

“stop bitchin, she can’t even talk right now. too busy getting fucked by her new man”

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reiding-writing · 1 year ago

Note

may i request getting stuck in an elevator with early season Spence after hours at the BAU and the lights go out and obviously him being terrified of the dark he starts panicking and reader has to comfort him until he eventually explains his fear of the dark in relation to something happening in his childhood. just some angst and hurt/comfort ig? I live and breathe your content <3

malfunction [ s.r ]

Summary:

You and Spencer end up staying late to finish some paperwork after a case, when you finally vacate into the elevator to leave it breaks down, revealing some secrets harboured by both of you and strengthening your relationship in the process.

WARNINGS: claustrophobia, nyctophobia, arachnophobia, mentions of spencer’s bullying

pairing: s1!spencer x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

wc: 3.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: glad i’ve curated an audience of angst and hurt/comfort enjoyers <33

It was late.

12:06AM to be exact.

Silence riddled the bullpen, making the usually bustling office stand completely still.

You might’ve found it a little disturbing if not for Spencer sat a few desks down from you, his mere presence stopping your mind from running rampant with irrational fears of ghosts or demons that might lurk in the dark corners of the room.

It was a little stupid sure, your lanky book-genius of a coworker held no chance of being able to physically protect you from whatever your brain could conjure up, but the mind works in wonderous ways, and he offered you an unintentional blanket of security nonetheless.

You could hear the loose papers of his files rustle as he closed the manilla folder, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses with a sigh.

Looks like Spencer was done for the night. And by that logic, so were you.

You mirror Spencer as you shut your file, packing it away in your messenger bag and tucking your chair under your desk as you stand, the two of you silently acknowledging each other’s presence as you reach the elevator.

You could practically feel the fatigue surrounding the both of you as you stepped inside, your tiredness bouncing off each other and making you more desperate to crawl into bed and knock out for the night.

It didn’t last for very long.

A loud clunking sound echoed through the metal walls of the elevator, followed by it jolting to a stop, and you had to grip onto the metal bar lining the wall so you didn’t lose your balance.

Your eyes turn first to the small screen above the door, flickering between the numbers 2 and 3 as if it can’t decide what floor you’re currently on.

Then they turn to Spencer.

Spencer's breathing is uneven and his body tense, eyes darting around the tiny enclosed space with a distinct air of panic.

“Reid? Are you alright?” You raise an eyebrow at him, your expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"N-No, no! I am not alright! This is my worst nightmare come to life." Spencer presses himself against the far wall, as if plastering himself to it will make him part of the elevator and therefore unable to be injured if something goes wrong.

“You do know how unlikely it is to actually get any sort of injury from an elevator accident right?”

"One out of ten point five million. I know that. But this isn't about logic this is about fear." He turns away as he speaks, taking a few breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. "I'm-I'm claustrophobic. And this is not helping."

“Okay- okay- let’s just calm down for a second,” You hold up a hand in Spencer’s direction. You never took him as somebody to have irrational fears like this. You always figured that he’d just use his knowledge to rationalise what was happening and move on. Apparently not.

Spencer looks back at you and nods, taking in another deep breath.

“I'm trying. It's just-“ The elevator makes a rumbling sound that elicits what you can only classify as a whimper to leave his throat. “I can't do this. I can't be stuck in this tiny space for an unknown amount of time. I can't. I just can't. Please. Please, someone. Someone has to know we're in here. They have to.”

“Reid- Calm down.”

You let go of the bar you were holding onto to walk over to Spencer, placing your hands cautiously on his shoulders.

"I-I'm trying. I'm trying."

But he doesn't actually seem to be any better than he was before. His body is shaking, his breaths shaking and uneven.

He's getting very close to having a full blown panic attack.

“Sit down,” You push gently against his shoulders to encourage him to sit, following after him yourself to sit in front of him with your legs crossed underneath you.

Spencer lets out a trembling breath. "What if we die in here? What if no one comes? What if something goes wrong?"

“We’re going to be fine,”

You hold out a hand palm up in your lap as open invitation for him to take it if he needs to.“just take slow breaths Reid,”

"I-I'm trying." He looks down at your hand and almost reaches out for you, but hesitates before yanking his hand back.

He looks away and forces his breath to slow down again. "What if we're in here for hours?"

“Elevators have failsafes Reid, it’ll sort itself out don’t worry,”

Spencer takes a shuddered breath in through his nose, closing his eyes as he repeats your words in his head.

It’ll sort itself out. He doesn’t need to worry.

He meets your eyes with a small nod and you sigh, giving him a sympathetic smile that reassures him he’s going to be fine.

Unfortunately, all of your efforts to calm him down are quickly reversed as the lights cut out, sending the elevator into complete darkness.

His sudden blindness brings a startled cry from Spencer, his body instinctively trying to protect himself and in that split second of shock he grabs your hand.

