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swappermanent · 2 days ago

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Raw

I love fucking guys raw.

I mean, most muscle tops like me do. It just feels better—the glide, the sensitivity, the tightness—it’s almost intoxicating. But for me, there’s something more to it, something deeper.

You see, I have this ability. I can possess guys, make their bodies my own. Take control, live in their skin, feel their power, their desires. But there’s a catch—I can only do it if I get my cum deep enough inside them.

I don’t talk about it much. Hell, who would believe me? It sounds like some twisted porn fantasy, but for me, it’s real. It’s been years since I last did it, though. Decades, maybe. I’ve been this guy—this towering, muscle-bound hunk—for so long now, I don’t even remember what I looked like before.

Not that I��m complaining. This body’s a goddamn masterpiece. Broad shoulders, sculpted pecs, abs like a carved statue. Every time I walk into a gym or a club, heads turn. People stare. Some with awe, others with hunger. It’s addictive, the power this body commands.

But lately, I’ve been feeling… restless. Something’s shifted inside me. I used to thrive on the dominance, on the control. But now? Now I want something else. Something I haven’t had in a long time.

I want to give up control.

But I couldn’t find anyone worth giving up my body for until I met Bastian.

He was the perfect type of submissive—super muscular in all the right ways but smaller in stature, like his body was built to fit against mine. He had a confidence that was rare in guys like him, but when I got close enough, I could see it in his eyes: that flicker of curiosity, that hunger to be taken and owned.

We met at a straight bar of all places, a spot neither of us belonged in. I was nursing a whiskey, my usual method of blending in, when I noticed him across the room. He was leaning against the bar, his tight black tee clinging to a body that screamed gym rat but didn’t quite cross into the intimidating territory of mine. His dark hair was messy in a deliberate way, his sharp jawline dusted with a five o’clock shadow. He caught my eye once, then twice, and I knew.

After a few glances exchanged and a casual approach, we started talking. The conversation was light at first—what brought us to the bar, work, the usual stuff. But there was an unspoken tension between us, something electric in the way his gaze lingered on my arms, my chest.

“You’re not really into this scene, are you?” I’d asked, smirking over the rim of my glass.

He chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Not really. I guess I was hoping to run into someone like you.”

That was all it took. Numbers exchanged, a few texts over the next couple of days, and then he invited me over.

Which brings us to now.

I’ve got Bastian bent over the kitchen counter, his shirt tossed somewhere behind us, his gym shorts shoved down to his knees. His muscular back flexes under my hands as I press my body against his, one arm wrapping around his torso to pull him closer.

And good for him—he was responsible and made me wrap it up. You could tell he was doing it out of obligation, not because he really wanted to. He probably had a scare recently, something that left its mark. I could work with that.

After a solid amount of foreplay—my lips trailing over his neck, his hands gripping my biceps like he was hanging on for dear life—I finally positioned myself behind him. I slicked myself up, rolling the condom over and coating it with lube. Then, I pressed forward, slowly, feeling the resistance of his tightness giving way to me.

He moaned as I slipped inside him, a sound that sent a shiver straight through me. His back arched, muscles rippling under his smooth, tan skin. I groaned in response, the sensation overwhelming even through the barrier between us. Damn, this kid was tight. Perfectly tight. Like his body was made to take me.

I looked down, my hands roaming over his toned form as I moved deeper. His abs were firm under my fingers, his pecs flexing with every breath he took. My touch drifted lower, tracing the sharp lines of his obliques, my fingertips gliding over the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.

Damn, I needed to be him so bad.

The thought hit me like a wave, more intense than anything I’d felt in years. It wasn’t just lust or a passing fantasy. It was that familiar, burning desire—the craving to take over, to sink into him completely, to make his body mine.

I leaned down, my chest pressing against his back, my lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect,” I murmured, my voice low and rough.

He turned his head slightly, his face flushed, his lips parted as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re… incredible.”

I smirked, my hips moving in a steady rhythm now, each thrust making him shudder beneath me. My fingers tightened on his waist, holding him steady as I claimed him. The pull inside me was growing stronger, the energy crackling just beneath my skin. I could feel it, the connection between us deepening with every second.

“Relax,” I whispered, my tone softening as I slowed my pace, giving him a moment to adjust. “You’re doing so good for me.”

His only response was a breathy moan, his body melting under my touch. He was surrendering completely, and I could feel it—the trust, the vulnerability. It was intoxicating.

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the moment, in the feeling of him around me. My power was there, waiting, ready to take him if I wanted. All I needed to do was get thi condom off.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whisper, my voice low and soothing against his ear as I press him further into the counter. My hands glide down his sides, feeling the way his body responds to every movement I make.

As the rhythm builds, I let the words slip out casually, my tone almost teasing. “You know… it’d feel even better if we lost this condom.” My hand brushes his hip as I emphasize my point. He tenses slightly, just enough for me to notice.

“No,” he mutters, his voice soft but firm. “We’re keeping it on.”

I let it go, for now. Shifting positions, I move him to the bed and pull him upright, his back flush against my chest as I guide him to straddle me. He moves with me willingly, his legs wrapping around my waist, his arms gripping my shoulders for balance. The heat between us is electric, his body warm and pliant against mine.

As I thrust into him, I bring it up again, this time leaning in close, my lips grazing his neck. “You know you’d love it if daddy took this off,” I murmur, my voice dripping with confidence.

His breath hitches, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “No,” he says again, but there’s hesitation in his voice now, a flicker of doubt.

I smirk, pressing my advantage. “Come on, Bastian. You know it’d feel so much better. For both of us.” My hips roll slowly, deliberately, drawing another moan from his lips. “Don’t you trust me?”

His response is a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. I keep pushing, my words soft and coaxing. “You’re so tight, baby. Imagine how good it’d feel without this in the way. Just me and you. Nothing else.”

He shakes his head, but the movement is weak, almost reluctant. “No… we can’t…”

I keep up the pressure, the words spilling out between breaths as I drive into him. Ugh, I needed to become this kid so bad. “You know you want it. You know you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His protests grow quieter, less convincing, and I can feel him starting to waver. I glance down, snapping at the edge of the condom with my thumb, rolling it slightly down my shaft. The latex stretches but doesn’t give, still clinging to me. He feels it, glancing over his shoulder with a soft gasp.

“Hey,” he says, his tone half-hearted. “What are you…?”

“Relax,” I murmur, holding him steady as I keep moving. “It’s still on.”

His protests don’t come again, or if they do, they’re lost in the sounds of his own moans and the slap of skin against skin. I keep it mostly on, the plastic rolled down just enough to feel the faintest hint of skin on skin when I slid all the way in. My hands grip his waist, pulling him closer, harder, as I push him right to the edge with me.

The tension builds as I pull out of him, the faint stretch of the condom still clinging to me. Without hesitation, I roll it off, making sure he sees me do it. I hold his gaze, the moment heavy with unspoken desire.

His lips part slightly, his breathing ragged as he watches me, his body still trembling from everything we’ve done so far. I smirk, letting the condom drop to the side as I position myself back at the entrance to his hole. My cock, now bare and slick, presses gently against him, teasing just the tip.

He looks at me, his expression conflicted—his body betraying how badly he wants this, even as his lips remain silent. I press forward just enough to make him gasp, then pull back again, repeating the motion to keep him on edge.

“Daddy knows you want his raw cock inside you,” I say, my voice soft but commanding. “I need you to say it.”

His mouth opens like he’s about to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he grips the bed tighter, his knuckles whitening as he fights the urge to give in.

I chuckle, leaning down slightly to brush my lips against his temple. “You don’t have to be shy, baby. Just say it, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

Still, he doesn’t say a word, but his body is speaking for him—the way his legs tremble, the way his back arches just enough to push himself closer to me. I keep teasing him with shallow presses, going just a bit deeper each time.

Until… oops.

I’m all the way in.

I stay there for a moment, letting him adjust, my cock buried to the hilt. His breath catches, his eyes wide as he looks up at me. I can feel his body trembling under mine, his resistance melting away with every second that passes.

I bring my hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. My thumb brushes over his skin as I lean in close, my lips hovering near his ear. “What do you want me to do?” I whisper, my tone low and intimate.

For a moment, there’s only silence, his breathing the only sound in the room. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper but full of need. “I want you to fuck me.”

A slow smile spreads across my face as I press my forehead against his. “Good boy.”

And then I start to move. Slowly at first, savoring the way his body tightens around me, the way he gasps and moans with every thrust. My hands grip his hips, holding him steady as I pick up the pace, each movement deliberate, purposeful, claiming him completely.

“God, you feel so good,” I murmur, my voice thick with pleasure. His hands claw at the counter as I drive into him, his body rocking with every thrust.

This is what I’ve been waiting for—what I’ve been craving. The raw, unfiltered connection, the way he’s giving himself to me completely.

And I give him everything I have in return.

I’ve got him on his stomach now, his back glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing with every thrust. He’s gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles white as I fuck him hard, driving into him with everything I have. His moans echo through the room, mixing with my own guttural groans as I get closer and closer to the edge.

I feel the tension in my body coiling tight, that familiar electric buzz building in my core. He clenches around me, and that’s it—I can’t hold back anymore. With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep as I can and finish inside him. The release is overwhelming, a wave of pure ecstasy that makes my vision blur and my breath catch in my throat.

And then it happens.

I feel it—the shift. My consciousness slipping, unraveling, like a thread being pulled loose. The world tilts, the sounds around me fading to a dull hum. For a moment, everything is weightless, disorienting, and then… nothing.

When I open my eyes again, everything feels different. The weight of my body, the angle of my vision, even the way the cool air brushes against my skin—it’s all unfamiliar. I blink, disoriented, my hands instinctively moving to press against the counter beneath me.

But they’re not my hands.

They’re his.

I’m in his body.

I glance down at myself—no, at him. My old body stands over me, towering, muscular, and glistening with sweat. The realization hits me like a freight train, the shock momentarily numbing my senses. My former body – again inhabited by its original owner completely unaware of the decade possession he just emerged from – looks down with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Well,” he says, his voice low and dripping with amusement. “Looks like you finally gave in.”

I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat. My old body leans down, one strong hand cupping my—his—cheek, the other trailing down my—his—spine.

“You feel amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening just enough to make me shiver. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s positioning himself again, the head of his cock already pressing back against me—against him.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, smirking as he slides into me.

The sensation is overwhelming, raw and intense in a way I never could have imagined. I moan—his voice, not mine, escaping my lips. My old body moves with the same confidence, the same dominance I’d always wielded. And now, I’m the one underneath, taking it all.

It’s exhilarating. Terrifying. Addictive.

And it’s just the beginning.

Inspired by Sharok and Bastian.

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vqler · 3 days ago

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Stuck?

Zenless Zone Zero [switches Seth/Wise]

a/n: for one and only @wertzunge. happy belated birthday once again! your santa nicely showed me your wishlist a few days ago, so i decided to experiment a little. hope you'll enjoy ദ്ദി• ˕ •マ.ᐟ

ps: some tickly art under keep reading. i was writing it in a wildly sleepy condition, so forgive me mistakes brothers and sisters ________________________________

Night. Tail. A fluffy, large tail flickered back and forth. Back and forth... Almost hypnotizing a random passerby, who turned out to be Proxy’s Phaeton. Wise thoughtfully watched it, as well as the lower half of the body sticking out right from the wall.

“Ugh... Come on!... How…” an annoyed male muffled voice sounded from the other side reached Wise's ears. Although even without the voice it was clear who got into such an... interesting situation.

“How?..” Wise repeated, and Seth's tail, stuck in the wall, instantly wagged stronger.

“W-Wise! Manager, is that you?!” Seth rejoiced, slapping his palms on the wall from his side. He recognized his friend, but then continued sadly, “ugh, can't hear well. My ears are on the other side of this problem... Hopefully, it’s you.”

"Right, it's me, but...." Wise raised an eyebrow, looking at the fidgeting butt of the wall's victim, "...are you sure it's a good idea to rest in this hole instead of doing your night duty?"

If only he could hear the heaviness of the sigh on the other side, he would probably run out of air in his lungs himself.

"You may think this is absurd, but... it's all a cat."

"A cat?”, either not hearing, or not believing, Wise asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, a cat! White!"

"..."

"Not me," the policeman hastened to clarify, realizing that he was only burying himself deeper in a... hole. "A street cat was running here. It stopped next to me while I was on patrol, and seemed to want something. Well, I leaned towards it... And then it snatched my walkie-talkie."

Wise blinked with an idiotic expression on his face, listening intently to Seth's wagging tail.

"I tried to take it away, but it wasn't easy. After a couple of minutes of chasing, the cat saw this same hole and jumped through it. So this is how I..."

"Don't tell me you thought you would slide through this hole. With your sizes."

Seth went silent for a moment.

"It happened instinctively," the only thing he managed to mumble as an excuse.

Wise nodded understandingly, forgetting that the other one couldn't see him. He looked around and noticed that there was no end to the wall on either side. No wonder that Seth didn't go around — the cat would've long ago disappeared into the shelter, disassembled the radio into parts and reassembled it several times.

"And here I thought there should've been racial solidarity between you two."

"We are completely different species!" Seth shook himself and then sighed again: "Could you call Zhu Yuan or... anyone?"

“Sorry, I forgot my phone at home,” for some reason he wanted to lie and see what else would come of it.

“Oh? How so?! W-well... Then take it from my pants.”

So he did. Not as Seth expected though.

"W-Wise! It's in the back pocket!" the catman fidgeted from offbeat sensations when Wise tried to feel for the phone in the side pockets, and even somewhere in front.