He clutches at it tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Everything’s fine-“ You return his startled grip with a light squeeze of your own.

The grip around your hand feels firm and shaky but the contact helps to ground him, bringing some of his panic down a notch or two.

“It's not f-fine. It's dark. I don’t like the dark . I hate it.”

“You’re scared of the dark?” You sound more surprised than you mean to, and although you can’t pinpoint all of his features in the shadows, you’re sure you can see his eyebrows knit together.

“11% of the US adult population is afraid of the dark.” His tone carries an air of defensiveness through his fear, although he doesn’t seem offended enough at your comment to sacrifice the physical comfort that your hand is offering in his.

“Oh- no- I didn’t mean it as a bad thing-“ You shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you, tightening your hold on his hand as an offer of reassurance. “I just- didn’t see you as somebody to have a fear of the dark is all-“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You can hear the slight waver in his voice as he speaks, clearly trying to distract himself in your questions so he doesn’t have to think about his current situation.

You’d also wager he has his eyes shut, as ironic as it is.

“I just meant- you know- your brain rationalises everything so quickly that I figured you just wouldn’t have fears like this?”

He chuckles nervously, the sound echoing in the darkness. "Well, even the most rational minds have their quirks, I suppose. Fear doesn't always follow logic." The tension in his voice begins to ease, and he opens up a bit more.

“Is there a reason you have a fear of the dark?” You could understand his claustrophobia to a certain level, but nyctophobia wasn’t something very common in adults, especially ones who work as field agents for the FBI.

“I uh- it was just something that happened when I was younger, it’s stupid really-” Spencer skirts your question with a half-truth, not divulging any details of his seemingly irrational fear of the dark.

He shifts slightly, adjusting to find a more comfortable position on the floor, his hand tugging yours and in the process forcing you to change your seating position as well.

You squeeze his hand gently. "Do you wanna talk about it? People usually find it easier to rationalise their fears if they voice them to another person,” You use Spencer’s own intelligence against him in the hope that it’ll get him to open up.

As much as you had learned about him in the past two years, you still knew surprisingly little about Dr. Spencer Reid and his life outside of the office.

You knew all about his academics, how he liked his coffee with as much sugar as humanely possible, how under normal circumstances he would rather lick a toilet seat than shake someone’s hand.

But you didn’t really know him; And you figured this might be a good place to start.

“I… It’s not something I like to dwell on,” He tries to shut down your questioning once more, clearing his throat to try and rid of the lump that forms when he thinks back to the origins of his fears. “It’s not exactly a nice thing to remember,”

“I get that, some of my childhood memories aren’t the best either,” You let out a breath that could almost constitute as a laugh of exasperation. “But it might help, and i’m sure that just getting it off your chest will give you piece of mind nonetheless,”

You can hear Spencer take in a breath through his nose, and through the small adaptation your eyes had made to the darkness you could just barely see his lips purse into a line, debating whether or not to divulge his childhood to you.

It’s not like he didn’t trust you with it. Quite the opposite. He’d come to enjoy your presence over the time you’d spent working together.

You didn’t judge his intelligence, nor did you reduce him to it. You just saw him as another person and it was something that he was incredibly grateful for.

He knew you wouldn’t make fun of him if he told you, but he wasn’t worried about that. He was worried that you’d pity him.

That you’d treat him like some fragile object that would break if you spoke too loudly in its presence.

That’s something that he’d never want.

“I- don’t want you to think of me differently…” His voice was still laced with fear as he spoke, but this time it wasn’t a fear of the dark metal box he was trapped in; It was a fear of how your view of him would change.

“Reid…”

“I don’t want to be pitied or have people walk on eggshells for the sake of hurting my feelings…” You can practically feel his apprehension through the way his hand tenses in yours.

“Reid-“

“I’ve just managed to get people to treat me normally and I don’t want all of that to go down the drain-“

“Spencer.”

You can see his eyes snap upwards towards yours as you raise your voice, and you pull his left hand into your own to hold both of them in your lap, eyes chasing his in the darkness to maintain eye contact. “You’re human. Humans have fears and they have bad memories, and it’s not going to change anything about how I treat you.”

“Tell you what,” You give his hands a squeeze, leaning forwards slightly towards him to try and get a better look at his face. “I’ll tell you one of my childhood tragedies if you tell me yours, deal?”

He goes silent as he ponders your offer, ending with a small nod that you can only half see. “Okay…”

“Okay,” You return his nod with your own, running your thumbs over the backs of his hands. “So, i’ll go first,”

“When I was eight, my cousin thought it’d be a good idea to let his pet tarantula crawl all over my face whilst I was sleeping, and I woke up with it half in my mouth,” You practically shudder at the memory. “Needless to say I developed arachnophobia after that,”

You laugh breathily, shaking your head slightly. “It was not very fun,”

“Why would he do that?”

You shrug slightly, arms moving enough that he can feel it where your fingers connect. “He was a bit of a bully if i’m honest, but he’s matured since then thank god,”

“Are you- still afraid of spiders?” Spencer’s eyes practically shine in the darkness, big, round and glistening with curiosity as they scan your face from beneath his glasses.

“Promise not to make fun of me?” Your question is answer enough, but he still nods softly nonetheless. “I think they’re terrifying,”

“Almost 20% of the US population has arachnophobia, it’s a very common fear to have,”

“So is a fear of the dark,” You bring the conversation back to Spencer’s fear once more. “Willing to tell me its origin story yet?”

Spencer sighs, his shoulders slumping and his head leaning back against the wall of the elevator. “It’s-“ He exhales through his nose, his eyes diverting from yours to stare at your interconnected hands.

“When I was in school I was bullied a lot…” He purses his lips and you nod. As sad as it is you’re not exactly surprised.

Someone as insanely intelligent as him was unfortunately bound to be tormented by those who were academically inferior to him, it’s a by-product of jealousy.

“They uh… stripped me down and tied me to a goal post, and- then they just left me there-“ Spencer’s throat catches as he speaks, and you can see through the way his eyes flicker around that he’s replaying the memory in his head.

“I- managed to untie myself after a while, but I spent over an hour searching for all of my clothes and ended up walking home in the dark half dressed…” Spencer’s lip quivers as he reaches the end of his explanation.

“I don’t think i’ve ever been more scared in my life…”

“I’m so sorry they did that to you…” Your eyebrows furrow with sympathy, and you shift your hold on his hands to intertwine your fingers with his. “Nobody should have to experience that…”

Spencer exhales, and you can hear the shake in his breath. “I thought if I just buried it that i’d forget, but I still remember it like it happened yesterday…”

The curse of an eidetic memory you suppose. Destined to remember every detail of the worst experiences you’d ever had.

Although you’re sure that Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to have what happened to him burned into his brain.

“Spencer…”

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer shakes his head, attempting to pull his hands out of yours. “I told you it was stupid-“

“Hey. No.” You close your hands around his to stop him from pulling away. “That is in no way stupid at all.”

“You went through something awful and developed a fear because of it. That is the furthest thing from stupid Reid,”

“I just-”

You cut off Spencer’s attempt at a rebuttal with a pull of your hands in his, separating them only to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “No excuses.”

Spencer is stiff in your embrace, unsure of what exactly he should be doing. Should he hug you back? Should he pull away to regain his personal space?

He wasn’t exactly sure. He did however, feel like he was going to cry.

He could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids, squeezing his eyes shut to stop them from falling down his face and hiding his face against the curve of your shoulder so that you wouldn’t be able to see the shadow of his expression.

God he was pathetic.

Sat in his coworkers embrace because he was scared of the goddamn dark.

On the verge of tears because of something that happened twelve years ago.

A twenty four year old man. A fully grown adult.

His shoulders begin to tremble as he thinks about it, and you can feel the way his breath catches in his throat as you bring your hand to the back of his head to hold him closer to you.

“This is pathetic i’m sorry…” He shakes his head against your shoulder, hindered slightly by the way his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.

“Shhh,” You shake your head in tandem with his, leaning your cheek against the side of his head as you rub your hand over his back. “Don’t be silly,”

"You're not pathetic, Spencer," You reassure him, your voice gentle. "Everyone has their own fears and struggles. It takes strength to open up about them."

He takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "I just never thought I'd be so affected by it for this long."

"Trauma doesn't have a set expiration date," you say softly. "It's okay to still be working through things. And you don't have to face it alone."

Spencer finally relaxes a bit in your embrace, allowing himself to accept the comfort you're offering. "Thank you," he mumbles, his voice barely audible against the fabric of your shirt.

“No problem-“ You don’t finish your sentence before the lights come back on, causing you to squint from the sudden brightness.

The sudden light flooding the elevator exposes the position the two of you had found yourself in, your legs tangled together as Spencer sits in your embrace with your arms around his torso and his hands resting limply by your waist.

“See?” You pull his face away from your shoulder gently, leaning back to finally get a fully clear view of his face. “Nothing to worry about,”

“Yeah…” He nods softly, eyes still a little red from holding back his tears, and he sniffles as he pulls away from you properly when the elevator starts moving downwards again.

“Do you want a ride home?” Your invitation is obvious as you two of you pick yourselves up from the floor, your eyes silently encouraging him to accept your proposal.

“I-“ The elevator came to another halt, this time thankfully opening its doors on the ground for the two of you to leave.

He had his train ticket in his pocket, but he was willing to forget it for now.