"Ah, right," not feeling particularly guilty Wise moved his hand from the sides to his lower back muscles. And yet not here, since the outline of the phone was clearly visible and far from the proxy's cunning fingers. As his hand traveled down poor Lowell's backside, Wise felt a twitch and a puff every now and then. At first, he only found it cute, but along the way he quickly realized what was what, and came up with a plan.

"Tell me, hypothetically... If I called for help, but a little later? Would it be?.."

"...a violation of the law by a citizen in relation to another? Especially to someone who is a representative of the Security Service and who desperately needs help?" he somehow enthusiastically recalled. Seth loved rules. And he unconditionally loved to obey them, as well as subject others to them.

"Right. Would it be?.."

Seth would have gladly answered, but instead of words, a groan escaped his tongue. Wise moved his hand a little lower and tickled the root of the tail, while the other hand was playfully pinching his hips, as if "trying to find something". Seth, who was barely standing on his toes, instinctively tried to move away, but only pressed himself harder into the hole in the wall.

"Y-yes! Wise, aha- hahaha, please!" he already howled embarrassedly, twisting in another and senseless attempt to escape from captivity. "And... such actions are unacceptable!.. I can equate them to... to..."

"Harassment!" Wise jokingly exclaimed in a deliberately serious tone, and then began to actively tickle Seth right under the ribs.

Explosive feelings. Loud laughter and the thud of fists hitting the wall came from the other side of the hole. Seth wriggled as best he could, and if friction hadn’t gotten in the way, he might have slipped out by now, since any caught fish could learn such hardcore fidgeting.

"Yes!!.. Aha- HAHAhaHahaaa! Stah- thihis instant!!" Oh, how adorably pleasant this unknown laughter sounded to Wise's ears.

"Don't worry, Seth. I'm not doing anything unlawful. Just trying to help." Wise grinned and squeezed his sides upper, almost digging into the hole in a way to his armpits. Still, it was too tight. "Who knows when others will come if I call them. We can get you out with our own efforts!"

Seth continued to fidget and laugh desperately, but the mention of his own efforts tugged at his workaholic streak. He never liked to be a burden to anyone, and was always a hard worker, so he mentally agreed that he could try his best here too. But these thoughts were somewhere too deep, and it was they who stopped the rookie officer from yet another appeal to the law. On the surface of his emotions, Seth wanted to kill Wise.

"Yohou'll pay for thihis!!"

"Sure," Wise smiled to himself and went for the thighs. Seth’s body was almost built for squeezing everything in it, as Wise thought. And, fortunately, absolutely everything was incredibly ticklish for him, at least right now, when he couldn't even predict the next move of his "rescuer".

"By the way, Seth…" Wise started, looking down at the very enticingly standing flimsy feet. "I actually haven't seen you without gloves before. Do your hands and feet look like paws by chance?"

A blush spread hotly across his face, filling every pore with an embarrassment the guy had never known before. Seth understood where this dialogue was going and was momentarily horrified at the thought that he would have to go through tickling in the spot he himself can't touch without shaking. "Regular human feet, I swear! You don't have to check!"