“That would be great, thank you…”

“No problem Spencer, let’s get outta here,”

He tries to brush aside the way he feels when you call him by his first name, nodding softly with pursed lips.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here…”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #mgg #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago

Note

i feel like alhaithams child would like the arts. they’d be smart and intelligent and everything but they’d also love the arts. that’s what got alhaitham to question the sages in the first place, seeing his child’s emerald eyes light up when they are creative (and uncle kaveh giving them tips on art), he has to wonder what is so BAD about art. trying to hid his child’s talent breaks him more than words could ever explain and even though it’s for their safety, he feels like he’s being the worst father in the world. however, the secret meetings with nilou for dance, the art lessons with kaveh, and him sneaking yarns, fabrics, threads, and art supplies are ways for them to explore art until something changes. and if anyone asks him why his clothes have embroidered green on them, he says he bought it from another region even though it breaks his heart to not brag about how talented his child is.

(sorry if this is all over the place, my brain just couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario)

suffocation.

summary. alhaitham can't understand what the issue with the arts is.

trigger & content warnings. alhaitham feels like a bad dad :((

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. slight angst, reverse comfort. dad!alhaitham & reader, implied kaveh & reader, implied nilou & reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. this post is an expansion of scholarly lineage.

author's thoughts. teehee.... soft angst for you all, in preparation for the worse things i have planned <3

Alhaitham truly, wholeheartedly has failed to understand what it is about the arts that has the Sages so disturbed.

He really wasn't the type to needlessly question them. In his eyes, it was more trouble than it was worth. Being unnecessarily difficult would only bring trouble to himself and his household. Their stance on the arts didn't affect him, it didn't seem to affect Kaveh all that badly, but [Name]...

It affected his child.

Too young to voice their opinion in a way that was safe and effective like Kaveh did, yet also too old to remain blissfully unaware of how stifling the world truly was. The Sages' stance on anything even remotely creative affected his child very deeply, because they were very aware of it, yet could not do anything to combat it.

And his child—Gods, he swore they were a talent to be beheld. From Kaveh always, always ranting to him about how skilled they were and how they had so much potential to be one of the greatest minds in Sumeru both academically and artistically (Alhaitham can't really tell if Kaveh is exaggerating or not, but he wouldn't put it past his child to be so brilliant), to Nilou gushing to him about how she just adored getting to teach them and how quick they learned... he couldn't help but begin to wonder. To question.

What right did the Sages have to suppress the artistic side of Sumeru?

What right did they have to suppress his child's brilliance? His child's, of all people's. He was appalled at the thought, really. He was offended on their behalf, though he did not let it show.

When his coat went missing, he didn't think much of it. He'd assumed it was Kaveh's doing at first—it wouldn't be the first time the Architect left in a hurry and took the wrong things with him—but his theory was disproven in a few mere hours.

His child soon returned his coat to him with an excited smile.

He was quick to notice the vaguely glimmery shine of green thread, embroidered skillfully along the edges, and—

And his heart broke apart in his chest. He knew he wouldn't be able to boast, to tell his curious coworkers that the embroidery was his child's beautiful work. It would get him in trouble. It would get them in trouble.

What kind of father was he, cruelly hiding his child's talent from the world? What kind of father was he? What kind of father would fail so horribly, as he was now, to uplift his child? Circumstance be damned.

What kind of father was he to be behaving this way?

Somehow, they seemed to read his mind.

"It's not really your fault, baba," they told him. "Anyway, I didn't embroider it for praise. I embroidered it because I thought it would look nice on you."

His coat was gingerly discarded off to the side, and his arms were around his child before they could even process what had happened.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion's drabbles 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #platonic alhaitham x reader

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seeingivy · 11 months ago

Text

out of the woods

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things.

because despite it all, if anyone was allowed to fall straight into despair – if anyone had the right to – it would be him.

but he simply can’t.

only because every time he finds himself at the edge of the cliff, there’s always something pulling him back.

a bratty six year old with spiky hair, his smiley older sister, or you – his beloved coworker that he, by the grace of god, charmed right into his hand. a bored salesman, an over-enthusiastic pink-haired high school student, and the ingredients to rice balls.

he supposes that’s why the words don’t hit him. that every other time, there were two, four, or six hands pulling him back. but the depths of this won’t impact anyone the way it would impact him. that he’d fall on his own this time.

there would be a pair of hands missing.

all he can think about is that the chairs in the ward are rather uncomfortable, that all hospitals have the same, shitty fluorescent lights, and that megumi’s probably wondering why the two of you haven’t called him to check on him after his mission yet.

that you would have made some shitty joke about sitting in his lap instead of sitting in the chairs, that you’d complain the lighting in the room was too dingy to take any good pictures, and that you’d call megumi the second you knew he was home.

“so when will she remember?” gojo asks.

shoko looks at him, steely eyes staring back into his, and it’s enough to push him over the edge. he can tell there won’t be any pulling this time.