Obviously, Wise wasn't satisfied with this answer. Or maybe, on the contrary, he was more than satisfied? In any case, he felt the need to take off those shoes and check properly. First, by teasingly sliding there with one finger, and then briskly wiggling with the rest to the accompaniment of confused laughter, squeals and wall shaking... Of course, in the name of salvation.

~~~

Next day, Wise didn't receive any papers or messages about reporting to Security. Instead, Security came for him.

"Manager Wise is awake?" Seth asked his yawning little sister, who was just coming down from the second floor of the video rental store she and her brother shared.

Glancing at the Security officer in surprise, Belle took a step back, finding a higher step with her foot.

"Wise! What have you done tonight?! Here…"

"Thank you," Seth nodded briefly to the slightly frightened girl and went upstairs.

The open door obviously led to his sister's room, which meant there was another one. Seth walked in unceremoniously, and finding Wise just awake and confused by Seth's arrival, he defiantly took out handcuffs, to which Wise reacted with a frisky jump, as if he had been stung by a dozen bees in one soft spot.

"Seth! Are you seriously going to arrest me?!"

Wise was almost ready to tear out his hair: how could this be? Is this the end? He, of course, expected that sooner or later Seth would find out about something that he should have, but to repeat the scenario drawn in his head just because of a child's prank?.. Not even that. Because of helping a friend in need out of the kindness of his heart?!

While Wise was clutching his head, rethinking his moments of connection with Seth, the officer had already managed to handcuff him.

"Not a step. I came to punish you." Seth's voice was firm, it was unclear whether it was fake or sincere. The only thing that Wise understood very well now was that frowning Seth looked extremely cute. "Justice will prevail, and you have the right… uhm, only to remain silent… if it will be possible in your situation, of course," stretching out the words, Seth was speaking very closely to Wise's ear, almost running his nose over the guy's cheek. He placed his hand on Wise's stomach and dived under the longsleeve, suddenly tickling the belly of the detainee.

That's when Wise was struck by lightning. So this is what kind of punishment he had in mind! Well, of course, Seth was his friend. Be that as it may, he was sure that this Thiren still values kindness above the letter of the law. But still, now he wondered if a fate worse than arrest awaited him. The idea of being tickled by the cat's claws gave Wise an army of goosebumps and a cold sweat down his back.

"S-Seth! You don't have to do this! I swear, I only wanted to help!" Wise muttered confusedly, backing away, but Seth held the chain of handcuffs tightly. Without waiting for an answer, Proxy rushed wherever his eyes directed him, because of which the officer was taken aback and almost fell, but never let go of the handcuffs, running after the scoundrel.

"Stop right there! You'll only make it worse for yourself if you keep resisting!" Seth shouted, chasing and tickling Wise all the way, until his victim tripped over his own foot and loudly fell to the floor.

"Seth, haha! HAhaHahahAaa!! I'm sohorry, I- ahapologize! HAHAHA!~"

It was the moment when he found it ironic that got the right to remain silent, since for the next twenty minutes of his punishment the entire neighborhood could hear Wise fighting loudly, through laughter and tears, to actually gain that right. Well, deep down he knew he deserved it. Maybe not even that deep.

#zenless zone zero #zzzero #tickling #tickle art #tickle fic #seth lowell #zzz wise #ticklish seth #ticklish wise #vqart #vqfic

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jinxyjinxer · 2 days ago

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˗ˏˋ SLUT ˎˊ˗ fucking the bratiness out of you

⟢ characters : Jayce Talis

⟢ warnings : fem!reader, semi-public, p in v, usage of "slut" and "whore", degrading, creampie

"Fuck, if you can't keep your pretty mouth shut we'll get caught for sure", Jayce groans as he drills his dick deeper and deeper into your tight core, his hips slamming against you, your moans and the slapping of skin on skin bouncing off the walls.

The two of you weren't actually supposed to be in this position right now, fucking like wild animals in a cramped storage room at a gala hosted by the Kiramman family inside their mansion. You had been such a teasing brat all night that Jayce couldn't help but take you to the next best room to fuck your sassiness out so the two could resume with the celebrations in honor of the young Kiramman girl's birthday.

It all started with some innocent gestures, rubbing your chest accentuated by your dress against his arm as you hugged it, bending over so the fabric around your ass would stretch when you picked up a snack from one of the tables and letting your hand "accidentally" brush over his sensitive spots.

As the evening progressed and the more alcohol you had in your system you grew bolder, your hand resting on his thigh dangerously close to his hardening cock trapped within its confines, letting the tips of your fingers roam over his clothed skin as the two of you conversed with other nobles of Piltover at one of the tables. When no one would look you'd get onto your tippy toes, whispering sweet nothings into Jayce's ear.

"You look so good in that suit, but I know you'd look even better without it."

"Imagine bending me over one of the tables and showing the whole room who I belonged too, how does that sound?"

"Do you like the dress I chose? It's showing off everything so nicely, I wonder how many of those old geezers wished they were in your position right now."

These and other teasing words left your mouth whenever your breath fanned over his ear when you leaned in.

Your initial plan was to tease Jayce until you two came home so you'd finally get that rough pace you had begged him to put on whenever you two fucked, but to your chagrin — or should you say thanks to your luck? — he granted you your wish way earlier than you had anticipated, dragging you into some empty storage room in a remote area of the Kiramman mansion, not even caring to look or even properly close the door before he hoisted up your skirt and let his pants and underwear fall to his knees, slamming his dick into your already wet cunt without any preparation, his thickness splitting you open painfully but Jayce didn't care, not when you've been such a slutty brat all evening long.

"This is what you wanted, no? Wanted me to fuck you in some dirty chamber for anyone who's walk past to hear?", he growled into your ear as he set his thrusts at a brutal and relentless pace, fucking you like he had never before.

"Yeah, you slut can't even talk right now. You're really just all bark but no bite", Jayce mused at how fucked dumb you already were, his lenght slamming into your cervix any time he pushed back in, making your eyes roll back and drool drip down the corners of your mouth onto your cleavage.

"Better keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll have to shut it myself", he growled as loud moans kept slipping past your lips from how dizzy his penetration made you feel.

"Fuck we're going to get caught because of a slut like you", he rasped, dick throbbing between your walls from how tight you were gripping him. Every word that left Jayce's mouth somehow degraded you, calling you various words he'd never dare to say to anyone, not even you, if it weren't for the situation the two of you were in.

"I'm gonna fucking fill you up and you'll walk around with my seed in your pussy, got that? And don't you dare to try to get it all out of you behind my back. When we're home I expect you to be still filled up so I can remind you once again what a fucking dirty whore you are", he leaned in and whispered into your ear, hips beginning to stutter as he nearest his orgasm, his hips thrusting into you at an inhuman pace and making you tip over the edge, creaming all around his shaft.

With a last groan leaving his mouth he buried himself until the tilt, painting your walls white in thick ropes.

#ᯓ★ jinxed requests #ᯓ★ jinxed writing #arcane smut #arcane x reader #arcane x you #jayce smut #jayce x reader #jayce x you #arcane #jayce talis #arcane jayce #jayce arcane

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formulawolff · 2 days ago

Text

time off — t.w.

pairing -> sick toto x reader

word count -> 1.1k

warnings -> toto is sick, lots of hurt + comfort, slight cursing, mostly fluffy stuff

a/n -> i am finally working through fics that are lined up in the garage. i believe this one was a request from an anon! i hope you guys enjoy! <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the blaring of an alarm pulls you from your slumber.

stirring, you wrinkle your nose, fighting a yawn. there's a swath of comforter to your left, the fabric rising and falling. carefully, you nudge the bundle, your voice thick with exhaustion.

"toto, it's time to get up love."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

there's a groan that rises from the comforter, the figure rolling over. he wraps an arm around your frame, bringing you in close.

"f-five more minutes."

you can't help but notice that his voice is deeper. significantly deeper. there's a bit of a rasp to it, almost as if it pained him to speak. he nuzzles his head into your shoulder, coughing ever so slightly.

arching your brow, you purse your lips. this sort of behavior in the morning was unlike toto. he was a man who structured his mornings around a strict routine. each day, without fail, he woke up to his alarm, getting out of bed with ease. typically, you were the one who struggled to get up, as he had to lure you with breakfast.

shifting your body, you turn over, a tender hand connecting with his cheek. almost instantly, you feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"are you feeling okay?"

an eye opens, forming a slit. he exhales, shaking his head, "i'm fine. just want a few more minutes of sleep. that's all."

"are you sure?" your brow furrows, "you feel warm."

letting out a grunt, toto snuggles closer to you, sniffling, "i was just underneath the covers."

almost instantly, it clicked.

he wasn't feeling well. he must have came down with something. after all, it was the start of winter. everyone was spreading around a menagerie of illnesses and viruses. it was just customary with the change of the seasons. due to the nature of his work, he came into close contact with dozens upon dozens of individuals nearly every day.

it could have been anyone who was sick, but he was around them long enough to contract something. what it was, you weren't quite sure. hopefully it wasn't anything too serious.

pressing kiss to his temple, you engulf him in your arms, resting your chin on top of his head. you can feel a smile form against your chest, the team principal murmuring words you can't quite decipher. there were more than likely in german, his native tongue.

"you probably need to get going soon," you murmur, grateful for the coziness of the morning cuddles, "don't you have a presentation to look over?

"mmm," he hums, "probably."

"so why aren't you up yet?"

"not feeling well," he grumbles, "i think one of the interns gave me something."

"those damn interns," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, "what are you going to do with 'em?"

"send a letter to their university filing a complaint," a hoarse chuckle flows from his lips, "i should really get up, though. i do need to look over that presentation."

"maybe you should take the day off," your hand delves into his hair, playing with the soft brunette locks, "you should really get some more rest. i could make you some tea and some soup later on, if you're feeling up to it."

"you make it so damn difficult to leave," he counters, squeezing you in his embrace, "i just can't stay away from that pretty face."

"then why haven't you called in yet?"

"you know why i haven't."

reaching over to the nightstand, you pick up his phone, "i could always do it for you."

raising his head, toto tilts his chin upward, his gaze twinkling with amusement, "i would pay good money to watch that. why don't you go on then, love. call in for me?"

"i will," the words are barely a whisper, "you know i would do anything for you, right?"

licking his lips, the team principal readjusts, scooting up so that your faces were eye-level. he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in even further.

you would more than likely get sick as well, but that was a risk you were more than willing to take.

especially when he was so fucking irresistible, admiring you with those beautiful mocha depths. his lashes flutter as your lips collide with his, a rumble brewing in his chest as your tongue trails along his lower lip.

"c-careful schatzi, i don't want to infect you."

"you can do more than infect me," fingers tug at his roots, "infect me, kiss me, fuck-"

"maybe i do need to take that time off then," his tone is brimmed with lust, and you can't help but feel a firmness pressing against your inner thigh.

"go ahead baby," you cock your head, batting your lashes, "call in. for me."

before you know it, he's out of the bed and on his feet, pecking your forehead, "i'll be right back. give me five minutes, love."

as he strolls out, pressing his phone to your ear, you wait until you hear the steps dissipate. cautiously, you slink out of the space, tiptoeing down the stairs.

your poor, pathetic man.

all riled up over a few kisses.

toto wolff taps his screen, relief rippling as he makes his way back toward the room. he was able to successfully call in, just take a day off and fight whatever illness this was. he could stay with his love, all cuddled up and drunk off bliss.

however, when he pokes his head into the bedroom, his heart skips a beat.

you weren’t there.

yet, a scent wafts into his nostrils. one that he knew all too well.

the aroma of tea. and something else he couldn’t quite place his finger on.

as toto clambers down the stairs, he makes a right, entering the kitchen. once his eyes fall on you, his knees buckle.

you’re at the stove, brow knit with concentration as you flip something in a skillet. there’s a cup of tea waiting for him at the island, steam billowing from the mug. padding over to you, he peers over your shoulder, curious to see what was in the skillet.

“oh hi,” you flinch at first, yet relax as his arms wrap around your waist, “i figured i’d make you a nice breakfast so that you could take some medication.”

so that’s what you were up to.

the team principal presses a swift peck to your temple, “thank you, schatzi. i adore you.”

“of course! i love you.”

“and i love you,” toto’s breath is warm as it fans against your earlobe, the words thready with need as he continues.

“we’re going to make this day off worthwhile. okay schatzi? once we’re finished here, you’re mine.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff imagine

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starrrlights · 2 days ago

Text

Maybe in this universe...

Warnings: fem reader, soft/sweet!reader (for alt!universe and kinda for Arcane universe). Mentions of dying (almost dying), you almost die but ekko saves you last minute. You = alt!you. You = Arcane you. BLOOD and ANGSTY AT THE END.

☆○☆○

When Ekko traveled to the alt!universe, he was in shock by most things; Zaun seemed peaceful, Jinx was still Powder, everyone besides Vi was alive, and the cherry on top was you.

You were, softer, in a way. Like you were the calming wind after a harsh storm or slow ocean waves on a crowded beach. Something that his universe's you didn't give.

His you, well, you were the harsh storm or that crowded beach. After being taken in by Silco with Jinx, it altered your life completely. He made you harder, stronger. A stranger in Ekko's eyes. One that he had fought countless times with, one that he had a fair share of her blood on his hands with.

There was something so wrong bit so right about you, something that gave him comfort after the harsh realities of his own world. He knew he couldnt give in to you, this you. He had to go back home, if he could call that home.

Your touches, words, worries, and the way your eyes would linger with his; made him want to force himself to look anywhere but you, and move forward with Heimerdinger, and make that damn machine or whatever to get back home. Just so he couldn't fall deeper for you more than he already has.

The more you hung out, the more he reflected on you, the one where you were loyal to Silco, would fight until your hands bled, where your anger bottled up too much. He almost felt bad, bad that this could've been you. All sweet and soft. That made him reflect on Jinx/Powder, and Vi, and everyone else that he had lost and gained over the years. The ones no matter how hard he tried to deny, he still cared for.

He pushed himself harder to got back home after that thought. Maybe he could make things a little better back home, just a little. Just enough to know whether or not you still cared for him there like you are here.

The building part of the time machine was a success after a while, and manipulating the hex crystals went great, better than he thought even, with how many hours of work? He could finally go back, to Zaun, to the Firelights, to you.

But he couldn't leave you behind without a goodbye, so he made a (favorite flower) necklace (one basically like the one he gave to powder but different). Hoping that when you figure out that he wasn't supposed to be here, that you'll still cherish the memories you made like he will.

The travel back felt as weird and as uncomfortable as the trip to. Like every atom and speckle of the body was being torn apart and molded back together. He landed back where he first started, the room with the Arcane in it, and he made sure to get out of there as fast as possible.

He traveled down the streets of Zaun as fast as he could, zooming through with his hover board and watching the ground below him, watching for anyone familiar. (He had to ask a few people, no luck there, however)

You were in an alley way, not far from the Last Drop, but couldn't move yourself for the life of you. Every bone and muscle ached and screamed in pain from the punched and stabbings you've received. Even breathing was becoming harder to do now, how long had you been out here anyway? Not like you've been paying attention anyway.

One hand layed on your stomach and the other on the dirty ground, no doubt had some of your blood on it. This wasn't too bad, everything was subsiding with numbness and the thought in the back of your head that said that you've finally found peace in the ruined city made everything almost worth it.

But perhaps you did go too far with the fight how many hours ago, chewed off too much and now you had to deal with the consequences.

Shouting could be heard from all over, but one voice seemed to get louder, almost as if they were getting closer. You weakly looked over and saw a blurry figure of someone run to you, saying your name. They came in front of you and the image became clearer. It was Ekko.

You couldn't be cocky, or mean, or anything else towards him right now, just staring at him almost stupidly as he said some things you couldn't understand.

"...If you've come to finish me off, or whatever... just do it. I'm not gonna fight back..."

Ekko could feel his heart drop at the sight of you, worse than what he would leave you in after a fight. You just... layed there. Practically waiting for death to take you. What happened when he was gone?

"...im not gonna do that tonight. and never after."

You felt his hands moving around you, wrapping something around your midsection where the nasty gash was still bleeding out, making you hiss in pain, and dragged your body up, rushing you somewhere. But that all was long after you passed out.

Maybe in this universe, he'll still be by your side, if you'll allow him.

☆○☆○

👹👹 don't worry I'm gonna make a part two

This probably sucks but is midnight so whatever.

#x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #ekko x reader #ekko #ekko arcane #fem reader

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sukunatoes · 2 days ago

Text

Cardio

Personal trainer!Sukuna x Fem Reader

WC: 1.9k

Content: MDNI. Smut. Vaginal Sex. Oral Sex (Fem Receiving). Fingering. Age Gap (Sukuna mid 40s, reader mid 20s). All Porn, No Plot. Modern AU.

A/N: Hi! I’m trying to get back into writing and attempting to learn to write in second person. This is my first time writing an x reader fic so i apologize for any errors. It’s a short one-shot that’s basically all smut and just me trying my hand at something new. I may write a follow up to this fic if anyone enjoys it but mainly wanted to put it out there is all :)

Sweat beads pool on your forehead, and your breath grows ragged as you raise yourself back up following your final set of squats. A pair of large hands reach over, grabbing the weights out of yours and lift them away with ease.

“Not bad for a rookie,” a deep voice rumbles just inches from your ear, sending a chill down your spine. “You’re getting better.”

Ryomen Sukuna. A local boxer who’s apparently famous in the underground scene. You had never seen him fight or even knew much about the sport for that matter, but from what you’ve heard, the man was an unstoppable force.

A couple of months prior, you had been complaining to your friend Megumi about wanting to find a personal trainer to help you ease back into fitness, but every option you explored was beyond what you could afford. His father had overheard the conversation and suggested one of his friends who did training on the side for some extra cash. Said he usually worked with up-and-coming fighters, so someone like you would be easy work for him.

Sure enough, whenever you had first texted Sukuna, he thought it was a joke. It’s not that he wouldn’t be able to train you, but he was confused why you’d even come to someone like him for help. He agreed and invited you over to his home gym, and ever since, you’ve met with him multiple times a week to train. It was an unusual situation for him, but you assumed he chalked it up to easy money.

“It’s because I have a good teacher,” you smile up at him.

He rolls his eyes before placing a hand on your lower back to scoot you out of his way, letting it linger for just a second too long. “Whatever, brat.”

Heat immediately pools in your lower abdomen, and your mouth grows dry. He always does this. Touches that last a little too long or drift a little too close to places his hands shouldn’t be. Occasionally throwing out questionable comments. It’s not that you didn’t want it; you wanted him so bad it made you ache. Watching the way he towered over you, his broad, tattooed shoulders glistening with sweat as he instructed your every move. You yearned for his touch so desperately. However, he never went beyond those little touches or quips, but God, you wish he finally would.

“However, your squats still aren’t deep enough,” Sukuna remarked as he turned back to face you. He leaned down just a bit, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “You need to spread your legs wider.”

His eyes carried a look in them, almost like he was daring you to be the one to blur the lines between what was appropriate or not. You had wanted to for a while now, but the bravery needed had not yet taken root.

“I’ll be sure to spread them wider for you next time.”

You instantly cringe at the words you let slip. Heat rises to your cheeks as you immediately divert your eyes to the floor.

“Oh?”

“I— I meant I’ll make sure my squats are deeper next time,” you stammer as you back up. You lean down, quickly snatching up your keys and water bottle from where they rested on the floor.

“Come on, don’t get all shy on me now.” He trails behind you, veering off towards the wall. His hand hovers over the panel to open the garage doors for you as his mouth starts twisting into a wide grin. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

“I—“ The words you want to say die on your tongue before you can even utter them.

He stares expectantly in return, waiting for you to finish. Foot tapping against the ground for a moment before releasing an impatient sigh and brushing his fingers against the button that would allow your exit.

“Wait,” you step towards him and gently tug the wrist that hangs at his side. His eyebrow arches up. You definitely had his attention now. “Well— I was wondering if maybe you would want— ”

Without warning, his hands are on your waist and pulling you in. You collide with his chest, and before you can even think, his fingers are forcing your chin up. His lips slam into yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he’s kissing you. It’s hungry and desperate. He wants you just as bad as you want him. His tongue eagerly slides into your mouth and massages against yours. You can feel yourself melting under his touch as you snake your arms around his neck. Sukuna grips underneath your ass and lifts you from the ground, your legs locking around him. The kiss never breaking as he carries you and sets you down on the ledge of a bench.

He pulls back, his lips slippery with your salvia, and sinks to his knees in front of you. His fingers greedily slip into the waistband of your shorts, sliding them down your legs in one smooth movement as he traces his tongue along his top lip. Tossing them somewhere behind him, he leans in and pulls your legs over his shoulders. A thumb presses against the damp patch on the cloth covering your cunt. The smallest whimper falls from your lips at the sudden pressure.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You can’t muster up much more than a weak nod as he begins to diligently stroke your clit through the cotton.

“Use your words, brat,” he commands, retracting his hand away from the wet mess between your legs.

You look down at him, bottom lip slightly protruding at the loss of contact. “Yes, Sukuna. Please.”

That was all he needed. He sinks his face between your thighs, tongue lapping at your clit through the thong. Sukuna deeply inhales as if he’s breathing you in, only to follow it with a guttural groan. A finger slips underneath the fabric and inside you. It curls, immediately finding that sweet spot, and rips a breathy moan from your throat. His lapping turns to sucking and the fabric quickly becomes soaked all the way through.

Your hands begin to explore his blush colored hair, intertwining with the strands. You gently tug on them before arching your back. Your hips buck in response to the stimulus, aching for him to give you more.

He grunts in response before briefly pulling back. Using his free hand, he yanks at your underwear in one strong motion causing them to rip. Before you can even protest, the remnants are hitting the floor and his tongue finds its way to your bare clit. A second finger joins the first inside of you, now picking up a faster pace.

“Oh my god,” your mumbles are incoherent as you yank on his hair harder.

He releases his tongue from your clit, fingers still going at a steady pace inside of you. “Ryomen is just fine. Sukuna if you don’t want to get too personal.”

You looked down at him to be met with that shit eating grin of his. A thick string of salvia trailing between his bottom lip and your clit.

Arrogant bastard.

You dig your heel into his back in response, evoking a soft chuckle from him before he rejoins his tongue to you.

Between his swollen lips sucking on you and his fingers still hitting that sweet spot, it wasn’t long until a heat starts coiling in your lower abdomen. Your heart begins to pick up and your moans grow louder as you approach your peak and in an instant, Sukuna is retracting his fingers and pulling away from you.

An incredulous look flashes across your face as you glance down. “Sukuna.”

“What?” he inquires, his voice carrying a mocking tone.

Was he really fucking teasing you?

Before you can even react, you’re being hoisted to your feet and spun around. Your eyes are met with a mirror that completely covers one of the walls in his gym.

Hands wrap around your waist and you’re being pulled into him as his hard length makes itself known against you. Fingers, still viscid from your juices, slide up to your lips and part them. He hums in amusement as he slips them into your mouth while his other hand grips your chin and forces you to look ahead to watch your own reflection as you begin to lap the slick from Sukuna’s fingers.

He pulls his fingers from your lips, and brings his mouth down to your ear, his breath hot as it ricochets off of you. “I want you to watch who’s making you feel this good.”

His sweatpants drop to the floor and his hard cock briefly rubs against your skin before his hand splays against your lower back, forcing you to bend over. He wastes no time lining his tip up with your entrance.

“You’re fucking soaked.” is the last thing you hear as he slides his length into you in a quick, fluid movement. He’s massive. You gasp at the sudden stretch of your walls trying to accommodate him before letting out a visceral moan. The pain quickly melting into pure ecstasy.

His strokes start slow and deliberate. He pulls himself out almost entirely before rutting back into you, wanting you to feel every single inch of him. Massive hands grip into your hips, holding your tender flesh so tight you’ll undoubtedly be bruised for weeks. A hand wreathes it’s way down to your swollen clit, rubbing circles around it as his pace begins to pick up. Your eyes instinctively close for a brief moment before a sharp burning sensation spreads across your scalp. His hand, now entangled in your hair, forcing your attention back to him.

Staring at your reflection, he smiles, flashing his unusually sharp canines. His smile isn’t smug or seductive. The look in his eyes is dark, he looks like he wants to devour you. “Watch.”

He drops his hand from your hair and places it back at your hip, while the other is still stroking your needy clit. His thrusts become faster, deeper, and desperate. Sweat drips down his contorted face as a mixture of grunts, moans, and curses slip from his lips. “You’re taking me so fucking good.”

Your legs start to tremble as that familiar pleasure starts coiling in your lower abdomen. You watch as Sukuna relentlessly buries himself into you and everything starts to slow down. A white light flashes across your vision and you cry out as he pushes you over the edge. Walls pulsating around him, you feel your inner thighs grow viscous.

“Fuck,” is all he offers as his breaths grows labored. He brings his other hand back to your side to steady you as he thrusts into your cunt a couple more times. Sukuna pulls himself out at the last second and paints your lower back with hot, white ribbons.

He steps back, reaching for one of his sweat towels folded over a nearby machine. The sudden loss of contact has you reaching out, searching for something to help steady your wobbly legs.

One arm snakes around your waist to offer you the stability you need, while the other carefully wipes away the cum decorating your skin. “I had thought of something else I wanted to have you do before your session ended, but I don’t think you’ll have enough stamina left.”

You turn to face that smug grin you’ve grown to like a little too much, and glance up into his crimson eyes. “Guess we’ll add it to next week’s session.”

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 2 days ago

Note

HELLO can I ask for sol,hyugo and geo with a mc that is obsessed with it's own appearance, like having a strict diet, body and skin care religiously and wearing uncomfortable clothes like corsets just to be pretty.

Sorry if it's too long, love you writing 🍬💕

ENSNARED

This is the second oldest request I have in my inbox, hope this fulfilled your expectations, Anon! Thank you so much for choosing me to write this for you. <3

TW: There are themes involved with hating your body, as well as depriving it of food, sleep, etc. to feel attractive.

You all have traits that make you worthy. Remember that.

-- Signed solemnly by @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer AKA Sky Fort(resse)s and Burning Citadels

To commence this: Sol is a very insecure man. He may not appear it, nor act it, but deep in that depraved mind of his - looks are crucial to him. He has standards, of course. He dresses the way he wants, wears whatever makeup he wants, but he still ensures he looks ‘pretty’. Especially for you, he’s willing to ditch all his values and morals for you, just say the word. In short, he understands the urge to appear perfect or have glass skin or to be the most fashionable.

He’s always found you beautiful, to be fair everyone does (they’re not worth your time, he thinks), but you’re ethereal in his eyes. Always was, always will be.

You are by far one of the most fashionable people in all of your classes: your hair is pinned and styled, your clothes scream wealth and expense, your perfumes and cosmetics are a compliment to your features and by God your outfits fit your figure so well. You’re a model, essentially. People state you’ve been stopped on the streets by alleged modelling agencies.

You didn’t trust them enough to accept, however. As you should’ve, this city is dodgy and shady in more ways than Sol has jacked off to you - and that’s a massive achievement tbh.

On the surface, you appear unfazed by the envious looks of passer-bys, confident and composed in your own skin. However - like he knew suspected - as he got to know you, he recognised all the signs, all the subtle cues that indicated just how ‘perfect’ you had to look. How obsessed you were about your appearance, often losing sleep and forcing yourself to avoid food just to feel like you were becoming more ‘beautiful’.

You both should watch The Substance let’s be ffr, that movie perfectly explains what it’s like to be you. (sidenote: the movie’s fine but honestly it went way off the rails halfway through - just my opinion though)

He would often compliment you, and you would smile and thank him. Deep down, however (which he eventually realised and panicked about) was the intrusive, all-consuming thought: He likes this version of me, he could never like the real me, I’m too fake for someone as authentic as him. And then you go even deeper into that cycle.

In terms of romance, it’ll probably stem from a moment of rage or frustration, mostly on your part. You’re so tired or maintaining, editing, fixing yourself every fucking day that you lose it. Fully fucking lose it. You tear at your hair, pull at your skin, smear your makeup and just sob in the shower.

You don’t go to school that day, by then Sol and you (and Hyugo!) were friends for a while, and he was nervous when you weren’t around that day. They both texted you, with little response if any at all. So he brings your favourite snacks (he knows you don’t eat sugar so he brought dried fruits instead).

What goes down is a mix of you being comforted, him relating to you, both of you opening up, maybe sleeping ontop of each other (look you’re tired okay).

Obviously it’s a lot more violent and volatile than just that, but you’re in deep. You’ve been stuck in this cycle for years, it’ll take a lot to start pulling you out.

So you guys agree to pull each other out together.

Him (and Hyugo) both value their own appearances, but their aim is to convince you to dress well for YOURSELF, not anyone else.

When you and Sol are dating, you’re still very vain and worried about how you look, but the urge isn’t as potent, more as a source of comfort than anything else - or so you say. Sol definitely makes you eat and sleep more though, and to an extent (hint: a huge one), you feel a lot lighter. A lot saner and a touch happier.

You’re both pulling each other out together, and Sol often displays his love for you (and your body) through significantly more than just validation…

Mans definitely hugs and holds you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear about how worthy of love and affection you truly are.

Maybe one day you’ll grow to tell such kind things to yourself.

“You look gorgeous, pumpkin. Heh, who am I kidding, you always do.”

“Nothing makes me happier than seeing you at ease and content, darling.”

“I love all of you, always have, always will.”

Hyugo is a raging fan of hot and cool women (shh dw he thinks hot men are epic too); he absolutely loves them, he thinks they’re awesome. He’s someone who can definitely appreciate a person who caters to themselves and generally hold themselves in high regard; and from the looks of it…you seem to be both of those things. After all, you’re considered a beauty by most if not all of the school (and some faculty members but that’s for him to use as blackmail in the future).

He 110% does consider you appealing at first glance, you’re put together, composed, sure of yourself. In short: confident. He likes that trait, the ability to see yourself highly and to deflect any hits that are tossed your way.

He originally doesn’t see it as much more than that, a small acknowledgement of ‘that person’s cool’…until that day on the rooftop.

Then it turns into something a touch more…intimate? I mean, violence is an intimate thing, in certain contexts. It’s just not a type people would want to find themselves in…heh, well, normal people at least.

After him and Sol acquaint themselves with you well enough, he begins to perceive cracks in this facade of yours - Hyugo has a very highly-tuned sixth sense (canon idfc this is something he has to have with the shit he gets up to) - and gets curious.

You seem like a nice person, a good person even, but there’s something *off*. He tries to think about it, tries to put his finger on what he suspects you conceal from the world. So, like the magnificent detective he is, he decides he’s going to investigate and through his many contacts he discovers you’re extremely vain and self-regulatory about your physical appearance.

He doesn’t think that’s the cause at first, until he gets to know you better and it hits him just how willing you are to damage yourself just to fit the standards of the year, if not month. He notices how trendy you are, how you always seem to have the newest bags, clothes, makeup, shoes, etc.

He does some digging, in his spare time (only due to intrigue, totally out of curiosity and nothing else) and finds that you’re in a very deep debt. Mainly from your obscene amounts of fashion-esqe purchases. That’s when he fully realised how bad this compulsion of yours is.