“we have no idea of knowing when she’ll be out of the woods. it could be three days for all we know.” shoko states.

“or three years.” gojo states.

shoko swallows hard.

“or three years.” shoko affirms.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, the slow walk to the edge of the cliff, with everything looming below him – the mere fact that he could sense that something went wrong when kugisaki returned from her mission alone.

second, the pause right at the edge, where the rocks begin to crumble under his feet. there’s a wide expanse in front of him, ice cold water that he could plunge into at any second, and he can slightly feel himself leaning forward – someone telling him straightforwardly, shoko’s warm hands on his shoulders when he explained.

and lastly, the plunge. it’s cold air obliterating his ears as he falls, the crush so hard that he can barely stand when it happens. and he makes no efforts to stand back up once he’s fallen, because for all he knows, his limbs are broken – when he has to sleep in his bed without you for the first time.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest things, until he doesn’t. because the woman he’s spent four years loving doesn’t even remember who he is.

the first thing you remember is icy blue eyes. in some object permanence, child-like type of way, it’s the only thing that makes you feel safe now.

that and the fact that he’s always here.

“okay, y/n. can you tell us what you remember?”

shoko is standing across from you – gloved hands on her clipboard as she holds her pen firmly in her hand.

“my name is y/n l/n. i’m a jujutsu sorcerer and a teacher at jujutsu tech. i lost my memory three months ago on a mission with one of my students when i got struck by a curse.”

you try not to visibly wince. or make long pauses. only because it makes shoko and satoru’s faces droop a little more when you do. recalling the memories gets easier, more repetitive as time goes on, but it still feels like a warm sting rod is hitting the raw parts of your brain at times.

“do you remember the student’s name?” shoko asks.

“kugisaki.”

“okay, that’s good. do you know who we are?” she asks.

the instruction is helpful. the questions feel like a soft guidance – like each of your memories has been placed in a room that you need to unlock and that she’s presenting you right at the doorstep of the room.

“you’re shoko. my doctor. but we were friends before in school.” you add.

“that’s right. what about him?”

you look over at satoru, at the way he’s stiffly sitting in the chair next to you.

every time you look at him, the smiles are always genuine. soft and sweet – always accompanied with a gentle nod to encourage you. but you can tell from his posture, from the darkness under his eyes, that it must bother him all greatly.

though, he has every right to be upset, to be tired.

“that’s satoru. he was here when i woke up. and he’s my husband.”

shoko scratches on the clipboard before she gives you a smile.

“that’s good. anything else?”

you frown.

“no. no, i don’t think so.” you murmur.

she gives you a nod, as she sets the clipboard down. and when she starts rummaging through her drawers, you feel your heart sink at what comes next.

“wait. wait, can we not do that today?”

shoko looks back at you, quickly flickering her gaze to satoru, before she meets your eyes again.

“it’s really best if we try little by little, everyday. i need to be careful when we use reverse cursed technique on something so malleable as a brain and memories, so it needs to be in small amounts. but consistent. we can’t skip and lose precious time.”

you look over at satoru, reaching for his wrist. his skin is searing and warm under your fingertips, and you squeeze hard over his pulse point.

please.

satoru gives you a nod, before sighing, and looking back up at shoko.

“can i talk to her alone?” he asks.

shoko gives him a curt nod, before shuffling out of the room and sliding the door closed. you look back at satoru, as he gestures for you to talk.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position with your friend….i mean, our friend.” you clarify.

“s’okay, bug. what’s wrong?” he murmurs.

satoru watches as you squint your eyes, an elongated pause in your response.

one of shoko’s directions to him was to try to sprinkle normalcy in as much as he could – nicknames, memories, common phrases – in hopes that something would trigger in your memory and help you remember.

he’s supplied you with each story when you don’t remember and he can tell that you’re trying to commit them all the memory again. to retrieve the memories that he’s told you.

“bug.” you state.

“that’s right.”

“because…”

“we were on a mission and-” satoru adds.

“and the curse was a bug.” you finish.

satoru smiles brightly. it almost feels like praise, when he looks at you so warmly. when you can remember something.

“big insect type thing.” satoru confirms.

“and i hate bugs. so you started calling me bug because…”

you frown.

“i forgot why you did that.” you state.

satoru scoffs.

“it’s called flirting, princess. though, that was never your forté.”

you smile.

“you have horrible game.” you respond.

you can tell that the tiny gripes make satoru really happy. you recall shoko telling you a story about how it related to something from before, but you can’t really recall exactly what it was. regardless, the smile you always get feels good.

“oh yeah?” he asks.

“mhm. you think calling the girl you like a bug is flirting?” you state.