During your friendship, he starts gingerly bringing up things about trends, usually starting from his end - video games - and you end up mentioning fashion and clothes.

Then he picks up on how gaunt you look, even under the contouring and makeup, his bony your hands are, how frail you seem to be.

He’s contemplating kidnapping you at this point, and eventually he bites the bullet and just bluntly asks you why you’re starving yourself. You become highly defensive, immediately shutting down the conversation.

Soon enough he becomes more forward with his prior gestures of offering food, being a touch insistent you eat. You look like you’ll collapse at any second, and he has to fully resist his urge to force-feed you - mostly to remain on good terms with you - until you actually collapse.

Most people are shocked, but the more perceptive ones aren’t remotely surprised how bad it got. You had a conviction that beauty was everything, and you were stubborn as they come.

It’s when you’re finally allowed out of the hospital that the two of you get into an actual argument. He’s upset that you’re willing to die in pursuit of something entirely subjective and you’re angry he thinks he has the right to boss you around.

Soon enough it explodes, and he blurts out his feelings, freaks out, and storms off; deciding to end it there before he reveals anything else.

You, on the other hand, are shooketh.

Con? Fuzzled.

Bam? Boozled.

Flabber? Gasted.

Eventually, you start to see things from his perspective, from other peoples’ perspectives and you feel depressed all over again. You fucked up. You failed to maintain perfection. It’s the imperfections that made this happen.

Obviously you know it’s not true, logically there’s no way it is. But you’ve not cared about logistics for a long fucking time.

You find him soon enough and you both talk, actually talk. Something something feelings and hurt and comfort something something let’s date.

Hyugo has plenty of his own secrets, as do you, but despite it all? You both know the other would never leave, because…you just feel it. Some small hopeful part of you feels safe with this partner…and soon so do both of you.

He’s a very supportive partner, he even helps you get out of debt ffs, he’s willing to do a lot to help you. Often compliments or expresses affection whenever he sees you, especially if you’ve eaten or he knows you’ve been taking care of yourself. Encourages you to list good traits of yourself, or to do something that involves not thinking, like crocheting. Or shooting. Or cooking. Stuff that grounds you. Whether you take any of those on is up to you, but he’s a caring person, and despite the shit he’s done he does want you to be and feel better. Sometime later on, you feel a sliver of that light return to the pit of hollow self-loathing and the world feels a touch less grey.

“Hey! How’re you feeling? Awesome, hey uh, wanna go out today? Just us two, no pressure. :)”

“As a certified sexy person I wish to remind you that you look very sexy this fine day.” 😔🫡😈 (this is said very solemnly mind you)

“You smell nice...” *subtly inhales*

To summarise this entire extract, Geo has his own insecurities - but they’re significantly more repressed than any other member of the main cast (Hyugo being a close second imo). He can empathise with the desire to feel content with ones’ own appearance, not that he’d ever state it.

He’s someone who does value fashion - cosmetics in particular, he definitely wears eyeliner and lipstick- and the art of taking care of yourself and your wellbeing, but he never felt the urge to destroy himself in the pursuit of beauty like you do.

He considers Crowe one of his ‘close’ friends and considering how highly Crowe views you, he’s got some tidbits of info on you, like how you’re incredibly self conscious. He found that odd, because from whatever times he may or may not’ve seen you around, you emanated self-assuredness - if not cockiness - alongside your particularly fancy way of dress.

He can admit, he was a touch impressed with how dedicated you were to maintain yourself, until he began noticing small things in your stature and general nature. He doesn’t know why he observed such minute details, but whenever you hung out with the group, you seemed a touch out of it. A bit depressed, especially when someone complimented you - like Brittney or Jess.

He was somewhat certain you were fishing for compliments, until he realised that he doesn’t trust compliments either, so he somewhat erases that thought of you.

He does end up liking you after a long time, for your personality - we all hope (it is dw) - but he does notice how you alter your outfit style and makeup to something more conventionally appealing in Japan (idk man someone out there’s definitely done this to impress a crush), or just noticed how if you realise he likes something, especially in terms of physicality (it’s not for attraction it’s for the ✨aesthetic✨) you end up adopting said traits.

He eventually does recognise (probably because someone pointed it out, like Deryl - bless his heart he had no bad intentions) that you are doing this to impress him.

He’s not impressed, if anything, he feels a tad peeved. To him, actions like that indicate desperation, and he does not want to be surrounded by desperate people (he’s got too many simps and he doesn’t need anymore)…but you’re not a shallow person, he feels that.

Unfortunately he has fuck all idea on how to actually bring this up, so he doesn’t.

In fact the only way you stop is when he makes a snarky remark about it (he didn’t mean to come off as an asshole he swears) and you just look…melancholic.

In your eyes, you’ve learnt that beauty and appearance is what gets you people, and it’s worked so well before…so why isn’t it working now. You don’t want to seduce or trick anyone, but you want to be seen as pretty. Beautiful, even.

Geo’s indirect rejection of this made that void in your heart - that one that convinced you long ago how shallow and unworthy you genuinely are - swell and pulse. It stung.

That, along with the magnitude of invalidating, cruel thoughts sent you into a spiral. You let yourself go, and you let yourself drown.

And everyone noticed, when you marched into school after a couple days with makeup messily caked onto your face, your hair done in a way that tore at your scalp and hair strands and your outfit so tight that you had to move like a machine just to get around. The desire grew stronger, grew in intensity and you were losing it.

Geo does not understand until Brittney realises it that he may or may not have been a catalyst for this. He has no clue how to deal with this, like he’s so stumped that he has an argument with ChatGPT.

Soon enough, he decides to just try and interact with you and pray this doesn’t end up in flames.

Something something awkward confession something something angst and hurt comfort something something eventually romance starts.

Anyway in terms of romantic relations, he’s unsupportive of these inhumane rituals you’ve been doing on yourself, so he makes you cease.

He doesn’t want to be nasty about it he just thinks it’s stupid and doesn’t want you to suffer anymore. He does care for you.

Will drop random words of validation every month or so, and you cling onto those words, because they’re genuine. They’re authentic, and you grow to feel more comfortable in receiving them, and, most importantly: giving them to yourself and accepting them. Bit by bit.

“You look nice. This suits you.”

“You’ve eaten, I hope?”

“You look healthier. Keep it that way..”

Banger women and banger tits: two things that Brittney Claire has in spades and also highly appreciates (mantits also count dwdw). She’s someone who values appearance as well, often putting in insane amounts of time for her hair snd skincare alone (Geode quivered in fear when he heard the number). She’s also someone who’s experienced her fair share of dark times and loneliness, so she definitely understands what it feels like to need to feel attractive, to feel wanted and needed, even if it’s ingenuine.

She’s someone who - like you - displays confidence and self-assurance, especially in the face of people she holds disdain and even resentment towards. Someone who understands the empty feeling that comes with years of self-loathing and the undying belief that you’ll never be worth anything if you’re not beautiful. What worth does someone - especially a woman - have if she’s not beautiful?

Looking back, from the perspective of someone with a much healthier support system and overall mindset, she knows she has worth, knows she’s awesome and has good qualities…but some days those feelings return. So she gets it.

Frankly, the first time she meets - hell, even sees - you, she instantly knows. How could she not, she used to be similar to you. Trendiest outfits, being the circle of attention, knowing all the news and rumours and pop culture references (she still knows them, just refuses to change herself for them). She believes she only genuinely stopped trying to fit in when she discovered Gyaru fashion, almost slipped back into it when she got humiliated that one time, and crawled back out when she had Jess and Crowe (and to a minor extent, Geo) for support.

She knows you don’t have genuine friends, or ones that possess depth; so she decides to try and get to know you through shared classes.

You originally somewhat ignore her (totally not due to your envy of her being able to be herself no never), which tempts her to give up, but she’s a spiteful lady sometimes. Spite is a very good motivator.

Eventually, you both end up talking and the more comfy you become, the more she realises how similar you both were and still are. She decides to introduce you to her friend group, to which you reluctantly agree (due to the rumours) and you’re pretty well-received.

Brittney does eventually start opening up to you, and you do as well - bonding over your shared experienced and values - her offering an olive branch if you want support, to which you agree…but never take up.

Hell, soon enough you grow distant again, and oddly enough she’s peeved. She doesn’t get why, well…she does, but you seem to mostly avoid her specifically. Did she appear fake to you? Did you think she wanted to harm you?

Maybe, honestly. She had - still has - that same mindset to an extent. That jaded outlook on reading peoples’ angles and intentions.

When she eventually confronts you, you both escalate it to a fight, mostly because she’s genuinely trying to help - despite having the communication skills of a tortoise in water - while you’re being hyperdefensive over yourself and your habits of extremist beauty obsession.

You confess you’re jealous of her. Highly jealous, the fact she has genuine friends, that she can fit in, be herself, etc. You apologise for being such a bitch, but it hurts you deeply.

She eventually relents and calms down, before you both start a proper friendship. You two and Jess are a banger trio, often going shopping together, going to cafes or simply talking. A group of support and trust, one that’s rare in a place like Titan City.

It’s then you two begin to develop feelings, and eventually things happen and you two get together.

She’s gonna be protective of you, you both defend the other from rumours and shitty people and serve as pillars for the other when they’re feeling low. You guys empathise with one another in ways many others simply cannot - and that’s a bond neither of you are willing to squander.

You guys definitely do each others’ hair and makeup and nails btw.

“You look…pretty! Pretty…uh…yeah. Very pretty.”

“Ugh, times are hard for hot people like us, right? Jessie Sitrus agree with me this instant!!” 🗣🗣

“I get it, but hey! It gets better, trust me. I’d know. And we’ve got each other, right?”

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cupiidk1lls · 7 hours ago

Text

｡˚ ♡︎ ‘PRINCE CHARMIN’S’ KISS

IN WHICH … fratboy!chris wanted to be nerd!readers first kiss. or, aka, her ‘prince charmin’ kiss.

just some kissin’ 💋 ( this was way longer than intended …… )

based on my bot : first kiss.

“wait wait wait. you’re being serious right now?— you’ve never kissed anyone before?” chris asks, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sat across from you on his bed, the abandoned textbook in his hands a testament to the unexpected turn the conversation and the tutoring had taken.

you mentally slapped yourself, your head drooping forward and your eyes scrunching shut as a wave of regret washed over you. with a heavy sigh, you lifted your gaze back up to meet his, and shook your head. "nope," you affirmed, punctuating the word with a pop of your lips, your lips pursing together almost awkwardly, as you shift on his mattress, finding yourself growing restless.

“damn, nerd.” chris muttered. he sets the textbook down and shifts so that he’s leaning back against the headboard, his eyes on you, a mix of surprise and disbelief written all over his face. he shakes his head, processing the information. he then shoots you a teasing smile, his eyebrows raising suggestively as he asks, "are you a prude or somethin’, then? d’ya just, tease every guy?” his eyes fixate on you with a mix of mischief and curiosity.

you roll your eyes at the absurdity of his query, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. "i’m not a prude!" you protested with mock indignation, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. chris catches the pillow easily, holding it in his lap and chuckling at your protest. "oh yeah? then what's y’ deal? are you just saving your first kiss for prince charming or somethin, waitin’ for a curse to be broken’ by a true loves kiss, y/n-ie?” he continues to tease, not showing any signs of giving up, as he pouts at you playfully.

you frown at his words, feeling a mix of defensiveness and embarrassment. "..nah," you answer resolutely, arms crossing in a defensive gesture. "m’not waiting for some fairy tale prince." you pause for a moment, your gaze dropping down to the bed before flickering back up to his face. “..i just haven't found anyone worth kissing yet, that's all." you defend yourself, looking down at the pillow on his lap.

“… hm. interesting..” chris pondered over your words, an enigmatic expression crossing his face. then, in one fluid motion, he sat up straight, discarding the pillow to the other side of the bed. he looked at you, his gaze unwavering, and in a tone that left no room for debate, issued a direct command, “kiss me, then." he says, not breaking eyecontact with you, tilting his head to the side in curiosity of your next response.

you flinch, your eyes widening in shock and your cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. you falter momentarily before stuttering out a response, your voice betraying your discomfort. "you... what?" you blurt out, struggling to find the right words. your body tenses as you try to hide your embarrassment, shifting awkwardly under his intense gaze.

chris’ smirk widens at your reaction, your flustered expression clearly amusing to him. he lifts an eyebrow, repeating himself yet again. “kiss me,” he says once more, his voice taking on a slightly commanding tone, making your cheeks flush deeper, a mixture of embarrassment and confusion filling your chest. "i.. i don't..." you stammer, fiddling nervously with your hair as you try to find the words. "i don't know how," you finally manage to blurt out, the confession making you feel small and vulnerable yet again.

he lets out a scoff, a look of playfulness in his eyes. "its simple," he assures you, a smirk dancing on his lips. he leans forward slightly, his eyes fixed unapologetically on your mouth. "close your eyes, squeak," he instructs, his voice low and smooth, yet still teasing.

you huff for seemingly the tenth time that evening, but despite your annoyance at the pet name, you closes your eyes, following his instructions. your heart is pounding in your chest, your mind racing with doubt, yet the longing of desire and desperation, in disbelief that he’s really doing this for you out of all people.

“mmmhhhm, that’s good.” he lets out a satisfying hum of approval, his touch gentle yet assertive as he guides your chin with his hand. “open up for me a lil’, nerd.” he instructs softly, his thumb tapping against your lower lip, prompting you to part them ever so slightly. you pause, sitting up straighter and opening your eyes to face him. "but chris, why..?" you begin, your voice edged with confusion and a hint of uncertainty.

“do i gotta switch the language?” he huffs, interrupting your question with a playful tone. "open y’boca, kid. it’s not that hard," he repeats, his gaze holding yours stubbornly. you sigh deeply, resigning yourself to his demands. your eyes flutter shut, heart hammering in your chest as you wait anxiously for what comes next as you huff in annoyance. chris watches as you close your eyes once again, a soft chuckle escaping him at your dramatic display. "there’s no need to huff and puff like a dramatic 12-year-old, hm?” he teases, his tone laced with amusement. he inches closer, closing the gap between you, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

you mentally roll your eyes, silently exasperated by his mockery, but open your mouth slightly as instructed. you feel a strange mix of excitement and unease, your heart racing in your chest as you anticipate his next move. chris grins, clearly entertained by your eye roll, but he manages to hold back any further teasing remarks. he takes a moment to study you, his gaze roving over your body appreciatively, before fixating on your parted lips. "mhm," he murmurs softly, satisfied with your compliance, “jus’ like that, good..”

he notices how plush your lips are, how soft they would be against his own. and so he slowly closes the gap between you. his mouth gently presses against yours, the warmth of his lips meeting your own. the kiss starts off tender, but there's a clear sense of authority in chris's movements. he seems keenly aware of your inexperience, carefully steering the kiss so that you don't feel overwhelmed, yet he's unquestionably leading the encounter. confidence oozes from him, as if he's done this many times before, and knows exactly what he's doing. which he most definitely does, considering his ongoing reputation with girls left right and centre.

initially, you flinch slightly, caught off guard by the sensation, but soon find yourself getting into the rhythm of the kiss. with a subtle tilt of your head, you mirror his movements, your lips responding to his with a hint of hesitance but growing more bold with each passing moment. “mnh,” chris hums in approval, his hand snaking around your waist and squeezing your skin, in which you happily accept, your back arching a little as you feel the tips of his fingers press against the skin of your back. he pats your side, as if congratulating you.

a faint smile plays on chris’s lips as he feels you relax into the kiss, mimicking his movements with a touch of timidity that's oddly endearing. his hand moves to cup the back of your head, holding your face gently in place, as he continues the kiss with growing intensity. His touch is firm but gentle, guiding you as you clumsily navigate the new sensation.