“girl i love. and you can’t even accost me for it, because it worked. we’re married, idiot.”

the blunt admission makes your chest hurt. only because you can tell that he means it earnestly.

and that it must be painstakingly true – that satoru gojo loves you – because he’s still sitting here three months later, when you can barely remember his name at times. or the fact that you clearly must have been in a very loving relationship with him if he’s still sitting here with you when he could, and maybe should have, run.

you squeeze hard on his pulse point again, your hands still curled around his wrist. he uncurls his hand from your hold before locking his fingers in with yours and squeezing your hand back.

“you’re like a space heater, satoru.” you state.

“it’s part of my charm. when we still slept in the same bed, you’d always put your ice cold feet on my legs and try to steal my warmth.” he states.

“and you’d let me?” you ask.

he smiles.

“and i’d let you.” he affirms.

you swallow hard.

“sorry. i’ll do the treatment thing. i just hate how it makes me feel after. s’kind of like…my brain got fried? and sometimes it jumbles things up more so i feel like i’ve barely made any progress. and….and i want to remember you all really badly i just-”

you feel the warmth on your cheek this time, his nimble fingers transferring warmth to your face this time.

“we know. just take your time, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

six months after the fact, satoru throws you a birthday party.

it’s hard not to hold onto him like a tether when you go out in big crowds – the overstimulation nauseating at times. and it makes your chest swell that he firstly, realizes it, and second, refuses to leave your side because of it. you lock your fingers in with his as he lightly guides you through each of the people in the room.

“y/n sensei!”

you swallow hard as four people present themselves to you, a harsh squeeze on satoru’s fingers. he obliges quickly, a hand on your back as you shake your head. pink hair, brown eyes.

“you’re choso?” you ask.

you watch his face fall quickly, before he shakes it off.

“no, no. this is choso. but you were close, he’s my brother! we talked about him last time i saw you.” he responds, gesturing to the boy at his left.

“right. i’m sorry. it’s todo.” you state.

“no, no. he’s todo.” the boy responds again, this time gesturing to the boy at his right.

you feel another hand loop around you – cold hands on your shoulders – that you welcome. that you easily recognize as one of the other constants, besides satoru.

“ignore yuuji. and i promise, it’s just as confusing when you can remember it too.” megumi states.

you smile.

“are you flattering me, megumi?” you ask.

satoru reaches forward, and much to megumi’s dismay, flicks his forehead.

“you’re such a mama’s boy.”

“oh, leave him alone, satoru.” you state.

the group of them smile, even the ends of megumi’s mouth upturning, as satoru feigns shock by clutching his hands to his chest. you give them all a smile as they break up into their own conversation.

satoru gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen and you give the group of them a smile as you walk away. you push yourself onto the counter as satoru reaches for the birthday hat and a tiny little book before he makes residence in between your legs.

“okay, you ready, bug?” he asks.

“for?”

“you love to take pictures. lots of them. you’re kind of the sentimental type. so…”

satoru hands you the book as you start to flip through all the pages. each one has four little polaroids in it – of you and him, megumi sprinkled in here, with little captions on each of them.

new year’s 2021

megumi’s sweet sixteen

shotgun wedding :D

“shotgun wedding?” you ask.

“we had a quickie court wedding before we actually got married because we couldn’t wait. anyways! we have to-”

“wait.” you state.

satoru stops, bright blue eyes staring into yours expectantly. you can tell that he’s trying to brush it off quickly from the way he’s jittery as he shakes the camera in his hands.

“i know you don’t like to remember memories like this one because they make you sad but-”

“they don’t make me sad.” satoru states.

“don’t- don’t lie. i can hear you crying sometimes in the other room after we talk. and i feel bad but, but maybe it’ll click or something?” you ask.

satoru sighs, before giving you a nod. and he recounts one of the best days of his life, in as much detail as he can.

“what if we got married tomorrow?” you ask.

satoru looks over at you, your glasses still perched on your nose as you work through the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. satoru always thought that it was a little bit corny that you did it right before you went to bed, like a little elderly lady, but knew better than to poke fun at your “enrichment time in your enclosure” as you so poignantly termed it.

“huh?” he asks.

“like. went to court. got married.” you shrug.

satoru reaches for the newspaper, before quickly shoving it straight to the side – not short of any protests from you – as he crawls straight into your lap, nose only a few inches away from yours.

“i was still doing that, idiot.” you state, cupping his face in your hands as you squeeze hard.

“you want to marry me?” he asks, voice laced with excitement.

you scoff.

“are you dumb? we’re engaged, satoru.”

“but you want to marry me. tomorrow?” he asks.

satoru watches as you pause, eyes so full of love that it makes his chest hurt.

“dunno. was just thinking about it.”

“and?”

“stop trying to get me to say something cute.” you state.

“so you admit it. there’s something cute to say?”

you smile, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“no.” you state.

“c’mon. we’ll do it tomorrow if you tell me. i’ll wear a nice suit, you can wear that silky white dress you have. have sushi with megs after, he can be our witness. pick up rings, get a bouquet on the way.”

you smile brightly.

“you’ll really do it?” you ask.

“of course. s’nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” he whispers.

you lean forward, pressing a warm kiss to his lips.

“i just don’t like that you’re not my husband already. and i get the whole big wedding and clan members and blah blah blah but…i just want to be married to you now. i don’t really care how it happens, i just want that day to be here already.”

satoru smiles, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

“it’s settled then. we’re getting married tomorrow, bug.” he responds, before pushing off of you and shuffling under the sheets.

you smile hard, following suit by placing your glasses on the nightstand and curling up into his arms.

“s’bad luck to sleep in the same bed? because that means i’ll see you tomorrow morning?” you ask.

“maybe. but who's going to keep your feet warm if i don’t sleep next to you?”

“very good point, satoru gojo.”

you look back down at the picture, pressing your fingers against the polaroid wrapped in the plastic. the two of you stayed true to your word – a plain but white dress and a simple suit – with your arms wrapped around his neck as you both cheese into the camera.

you note that glittering necklace around satoru’s neck, as you press your fingers to the chain around yours. you had the necklace when you woke up, the only other jewelry you had besides the golden little band around your ring finger – which you assumed was the wedding ring satoru gave you when you got married.

“you have one of these too?” you ask.

satoru smiles, before reaching into his shirt and pulling out the necklace. and surely but not, he has the same necklace as you with the little paper airplane charm hanging at the end.

“we couldn’t find rings on the way to the courthouse. so you picked these shitty airplane necklaces from one of the stands on the way there.” he states.

you smile, as you look down at the picture.

“and we ate with megumi after?”

“uh huh. he got really mad at us after. you kind of whined that you didn’t get a first dance so i decided to move all the furniture around to make room and kind of broke his science fair project.”

“oh my god. no wonder that kid hates you.”

“shut up. we stayed up fixing it. and he doesn’t hate me. he actually danced with us a little bit too – though it was definitely against his will.” satoru adds.

“you tease him too much. leave the poor baby alone.” you state.

satoru’s eyes go wide as he places his hands on your shoulder, the look on his face so excited as he smiles.

“y/n?”

you raise your eyebrows.

“yeah?”

his face falls just as fast.

“oh. nothing.”

you frown.

“what happened?”

“nothing. it’s stupid, i just-”

“it’s not stupid! what is it?” you ask.

he looks at you, before pulling back a little.

“i thought you remembered for a second. that’s always the line you use when i tease him – leave the poor baby alone.”

you frown.

“sorry.” you whisper.

he shrugs.

“s’okay. it’s kind of nice if you think about it.” he states.

“how?”

“well. it’s obvious that big parts of us are shaped by the people that are around us. your best friends, your co-workers, your partners.”

you reach for his hand.

“you wonder how much of it is the stuff you experienced that makes you act the way that you do and how much of it is actually you, you know?” he states.

“exactly! sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt, but-but i think about that all the time. like if i can’t remember, will i still be the same person i was before? the person you all loved? or if this is going to change me so drastically that i’ll be someone new.”

satoru smiles.

“the former.”

“huh?”

“you’ll be the same person you were before. cheesy as hell, but the cuteness will make up for it.”

you roll your eyes.

“how are you so sure?”

he pauses, before placing his hand in your palm.

“one of my favorite things about you is that you were, or are, really compassionate. we always joked that megumi was our kid, but really. you were like his mom – understood him in ways i didn’t, always knew what he was thinking and how to fix it too.” he states.

“yeah?”

“and one of the things megumi hates most is when i tease him in front of yuuji. s’got a big crush on him.” he states.

you look over at the two of them, at megumi and yuuji laughing at choso three feet away and try your best to recall every memory of the two of them together. if megumi always smiled so brightly when he was around him.

“you got real mad at me. told me to leave your poor baby alone. you’ve always cared for him in that way and i can tell that you still do. you might not remember him, but he’s still your baby. you might not remember who you are but you’re still you.”

it’s silent.

“you’ll be the same. you’re still going to be the girl i loved and you’re still going to be my wife.” he whispers, warm tears in his eyes.

his voice wavers on the latter part of the statement.

almost like he doesn’t believe it.

you place your hands on his shoulders and squeeze hard.

“satoru.” you whisper.

he shakes his head.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to say it like that, i just-” he states.

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard.

“from the type of guy you are, i can tell that i probably fell in love with you all over again hundred times in one day.”

satoru smiles, a tear spilling as you quickly wipe the wetness on his cheek.

“this isn’t any different. i’m not sure about a lot of things, but-but this i am. your eyes are the first thing i remember from when i woke up. i’m almost positive they’ll be the last thing i remember when we’re old wrinkly people too.” you murmur.

satoru wraps his arms around you, tucking your face into his neck, as he squeezes you hard into his frame. you can feel his heart racing underneath you, his pulse point rapid as he slowly breathes in. and surely, it comes to a standstill.