you feel a wave of unexpected pleasure wash over you as the kiss deepens, your mind blissfully consumed by the taste and touch of chris's lips against yours. the sensations are intoxicating, and you find yourself craving more. your lips part slightly wider as the kiss progresses, allowing for more access from chris. you surrender to the kiss, your initial nervousness slowly melting away as the pleasure builds. your heart rate quickens, a warm heat spreading through your body as your leg lazily lifts onto his lap.

chris seems to notice your responsiveness, his confidence growing as he deepens the kiss, his tongue gently teasing against the seam of your lips. but before you can go any further, he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his hand still tangled gently in your hair. he can feel the rapid rise and fall of your chest, a tell-tale sign of the effects of the kiss. a contented hum slips from his lips, his smirk widening as he observes your reaction, his tongue darting out swiftly.

“guess i was your prince charmin’ kiss, huh?” he pats you on the cheek with a grin, then leans back against the headboard and picks up his textbook again, as if nothing just happened, as if he wasn’t ever so close to rearranging your insides. “now, where were we…?”

RAAAAH WHAT IS THIS *hides face in embarrassment*

DIVIDER CREDS :

red bow + kiss divider belongs to the wonderful @bernardsbendystraws

plain grey line divider(s) belongs to @aquazero !

# 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 ❤︎︎

taglist 1 (tumblr work taglist)

taglist 2 (bot creation taglist)

MASTERLIST.

#₊ 𐙚 𓂃 ࣪ cupiidk1llsbotz.#𓉸ྀི kami’stumblrrr .˳˳.⋅ॱ #chris sturniolo smut #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #frat boy chris #Spotify

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literatureloverx · 3 days ago

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Fyodor with a reader that is also russian?

Hello, my dear!♥️ I’m not sure what this turned out to be… I intended to write headcanons, but somehow it turned into something else (?).♥️

Fyodor x ideal type fem!reader, yandere tendencies.

Fyodor’s gaze often drifts to the quiet snowfalls of his homeland, the soft, endless white of his childhood that felt as if it held the world in perfect stillness.

It’s a color he often associates with purity—a concept that lingers somewhere between his complex moral code and his cold, calculating nature.

But when he looks at you, he doesn’t just see a woman, a delicate thing like a winter’s breath, he sees home.

The bond you share runs deeper than just being fellow Russians.

You speak in the same tongue, and each word that leaves your lips feels like a whisper of his past, a connection that ties him to something he once believed lost. Russian, to him, isn’t just a language—it’s a memory, a feeling of nostalgia that tugs at his heart, however cold it might be.

And hearing it from you, the way it dances from your lips, brings a certain peace, one that even he can’t fully explain.

You don’t need to speak often, nor do you need to fill the air with unnecessary words. It’s as if you understand the quiet language of the world around you, the same stillness that has shaped him.

And in that silence, in the way you are with him, Fyodor sees more than just beauty. He sees his homeland reflected in you—pale, fragile, and perfect, like something he could hold close without it ever breaking.

You remind him of the untouched snow of his home—the purity of it, the silence that speaks louder than any words ever could.

He’s always had a fascination with beauty, with things that seem almost unreal in their perfection, and you are the epitome of that.

You’re not the kind of woman to simply exist in the world, you’re the kind of woman who brings serenity, who quietly holds a place in a chaotic, troubled mind.

He loves that about you. The softness in your presence, the quietness in your heart.

It contrasts so beautifully with his own darkness.

Where he is calculating, you are instinctively nurturing. Where he finds power in silence, you find peace in it.

And it is in this balance, this delicate mix of fragility and strength, that he finds something he never expected—home.

Fyodor has never been one to trust people. He doesn’t need to, he doesn’t want to, and yet with you, it’s different.

He knows there’s something real in your affection, something pure, untainted by manipulation.

You see him in a way that no one else can—not for the mind games, not for the darkness, but for who he truly is underneath. And that’s what draws him to you the most.

It’s not that he loves you like the others. This isn’t some grand romantic declaration.

It’s something deeper, something quieter.

He appreciates you in a way he’s never appreciated anyone before—because, in you, he finds what’s missing.

You’re a piece of his homeland, the place he once longed for, and with you, he feels something he’s never quite known: a strange peace, a fleeting sense of belonging that comes only with someone who shares his roots.

You’re his, and that’s something he’ll never let go of.

A woman like you, so delicately intertwined with the very essence of his being, can never be allowed to slip away.

The game has changed, and he’s drawn to you in a way he never imagined possible.

#bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor x you #bsd #yandere bsd

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pomefioredove · 11 hours ago

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omg i LOVE the concept of cookies as asks so can i have a sugar cookie, #8, with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows thank yeww 🙏

t-t-total idia victory!

order #8, sugar with chocolate drizzle and marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ internet connection

tropes: ex (mutuals) to lovers, roommate au characters: idia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu

It was the closest experience to dating Idia had ever gotten, and likely the only experience he'd ever get again.

Three months.

Three perfect, blissful months.

That's 13.0357 weeks, 91.2501 days, 2,190 hours of chats, voice calls, and texts with someone he had almost considered his.

He was raising his confidence stats to ask them out when they sent him a message, which would be their last:

"router busted. sry. will get it fixed soon"

That was weeks ago.

Idia couldn't blame them. They were going to get tired of him eventually, and ghosting him, sucky as it was, was still the easiest way to let him down.

Then, at least, he could pretend that they were telling the truth.

"Come on, Idy! This is your chance! You'll never get over them if you never meet anyone else!"

Ortho's cheery, hopeful words twist Idia's stomach with guilt. He knows that. Of course he knows that.

He buries himself deeper into his blankets. "I don't want anyone else,"

"It's only for a few weeks. Maybe you'll make friends!"

Unlikely. Idia doesn't have the social XP for that. Who would want to be friends with him, anyway?

He can't even keep Magicord mutuals.

Then again, he has no other choice.

The Prefect had asked to stay somewhere with a high-speed internet connection while post-S.T.Y.X. Ramshackle was being repaired, and Ortho had volunteered Idia.

And his room.

Ugh. Why can't anything go right for once?

Idia hides under his covers like a small child, drowning the sound of the door and voices in PreMo.

He honestly doesn't know a lot about you. He doesn't get out much, and even if he did, you've always got those OP normie friends around you.

He knows you don't talk much. He's actually never heard you talk at all.

Whatever.

Idia only emerges from his blankets when his ears are ringing from the music and his body is sore from stillness.

He takes off his headphones and reads the room.

There's Ortho, projecting a beam of light on the wall, and there's Grim, chasing it, and there's you.

You seem a little out of place, awkwardly sitting on the floor when there are chairs and tables, your bags still at your sides, unpacked.

Something about you makes him feel at ease. Weird.

"Oh- Idy!" Ortho chimes. Idia jumps, and then everyone is looking at him. Crap.

"We were wondering when you'd come out! The Prefect has a question for you!"

You give Ortho a panicked look, as if to say you most certainly did not have a question for him. Idia has his own suspicions.

"About the Wi-Fi," Ortho chimes. "They really need to get online."

Idia narrows his eyes. His brother can handle something as simple as that.

"...O-okay," he mumbles. "I guess."

He reluctantly gets out of bed and sits beside you. At least with an objective, he isn't so nervous. You hand him your phone, some sad secondhand thing, and he puts in the password for you.

"Lemme know if it's slow. I've been working on upgrading the router, and it's been a little laggy," he hands your phone to you.

"Shouldn't be a problem, though."

You take it. "I can't complain, I don't have a router at all right now,"

Idia's face turns red.

His eyes go wide.

He can't place it, at first. What's that weird feeling? What is it about you-

You notice his expression. "Uh... did I say something?"

And when you speak again, just like that, Idia jumps to his feet.

"IT-IT'S YOU!"

"You?" Grim asks.

"You?" Ortho echoes.

"Me?"

Idia feels like he's losing his mind, his anxiety cracking and breaking away, shock taking its place.

"Y-yes, you! I know that voice! Don't you- you recognize mine too, don't you?!"

Your eyes widen.

"Oh... no... no way,"

"I-I can't believe this!" he says, suddenly grinning. "You weren't lying about the router, it must've got totally busted when S.T.Y.X- oh, crap. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

"Idy..." Ortho warns. "Your heart rate is-"

"I know! I know, I just- I can't believe it- you, of all people,"

He sits again, shaking. It takes you a moment to catch up.

"I... I wasn't lying," you mumble. "I've been trying to get a decent internet connection since we got back, but..."

"This is the guy?" Grim mumbles to you. He is ignored.

Idia feels lightheaded. This isn't real. This isn't happening. This is some weird dream.

He can't seem to stop grinning, anyway.

"Will you go out with me?!" he asks, without thinking at all. But not even the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to ground him.

You stare back, your own eyes wide.

And then, in your familiar voice, in your familiar easing presence: "I'd like that,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader

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elryuse · 3 days ago

Text

Evergarden Familia 2

Yandere Gahyeon X Male Reader

Tags : Yandere Mafia Gahyeon, Dominant Gahyeon, Dark n Gritty, A Lot Of Torture, Submission, Obsession

Words : 8,1k

Another Commission For My Friend @starconstruction On Tumblr and Ko-fi. Hope you Liked it Buddy.

The months following Y/n’s escape from Evergarden were a haze of sleepless nights, constant vigilance, and fleeting moments of hope. The city was a labyrinth of shadows, but no corner was truly safe from Gahyeon’s reach.

She was relentless.

Each time Y/n moved to a new safe house, news of her growing influence would follow him. Her reputation as the Queen of Evergarden spread like wildfire, her power cemented with fear and ruthless efficiency.

He heard whispers of her searching for him, offering exorbitant rewards to anyone with information. The underworld trembled at the mere mention of her name, but Y/n held onto his freedom with every ounce of his being.

Four months after his escape, Y/n found himself in Busan, a city far removed from the chaos of Seoul. The salty sea air and bustling markets provided a fleeting sense of anonymity.

For weeks, he had managed to stay under the radar, taking on odd jobs to sustain himself. But his luck was running out. Supplies were low, and he was nursing an infected wound from a skirmish with one of Gahyeon’s bounty hunters.

As he sat in a dimly lit motel room, bandaging his arm, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. The walls seemed to close in around him, the weight of Gahyeon’s looming presence suffocating.

“Just a little longer,” he muttered to himself, though the words felt hollow.

That night, it happened.

The sound of boots echoed down the motel hallway, followed by hushed voices and the metallic click of a gun being cocked. Y/n’s heart pounded as he grabbed his knife, knowing he couldn’t fight his way out this time.

The door burst open, and there she stood. Gahyeon.

She was dressed in all black, her hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. Her eyes burned with a mix of fury and longing as she stepped into the room.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice deceptively soft. “Did you really think you could run from me?”

Y/n gripped his knife tightly, his gaze locked on hers. “I had to try.”

Gahyeon tilted her head, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “And look where it got you. Bleeding, hiding… pathetic.”

Her words cut deeper than any blade, but Y/n refused to back down. “I’m not going back with you, Gahyeon.”

“Oh, you don’t have a choice,” she said, her tone sharp. “You belong to me, Y/n. You always have.”

The fight that ensued was brutal. Y/n lunged at her, but she was faster, stronger, and more prepared. She disarmed him effortlessly, pinning him against the wall with a knee to his chest.

“You’re weak,” she hissed, her face inches from his. “You can’t survive without me.”

Y/n struggled, but the infection and exhaustion had taken their toll. He could barely lift his arms, let alone fight back.

Gahyeon leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “You thought you could escape, but deep down, you knew I’d find you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. She was right—he had always known this day would come.

---

The days that followed were a blur. Gahyeon took him back to Evergarden, her grip on him tighter than ever. She refused to let him out of her sight, assigning guards to watch him even in her absence.

Y/n’s protests fell on deaf ears.

“I don’t care what you want,” Gahyeon snapped during one of their many arguments. “You’re mine, Y/n. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“You don’t own me,” Y/n shot back, his voice trembling with anger.

Gahyeon’s expression darkened, her eyes glinting with dangerous intent. “Oh, but I do. And the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Over time, the constant battles began to wear Y/n down. Gahyeon’s obsession was unrelenting, her love twisted and suffocating. Yet, there were moments—fleeting, rare moments—when he saw glimpses of vulnerability in her.

Late at night, when the world was quiet, Gahyeon would sit beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered once, her voice tinged with sadness.

Y/n didn’t respond, but a part of him couldn’t deny the sincerity in her words.

Still, the weight of her possession pressed down on him, grinding his sanity to dust.

Y/n sat by the large window of the Evergarden estate, watching the rain streak down the glass like tears. His reflection stared back at him, a hollow shell of the man he once was. Gahyeon’s mansion was a gilded cage, trapping him in a life that wasn’t his own.

She had won. She always won.

The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock. It marked the hours, minutes, and seconds of his confinement. Y/n leaned back, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the scar on his forearm—a souvenir from one of Gahyeon’s hunters.

“You’re thinking of running again.”

Her voice startled him. He turned to see Gahyeon standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. She wore a loose, elegant dress, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

“I’m not,” Y/n replied, his voice flat.

Gahyeon stepped into the room, her presence overwhelming as always. “Liar.”

She closed the distance between them, her movements deliberate and predatory. Y/n stiffened as she sat beside him, her hand resting on his knee.

“Why do you keep fighting me?” she asked softly, though her tone carried an edge of danger.

“Because I’m not a possession,” Y/n said, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m a person, Gahyeon. Not something you can lock away and control.”

Gahyeon’s expression flickered, a brief crack in her armor. “You’re more than that to me.”

“Am I?” Y/n challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

The tension between them was palpable, stretching thin like a thread about to snap. Gahyeon’s grip on his knee tightened, her nails digging into his skin.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “I’ve lost too much, Y/n. I won’t lose you too.”

“You’re not losing me,” Y/n replied, his tone weary. “You’re suffocating me.”

Her eyes burned with an intensity that made his chest ache. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane,” she whispered. “The only person I can trust.”

Y/n wanted to believe her, but the weight of her obsession made it impossible.

Over the following weeks, Gahyeon’s behavior grew more erratic. She would oscillate between moments of tenderness and terrifying possessiveness.

One night, Y/n found her sitting in the garden, staring blankly at the moonlit flowers. She looked small, almost fragile—a stark contrast to the ruthless queen she presented to the world.

“Gahyeon,” he said softly, approaching her cautiously.

She didn’t look at him. “Do you hate me, Y/n?”

The question caught him off guard. He hesitated before replying, “I don’t hate you.”

“Then why do you keep trying to leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because…” Y/n struggled to find the right words. “Because I can’t live like this. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

Gahyeon turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want you to be anything but mine.”

Her vulnerability was disarming, but Y/n couldn’t ignore the darkness that lurked beneath it.

The breaking point came one stormy night.

Y/n had been confined to his room after a heated argument. Gahyeon’s paranoia had reached new heights, and she had ordered guards to ensure he didn’t try to escape again.

But Y/n wasn’t deterred. He had spent years as a pawn in the 3 Crows, learning how to manipulate his environment to his advantage.

When the opportunity arose, he slipped out of the estate under the cover of darkness, his heart pounding with the exhilaration of freedom.

He didn’t get far.

Gahyeon found him hours later, drenched from the rain and cornered in an abandoned warehouse. Her guards had been sent away, leaving them alone in the echoing silence.

“You never learn,” she said, her voice cutting through the darkness like a blade.

Y/n squared his shoulders, refusing to cower. “I can’t keep living like this, Gahyeon.”

“And I can’t live without you,” she countered, her eyes flashing with fury. “Why can’t you see that?”

Their argument escalated, the storm outside mirroring the chaos between them.

“I’d rather die than be your prisoner,” Y/n shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

Gahyeon’s hand shot out, grabbing his collar and pulling him close. “You don’t get to choose, Y/n,” she hissed. “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.”

The storm outside raged on, but the tempest in Gahyeon’s eyes burned hotter. The abandoned warehouse felt like it was closing in around Y/n, her presence suffocating and inescapable.

“You’d rather die?” she repeated, her voice low and venomous. “How dare you even think that?”

Her grip on his collar tightened, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her nails dug into his skin, and he could see the storm brewing within her—a volatile mix of fury, heartbreak, and unrelenting obsession.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me,” she whispered, her tone deceptively soft. “You’re not just some pawn in my game, Y/n. You’re my king.”

He scoffed, his defiance flickering despite the fear gnawing at him. “A king in chains is no king at all.”

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, one that sent chills down his spine. “You think you’re in chains? No, my love. This world is the chain. I’ve freed you from it.”

Before Y/n could respond, Gahyeon pushed him against a rusted pillar, pinning him there with an iron grip. The storm outside howled through the broken windows, the wind whipping her hair around her face like a dark halo.

“You don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her voice trembling with a terrifying mix of rage and desperation. “Not now. Not ever.”

Y/n struggled against her hold, but she was stronger than he remembered. Her obsession had fueled her, turning her into something more dangerous than he could have anticipated.

“You think you’re the only one suffering?” she continued, her voice rising. “Do you know what it’s like to build an empire, to rule a kingdom, and still feel empty because the one person you love keeps trying to run away?”

Her words cut deep, but Y/n refused to back down. “Love? This isn’t love, Gahyeon. This is madness.”

Her hand shot to his throat, her grip firm but not choking. Her lips curled into a sinister smile as she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear.

“Madness?” she whispered. “Maybe. But it’s the kind of madness that will burn this world to the ground if it means keeping you by my side".

Gahyeon released him suddenly, stepping back as if to give him space. But her movements were calculated.

“You want to see how far I’ll go for you?” she asked, her voice eerily calm. “Fine. Let me show you.”

Before Y/n could react, she pulled out her phone and made a call. Her tone was cold and commanding. “Bring them in.”

The warehouse doors creaked open, and two of her men entered, dragging a battered figure behind them. Y/n’s heart sank as he recognized the man—a contact he had made in Busan, someone who had helped him hide.

The man’s face was bloodied, his body trembling as Gahyeon’s men threw him to the ground.

“Gahyeon, don’t—” Y/n began, but she silenced him with a raised hand.

“You think you can run from me?” she said, her gaze fixed on the trembling man. “You think anyone can hide you from me?”

Without hesitation, she pulled a gun from her holster and aimed it at the man’s head.

“Stop!” Y/n shouted, stepping forward.

She turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Then stop fighting me, Y/n. Stop running. Admit that you’re mine.”

Y/n’s fists clenched, his mind racing. He hated her for what she had become, but he hated himself even more for the part of him that hesitated, that feared what she might do.

“I’ll never be yours,” he said, his voice steady but his heart pounding.

Gahyeon smiled—a cold, predatory smile. “Oh, you will be. One way or another.”

The man’s scream echoed through the warehouse as Gahyeon pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberated in Y/n’s ears, but it wasn’t just the violence that shook him. It was the way she turned to him afterward, her expression serene, as if she had simply swatted a fly.

“Do you see now?” she asked, her voice soft and almost tender. “No one can protect you from me. No one can love you like I do.”

Y/n stared at her, a mixture of horror and disbelief washing over him. “You’re insane.”

Gahyeon stepped closer, her hand reaching out to cup his face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the blood on her hands.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her smile bittersweet. “But you’ve made me this way, Y/n. You’re the reason I’m like this. And you’re the only one who can keep me sane.”

Y/n's nightmares had become his reality. Each passing day, Gahyeon tightened her grip, molding him into a weapon for her empire. His protests, his defiance-none of it mattered. She had decided that if he wouldn't love her willingly, she would make him indispensable to her reign.

The cold steel of a gun now felt like an extension of his hand. Every bullet fired, every life taken-it all added to the growing abyss in his soul.

"Do you see, Y/n?" Gahyeon murmured one night as they stood on the rooftop of Evergarden's fortress, overlooking the city she now ruled. "This is the world we're creating together. You and I-unstoppable."

Y/n said nothing, his jaw clenched as he stared at the distant city lights. Those lights were a reminder of everything he had lost.

"Your silence doesn't bother me anymore," Gahyeon continued, stepping closer. "Because I know you'll fight for me. You'll kill for me."

Her hand rested on his shoulder, her grip firm. "And soon, you'll understand that there's no life for you outside of this. Outside of me."

The missions began the next day.

It started with a rival syndicate encroaching on Evergarden territory. Gahyeon had no patience for negotiations. She wanted blood, and she wanted Y/n to be the one to spill it.

"I don't want to do this," Y/n said as they sat in the back of her armored car, her guards flanking them.

Gahyeon tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting. "You don't have a choice, my love."

She reached into her coat and pulled out a sleek, black knife, pressing it into his hand. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what you'll do. For me. For us."

Y/n stared at the blade, its weight heavier than anything he had ever held.

"Why me?" he whispered, his voice hollow.

"Because you're the only one I trust," Gahyeon said simply, her voice laced with conviction. "And because every time you fight for me, you prove that you belong to me."

The attack was swift and brutal.

Y/n moved through the rival syndicate's headquarters like a phantom, taking down guards with precision and efficiency. He hated how natural it felt, how years of being Sang-hyun's weapon had made him so adept at taking lives.

When the last body fell, he stood amidst the carnage, his hands slick with blood.

Gahyeon entered the room moments later, her heels clicking against the blood-stained floor. She surveyed the destruction with a satisfied smile, her gaze finally landing on Y/n.

"You did well," she said, her tone warm, almost affectionate.

Y/n dropped the knife, his chest heaving with the weight of what he had done. "I'm done. No more."

Gahyeon's smile faltered, but only for a moment. She stepped closer, cupping his face in her hands.

"Oh, Y/n," she murmured, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "You don't get to decide when it's over. Only I do."

As the weeks passed, Gahyeon continued to use Y/n as her weapon, sending him on mission after mission. Each time, she would watch from the sidelines, her eyes filled with a twisted pride.

"You're perfect," she told him after one particularly bloody battle. "Everything I've ever wanted."

Y/n felt himself breaking under the weight of her words. He wanted to hate her, but her twisted affection left him conflicted.

One night, after a particularly harrowing mission, Y/n finally snapped.

"I'm not your toy!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the table in her office. "I'm not some puppet you can control!"

Gahyeon remained calm, leaning back in her chair. Her fingers steepled as she regarded him with a predatory smile.

"You're more than a puppet," she said. "You're my partner. My equal."

"Equal?" Y/n spat. "You don't treat me like one."

Her smile widened. "Because you haven't accepted your role yet. But you will. In time."

The breaking point came when Gahyeon ordered Y/n to eliminate a group of innocent civilians who had unknowingly crossed Evergarden.

"They're not a threat," Y/n argued, his voice trembling with anger.

"They're an example," Gahyeon countered coldly. "One the rest of the world needs to see."

Y/n refused, throwing the gun to the ground. "No. I won't do it."

For the first time, Gahyeon's composure cracked. Her eyes blazed with fury as she approached him, grabbing his face with both hands.

"You don't say no to me," she hissed. "Not now. Not ever."

Y/n met her gaze, his own eyes filled with defiance. "Then kill me, Gahyeon. Because I won't be your monster anymore."

The room fell silent, the tension between them palpable.

Gahyeon's grip loosened, and for a moment, Y/n thought she might actually let him go. But then her lips curved into a chilling smile.

"You'll do it," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "Not because I'll force you, but because deep down, you know you're already mine."

Y/n's world had become an unending spiral of blood and shadows. Every mission, every death-each step brought him closer to a point of no return. And through it all, Gahyeon watched him with a possessive intensity, her control over him tightening like a noose.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/n began to feel like a ghost haunting his own life. His soul, once so heavy with defiance, now felt hollow.

"You're quieter than usual," Gahyeon remarked one evening as they dined in her lavish penthouse.

Y/n didn't respond. He stared at the untouched food on his plate, his appetite long since stolen by the weight of his actions.

She reached across the table, her hand brushing his. "You're doing good work, Y/n. Evergarden is stronger than ever because of you."

He pulled his hand away, his voice cold. "At what cost?"

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Don't start this again."

"You've turned me into something I never wanted to be," he said, his voice rising. "I'm not your soldier, Gahyeon. I'm not your weapon."

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "You're mine," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. "Everything you are, everything you've done-it's all for us. For Evergarden."

Y/n pushed back his chair, standing to face her. "For you, you mean. This isn't about us. It's about your obsession with control."

Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, he thought she might strike him. But instead, she took a deep breath, regaining her composure.

"Do you know what happens to people who defy me, Y/n?" she asked, her tone dangerously calm.

"I don't care anymore," he said.

Her lips curled into a sinister smile. "You will."

The next day, Gahyeon summoned Y/n to a secluded warehouse-a familiar setting, one that made his stomach churn with dread.

When he arrived, he found a group of men tied to chairs in the center of the room. Each one bore the bruises and cuts of a brutal interrogation.

"These men tried to betray me," Gahyeon said, stepping out of the shadows. "They conspired with a rival syndicate to overthrow Evergarden."

Y/n's fists clenched. "What does this have to do with me?"

She handed him a gun, her eyes locked onto his. "You're going to make an example of them."

"No," he said immediately, his voice firm.

Gahyeon's expression hardened. "This isn't a request."

"I'm done killing for you," he said, throwing the gun to the ground.

Her gaze turned icy, and she stepped closer, her presence suffocating. "If you don't do this, Y/n, I'll make sure their families pay for their betrayal. Their wives, their children- I'll burn their entire lives to ash."

His heart sank. She had him trapped, as she always did.

"You don't have to do this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Yes, I do. Because this is how I keep control. And if you won't help me, I'll make you watch as I do it myself."

The first gunshot echoed through the warehouse, and Y/n felt a part of himself shatter.

He had done it. He had pulled the trigger. Not because he wanted to, but because Gahyeon had left him no other choice.

When it was over, the room was silent, save for the ringing in his ears.

Gahyeon approached him, her hands reaching out to cup his face. Her touch was gentle, almost tender-a cruel contrast to the carnage around them.

"You see?" she murmured. "You belong to me, Y/n. Body, soul, and everything in between."

He didn't respond, his eyes hollow as he stared past her.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're perfect, my love. And one day, you'll thank me for this."

That night, as Y/n lay awake in the darkness of his room, he felt something inside him shift.

He couldn't keep living like this. He had to find a way out, even if it killed him.

But deep down, he knew that escaping Gahyeon wouldn't be easy.

She wouldn't let him go. Not without a fight.

The air in the Evergarden penthouse was tense as Gahyeon paced back and forth, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Y/n stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, defiance etched into every line of his face.

"I'm not doing it," Y/n said flatly, his voice firm.

Gahyeon stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. "You don't get to decide that."

"I just did."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between them like a loaded gun.

For a moment, Gahyeon's expression softened, as if she were pleading with him to see reason. "Y/n, I don't want to fight you on this. This is for us for Evergarden."

"This isn't for us," Y/n shot back. "This is for you. For your obsession with control."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her patience wearing thin. "You don't understand what's at stake here."

"I understand perfectly," he said. "You want me to kill another rival, another threat to your empire. But I'm done being your weapon."

Gahyeon's jaw tightened, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Do you think you have a choice? After everything I've done for you, after everything we've built together, you want to walk away?"

"It's not walking away," Y/n said, his voice rising. "It's reclaiming what little humanity I have left."

Her eyes darkened, and the softness in her expression vanished, replaced by something colder. "Humanity?" she said, her tone mocking. "You think you can have a normal life after everything you've done? After everything I've done for you?"

"I'd rather die than keep living like this," Y/n said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Gahyeon took a step closer, her presence overwhelming. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, meeting her gaze with defiance.

Her composure cracked, and for a brief moment, Y/n saw the vulnerability beneath her hardened exterior. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a steely resolve.

"If that's how you feel," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "then you've left me no choice."

The punishment came swiftly and without mercy.

Two of her most loyal enforcers dragged Y/n into a dimly lit basement, his struggles futile against their iron grip. They chained him to a chair in the center of the room, the cold metal biting into his wrists and ankles.

Gahyeon entered moments later, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. She dismissed the enforcers with a wave of her hand, leaving her alone with Y/n.

"I didn't want to do this," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But you've forced my hand."

Y/n glared at her, his chest heaving with anger. "You think this will make me obey you?"

"I think it will remind you who you belong to," she said, her tone devoid of emotion.

She stepped closer, pulling a knife from her coat. The blade glinted under the dim light, and Y/n felt a chill run down his spine.

"You'll heal," she said, almost as if trying to reassure herself. "But you need to learn that defiance has consequences."

Y/n's breath hitched as she pressed the blade against his cheek, the cold metal sending shivers down his spine.

"Do you know why I'm doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because you're a monster," Y/n spat.

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "No, Y/n. I'm doing this because I love you. Because I can't lose you."

She pulled the blade away and stepped back, her hand trembling slightly.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "But if it means keeping you close, if it means keeping you safe, then I'll do whatever it takes."

The days that followed were a blur of pain and exhaustion. Gahyeon didn't allow Y/n to leave the penthouse, keeping him under constant watch. She personally tended to his wounds, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the darkness of her actions.

"You'll thank me for this one day," she said as she wrapped a bandage around his wrist.

Y/n didn't respond, his eyes hollow and distant.

Gahyeon's gaze softened, and she cupped his face in her hands. "I know you hate me right now, but that's okay. Hate is still a connection, Y/n. And as long as we're connected, I can work with that."

He turned his head away, refusing to meet her gaze.

She sighed, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "You'll see, my love. This is all for us. For the glory of Evergarden."

The basement was silent, save for the occasional drip of water echoing through the room. Y/n was strapped to the cold metal chair once again, his wrists and ankles bound so tightly the restraints dug into his skin. His shirt was torn and bloodied, his breaths shallow and labored.

Gahyeon stood before him, her silhouette illuminated by the dim, flickering light. She looked almost ethereal, an angel of death watching over her prey.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said softly, her voice calm yet laced with steel. “But you’ve left me no choice, Y/n. I told you, didn’t I? You belong to me.”

Y/n didn’t respond. His head hung low, sweat and blood dripping from his chin onto the floor.

“You’re strong,” she continued, circling him like a predator. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. That’s why I love you. But even the strongest need to be reminded of their place.”

She crouched down, lifting his chin with her fingers. His eyes, though dull and heavy with exhaustion, still held a spark of defiance.

“You’re still fighting me,” she whispered, almost admiringly. “But you can’t fight forever.”

The hours stretched into eternity. Gahyeon’s methods were meticulous, calculated to break him piece by piece. Sometimes it was physical—blades tracing shallow lines across his skin, ice-cold water poured over his head to shock his senses. Other times it was psychological—taunting him with his failures, whispering promises of freedom that would never come.

“Why do you resist me, Y/n?” she asked during one of the sessions, her tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? There’s no life for you outside of this. Outside of me.”

Y/n gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse. “I’d rather die than be yours.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, she looked as if she might strike him. But instead, she stepped back, composing herself.