“what did i say? told you that you’d still be cheesy as hell.” satoru states.

you scoff.

“does the cuteness make up for it?” you ask.

“a hundred percent.” satoru responds, before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

satoru takes the picture, after snagging one of the little party hats and securing it on top of your hair, and quickly scribbling on the developed polaroid before tucking it into the book. satoru runs off to the little cake, quickly lighting all the candles as you take the quick second to look down at the picture.

a very forgetful bug turns twenty-six <;3

“hey, i’m home!”

satoru shuffles back into the apartment, arms aching and sore from his mission, as he rummages through the kitchen. the fridge is empty leave for a few condiments and he makes a mental note to order takeout.

“did you want to order something?” he calls out, halfheartedly registering you walking towards him as he shuts the fridge door.

he’s taken aback when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind, your arms nearly squeezing the breath out of him.

“ow, bug. you’re hugging too hard.”

he turns around only to find tearfilled eyes staring back at him, immediately dropping his phone in his hand to cup your cheeks.

“woah, hey. you okay?” he asks.

you shake your head, bringing your eyes to your sockets to rub the wetness away. you can barely say the words, the pounding in your head and racing in your chest not coming to the standstill.

“what’s wrong?” he asks.

“do-do you remember the first time you cried in front of me?” you ask.

satoru pulls back, albeit a little bit confused, as he frowns.

“um. let me try and think. maybe at our real wedding?” he asks.

“no. no, that’s not right.” you whisper.

“huh?”

“you cried for the first time when megumi got hurt when he was out with nobara and yuuji. he didn’t call either of us afterwards and you were sad that maybe he didn’t need you anymore.” you state.

satoru hums in response.

“that’s right. i totally forgot. idiot got twenty stitches and didn’t think to tell either of us.”

you deflate, putting your hands on his shoulders as you squeeze.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“you forgot. but i remembered.” you whisper.

satoru brings his hands to your sides, squeezing hard as you see his eyes - icy blue - filled with warm tears.

“y/n. are-are you serious?” he whispers.

“yeah. s’all kind of fuzzy and i have a really bad headache but i remember you and-”

you can barely finish your sentence because satoru’s hands – now cupped around your neck – have pulled his face flesh with yours and he’s pressing his lips to yours. it’s enough to shock you to your core, nearly stumbling in his arms, as you feel his tears start to fall onto your face.

“you’re back. you-you remember me.” he whispers.

“yeah. yeah, i am. i do.” you whisper, nearly hiccuping from the lack of air reaching your lungs from the tears.

you rest your forehead against his, the two of you heaving in tandem as satoru runs his hands all over you – on your cheeks, your biceps, the length of your back.

“i know that it was still you before. and-and i still loved you the same, of course i did – you’re my wife. but you don’t know how fucking happy i am that you’re-”

“you’re insane, satoru. i can’t believe you…you stayed. and you-”

“you’re mine. of course i stayed.”

“i know, but…i didn’t even remember you. and now that i look back on it, sweetheart. you must have been so upset and alone, you…you barely even smiled. or made any shitty jokes. i’m sorry i didn’t notice.”

“you didn’t have anything to go off of. s’okay.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, his face tucked into yours as you run your hands in his hair and softly murmur into his ear. you’re not sure when the crying starts, when he starts trembling under you, but you have every intent to keep him in your arms as long as he needs to.

“satoru, you did so good.”

“yeah?”

“so good, sweetheart.” you murmur.

satoru frowns.

“i tried really hard to keep it together for you. i-i didn’t want to make you feel bad or that-”

“you did keep it together for me. but you can let go now, i’m here to catch you.”

it’s enough to leave him sobbing in your arms, your quiet whispering in his ears not reaching him. he’s positive that he’s made you say it a hundred times at this point – that you love him – and he’s more than thankful that you’re willing to oblige.

satoru realizes there’s three stages to it, two weeks after the fact.

first, it’s the hand being extended to him. it was so quiet that he barely realized it at first – the fact that you were trying to pull him back, the first second that you remembered. warm hands squeezing his frame, the same way they always had.

second, the realization. the water he was drowning in was so cold that he could barely remember the extent of the warmth and when it returned, it was so sweltering that he could barely remember that he was freezing a few seconds ago. sweet honey eyes – being so full of love that he can see it pouring out of your eyes when you look at him.

and lastly, being pulled up. it’s warm air tickling his skin this time – the smell of your perfume, cold feet on top of his when he goes to bed, a kiss on the forehead, two little airplane necklaces, matching golden wedding bands.

satoru gojo finds hope in the simplest of things. in the mere fact that you were looking at him.

an: our very first 1989 song!!! I thought ironically that it would be very funny if I did an amnesia au to out of the woods. and then I accidentally wrote all of it.

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