“Die?” she echoed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You think I’d let you escape me that easily? No, Y/n. You don’t get to leave me. Not ever.”

Eventually, his body began to betray him. The lack of sleep, the relentless pain—it all blurred together, breaking down his defenses. His mind grew foggy, his thoughts tangled and incoherent.

Gahyeon noticed the change immediately.

“You’re close now,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “So close to surrendering.”

Y/n’s lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out.

She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. “It’s okay, my love. Let go. Stop fighting.”

The moment came unexpectedly. One final, whispered taunt from Gahyeon was all it took to shatter the last remnants of his resolve. His shoulders slumped, his head falling forward as a broken sob escaped his lips.

“There it is,” Gahyeon said softly, her voice filled with satisfaction. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

She cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. His eyes, once filled with fire, now stared back at her with emptiness.

“You’re mine now,” she said, her tone dripping with possessiveness.

She pressed her lips to his, the kiss soft but filled with a fierce intensity. When she pulled back, she began to shower him with kisses, her lips brushing against his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline.

“You don’t need to fight anymore,” she whispered between kisses. “You don’t need to think. Just let me take care of you.”

Y/n didn’t resist. He couldn’t.

She pulled him into her arms, cradling him like a prized possession. “You’ll see, my love. This is how it’s meant to be. You and me, together forever.”

Gahyeon’s breath was hot against his ear as she leaned in, her voice a low, sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You’ve been running from me for too long,” she said, her tone laced with amusement and something darker—something possessive. Her fingers trailed down his arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He tried to pull away, but her grip tightened like iron, her nails digging into his skin just enough to remind him who was in control.

“Let go of me,” he growled, his voice strained, though there was a tremor beneath the anger. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely. Her lips curled into a smirk, those dark eyes gleaming with a hunger that made his stomach twist.

“Oh, darling,” she cooed, tilting her head as if he’d said something adorable. “I told you already. You don’t get to decide when this ends.” Her other hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He flinched at the touch, but she only smiled wider. “You’re mine now. Whether you like it or not.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, her lips crashed against his. The kiss was anything but gentle—it was hungry, demanding, and utterly consuming. She claimed him with a ferocity that left no room for resistance, her tongue slipping into his mouth as though she wanted to devour him whole. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but the fight slowly drained out of him. Against his will, his body began to respond, heat pooling low in his gut as she pressed herself against him.

When she finally pulled back, he was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Her gaze locked onto his, those dark eyes filled with a predatory gleam. “There it is,” Gahyeon said softly, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

She cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. His eyes, once filled with defiance, now stared back at her with an emptiness that only fueled her obsession. “You’re mine now,” she declared, her tone thick with possessiveness. Her thumb brushed over his lower lip again, her touch lingering as though savoring the moment.

Her lips began to wander, peppering soft kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline. Each kiss was tender, almost reverent, yet there was an undeniable intensity behind them. “You don’t need to fight anymore,” she whispered between kisses, her voice honey-sweet and hypnotic. “You don’t need to think. Just let me take care of you.”

He didn’t resist. He couldn’t. Something about her touch, her voice, had shattered the last remnants of his resolve. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded, as though she had cast a spell over him. She pulled him into her arms, cradling him like a prized possession, her fingers gently carding through his hair. “You’ll see, my love,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “This is how it’s meant to be. You and me, together forever.”

Her hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of him. When they reached the hem of his shirt, she tugged it upward, her movements unhurried but purposeful. He didn’t stop her, his mind still foggy, his body pliant under her touch. The fabric slipped off his shoulders, puddling at his feet, and she hummed appreciatively, her gaze raking over his exposed skin.

“Perfect,” she breathed, trailing her fingers down his torso. Her touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through him despite the conflict raging in his mind. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then another just above his collarbone. Each kiss burned like a brand, marking him as hers.

His breath hitched as her lips moved lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her hands found his waistband, and she paused, looking up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, though they both knew the answer. Her fingers toyed with the button of his jeans, her smile widening when he remained silent.

“That’s what I thought,” she purred, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down with agonizing slowness. His jeans pooled at his feet, leaving him completely vulnerable before her. She stepped back, her gaze roaming over him with blatant admiration. “So beautiful,” she murmured, her voice almost reverent. “And all mine.”

She closed the distance between them again, her hands finding their way to his hips as she guided him backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she pushed him down, following him as he fell onto the mattress. Her knee nudged his legs apart, and she settled between them, her weight pressing him into the sheets.

Her hands roamed over his body, her touch equal parts gentle and commanding. She leaned down, capturing his lips in another searing kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He moaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips, and she grinned against him, clearly pleased with his response.

“That’s it,” she whispered, breaking the kiss to trail her lips down his neck. “Just let go. Let me take care of you.” Her hands continued their exploration, mapping out every curve and plane of his body as if committing him to memory. When her fingers brushed against his growing arousal, he gasped, his hips jerking instinctively.

She chuckled, the sound low and husky, and wrapped her hand around him, stroking him slowly. “See?” she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. “You don’t have to fight it. You belong to me now.”

Her movements became more deliberate, her grip tightening ever so slightly, and he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. She took advantage of his exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, her teeth grazing lightly just to hear him whimper.

“Gahyeon…” he managed to choke out, his voice ragged. It wasn’t a plea for her to stop—it was something far more dangerous. He hated how much he wanted this, how much he craved her touch despite everything.

“Shh,” she soothed, kissing him deeply again, her tongue sliding against his in a way that left him dizzy. “Don’t fight it, my love. Just feel.”

Gahyeon’s lips curled into a wicked smile as she felt him shudder beneath her touch. She could see it in his eyes—the surrender, the way his defenses crumbled like sand slipping through his fingers. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his breath hitching as she continued to stroke him, slow and teasing, drawing out every ounce of his resistance until there was nothing left but her.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go. You don’t need to hold back anymore.” Her fingers tightened around him, just enough to make him gasp, and she leaned down to capture his lips again, her kiss fierce and demanding. He moaned into her mouth, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare.

She pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with his as she whispered, “You can’t even move without me, can you? That’s how much you need me.” Her tongue flicked against his bottom lip, and she bit down gently, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me,” she coaxed, her voice soft but insistent. “Tell me who you belong to.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he fought against the words, but Gahyeon wasn’t patient. Her hand moved faster, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip of him, and his resolve shattered. “Y-you,” he stammered, his voice hoarse. “I belong to you.”

Her smile widened, and she released him abruptly, leaving him trembling and desperate. “Good boy,” she purred, her hands sliding up his chest as she shifted above him. She positioned herself so that her thighs bracketed his hips, her warmth hovering just above him. “Now… let me show you what it means to be mine.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, she lowered herself onto him, their bodies joining in one fluid motion. His breath hitched, his head falling back against the pillows as she took him inch by inch, her own breath coming in shallow gasps. She reveled in the sensation, in the way he filled her completely, and when she finally settled against him, she let out a soft sigh of contentment.

“Do you feel it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “How perfectly we fit together? Like this was always meant to be.” She rocked her hips gently, testing the waters, and a shiver ran through her as pleasure sparked along her nerves. “You were made for me, my love. Only me.”

He clenched his teeth, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape him, but Gahyeon wouldn’t allow it. She began to move, her pace steady and unhurried at first, each roll of her hips designed to draw out every ounce of pleasure. His hands gripped the sheets beneath him, his knuckles white as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control, but it was no use. She was in complete command, her body moving with a rhythm that left him helpless.

“Look at me,” she commanded, her tone sharp but laced with a strange tenderness. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she smiled down at him, her eyes burning with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through him. “I want you to watch as I take what’s mine.”

Her movements grew more forceful, her hips slamming against his with increasing urgency. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by his choked gasps and her soft moans. She was relentless, driving them both closer and closer to the edge, her nails digging into his shoulders as she held on tightly.

“Say it again,” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly as pleasure coiled tight within her. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I belong to you, Gahyeon.”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, a wave of pure satisfaction washing over her. “Again,” she breathed, her hips never faltering in their rhythm.

“I belong to you,” he repeated, louder this time, his body arching beneath her as the pressure inside him built to unbearable levels. “Only you.”

She could feel it—the tension in his muscles, the way his breathing turned ragged—and she knew he was close. But she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. With a sharp twist of her hips, she slowed her pace, forcing him to endure the agonizing buildup for just a little longer.

“Not yet,” she cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I want to savor this.” She resumed her movements, slow and torturous, her fingers trailing down his chest as she watched him unravel beneath her. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Completely at my mercy.”

He groaned, his hands grabbing at her waist as if to urge her on, but she shook her head. “No, my love. This is my pace. My rules.” She pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into his mouth as she ground down against him, the friction sending sparks shooting through both of them.

When she finally allowed herself to pick up speed again, it was with a wild abandon that left him reeling. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face as she rode him with everything she had, her cries mixing with his as they spiraled toward release together. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, she pushed them both over the edge, their voices rising in unison as pleasure consumed them entirely.

Gahyeon collapsed against his chest, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she clung to him. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her ear, a frantic rhythm that matched her own, and she smiled against his skin. “Mine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Forever mine.”

Gahyeon lay there for a moment, savoring the warmth of his body beneath her, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. She traced lazy circles on his skin, her fingers lingering over the scars and imperfections that made him human, made him real. Her human. Her lips curved into a small, possessive smile as she pressed a kiss to his collarbone, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of his skin.

“You’re so perfect,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry. “Every part of you… every breath, every heartbeat. All mine.”

Y/n stirred beneath her, his fingers twitching slightly as if trying to regain control of his body. But Gahyeon was quick to react, her hand sliding down to grip his wrist firmly, pinning it to the bed. “No, no,” she chided softly, her lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t get to move unless I say so. Remember? You belong to me.”

His eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, but they locked onto hers almost instinctively. There was something in that gaze—something raw and vulnerable—that made her heart ache with a twisted kind of love. She cupped his face again, her thumb stroking his cheekbone as she leaned in closer, their breaths mingling.

“Do you understand?” she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “You don’t need to think. You don’t need to fight. Just let me take care of you. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

He didn’t respond, not with words, but his body relaxed under her touch, his resistance fading like smoke in the wind. Gahyeon smiled, triumphant and tender all at once, and shifted her weight so she could straddle him properly. Her hands roamed his chest, her nails scratching lightly over his skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake. She reveled in the way he shivered beneath her, the way his breathing hitched when she found a particularly sensitive spot.

“You’re so responsive,” she purred, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. She nipped at the skin there, just hard enough to leave a mark, a reminder of who he belonged to. When she pulled back, she admired her handiwork, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted more—more of him, more of this feeling, this connection. She wanted to lose herself in him completely, to drown in the heat of his body and the sound of his voice. So she did what came naturally: she took.

Her hands slid lower, tracing the line of his hips before gripping him firmly. He gasped, his back arching off the bed as she began to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate. She watched his face closely, drinking in every twitch and tremor, every flicker of pleasure that crossed his features.

“That’s it,” she coaxed, her voice soft yet commanding. “Let go. Let me make you feel good.”

He groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows as her hand moved faster, her grip tightening just enough to drive him wild. She could feel him hardening in her grasp, could feel the tension coiling in his body, and it only fueled her own desire. Her thighs clenched around him, her core throbbing with need, but she forced herself to focus on him. This was about control. About possession. About him.

When she sensed he was close—too close—she suddenly stopped, pulling her hand away and earning a desperate whimper from him. His hips bucked, seeking friction, seeking release, but she simply shook her head, her smile widening as she leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Not yet,” she teased, her breath warm against his skin. “I want to see how much you can take.”

She shifted again, positioning herself above him, and slowly lowered herself down, taking him inch by agonizing inch. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she felt him fill her, stretching her in the most delicious way. Once she was fully seated, she paused, giving them both a moment to adjust, to savor the connection. Then, with a slow roll of her hips, she began to move.

Every thrust was deliberate, every movement calculated to draw out the pleasure for both of them. She kept her pace steady, unhurried, her hands braced on his chest as she rode him. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face, sticking to her skin with sweat, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the way he looked beneath her, the way his eyes glazed over with bliss, the way his hands clutched at the sheets as if he were holding on for dear life.

“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice firm despite the breathlessness creeping into her tone. Reluctantly, his eyes met hers, and she smiled, her movements becoming more intense, more demanding. “Good boy. That’s it. Just like that. Don’t look away.”

He obeyed, his gaze locked onto hers as she pleasured him, as she claimed him completely. She could feel her own climax building, coiling tightly in her stomach, but she held on, determined to push him over the edge first. Her rhythm faltered, her hips stuttering as her control slipped, but she tightened her grip on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she pressed on.

“Come for me,” she urged, her voice breaking on the words. “Please. I want to feel you. I want to know you’re mine in every way.”

His breath caught, his body tensing beneath her, and then he was coming undone, his release spilling into her with a ragged groan. The sight of him—lost in ecstasy, utterly at her mercy—was enough to send her spiraling over the edge as well. She cried out, her walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both too lost in the aftershocks to do anything more than breathe. Then, slowly, Gahyeon collapsed against his chest, her cheek resting over his heart as she listened to its rapid beat. Her fingers trailed idly over his skin, tracing patterns only she could understand.

“Mine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Always mine.”

- To Be Continued -

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