#it's attractive when you take care of yourself

[livingasaghost]

i think one reason why so many people fail to understand andrew and neil's relationship is because people don't know what it is to be aspec. and obviously the aspec umbrella is wide and varied and no one size fits all, but at the heart of their relationship, neil is demisexual. and i fully believe andrew is some form of aromantic. and obviously their shared history of trauma (of all kinds) colors their relationship and their sexualities and actions. but aspec people (and the people in relationships with those aspec people) develop such different relationships than allo people. they care differently, and it's often the care that becomes most important, rather than (just) the attraction. like yes, i choose you because i see you because i am interested in you because i don't quite understand you but i want to, i need to, and i am committed to sticking around regardless of whether we are a legal partnership or not.

people argue all the time that andreil would grow to say i love you some day, that they'd eventually heal enough to get married, but that isn't healing. that's ignoring a vital part of each of them. not only are they both still learning what love is, but love is not what their relationship is built around. they did not ~FaLl In LoVE~ they built a partnership around taking care of the other person. sure they were attracted to each other in their own ways, but andrew doesn't look at neil like he's his happily ever after romance. neil is the person who wants andrew to live, who wants andrew to be happy, who wants andrew to know that he has value even when he's not a good person. and andrew is the person who wants neil to be safe, who wants neil to be happy, who wants neil to know that he has value even when he isn't playing exy. their "romance" comes from holding each other up, from calling each other on their shit, from being a safe space when the world has proven it is anything but. neil is the one who almost starts to imagine some kind of long-term partnership in such conventional terms and andrew is so unconcerned with what that partnership looks like...he just knows the two of them will continue holding each other up as long as they can. and sure they'll have sex and sleep in the same bed and get cats together and all that "romantic" shit, but it's more than romance. it's a life. it's security. it's a chance to rewrite the trauma of their pasts.

and yeah to an outsider all that is romantic, sure. but i don't think andrew and neil see it like that. their relationships is all facts and truths. they feel safest in these absolutes, in the trust they are building together, in the shared language they are crafting between tentative touches and long stares. but to label it something as banal as ~romance~ undersells just what's happening to them. they don't need to say i love you because they know that all of these pieces that make up their shared life together say that for them, and they wouldn't know what to do with those words anyway. their "love" is not the same as other people's anyway. they don't need to get married because anniversaries and dates and marriages minimize just how long forever is, and they are already joined together by the understanding they share.

if the two of them got married or started "dating" it would send the wrong message to people who will never understand. neil isn't andrew's ~boyfriend~ he's the man who convinced him that life can interesting enough to stick around for. andrew isn't neil's ~lover~ he's the man who refused to let him run away from the life he always wanted. it's not romantic, it's survival. it's selflessness. it's learning how to care for yourself by caring for someone else and letting them care for you.

[pansexualkiba]

iturmom blocked me i think but here's my response in the notes because i already addressed this to them in a prior reblog but they still don't seem to get it.

you cannot claim to not make a value judgement on a person in a single conversation and then make a value judgement like "alpha male creep" based on vibes. that is, by definition, making a judgement on values. furthermore, being asked what he finds attractive on a date - not in a random person on the street, but on a date - and responding with what he finds attractive isn't "alpha male" nonsense. he says nothing that could possibly be construed as this.

yes, judging a woman for how she eats is misogynistic - however, he isn't just saying "all women need to do this". he's saying "in my experience, people [he does not actually state women] who care too much about social pressure to the point that they actively control other people are unpleasant people to be around". which, i don't know, in the context of a romantic date, may be an actual point to make. is it a truth that women are conditioned to be demure in all aspects? yes, and there's a conversation to be had here. however, it is also not the point being made in this statement. he was asked what he finds attractive on a date, and he answered "someone who do not care about other people when they eat the food they like".

no notes im not getting into this.

anthony bourdain is not jacking off at the fucking table because he sought out a woman to eat sloppily. he is on a date with someone, hypothetically, and he is paying attention to how they act in an intimate environment, and taking that as an indication as to how they would act in other aspects of life. the exact sentiment he says is that someone "who makes the experience uptight and restrictive" - that is to say, makes the act of eating at a romantic dinner highly uncomfortable - is not, to put it lightly, someone to spend the night with. furthermore, he discusses his wife's epicurean tastes, and how she eats without worrying about what's attractive. his exact sentiment is "i choose this meal, and this order, and i choose the person across from me", not because he is "making someone eat for him, but because he is comfortable in what he likes, and expects the other person to be (and after describing his wife, a woman who is VERY comfortable with what she likes, if his anecdotes about her are to go by).

he chooses meat because of the stigma (especially in the actual environment of a appearanced-obsessed romantic evening) surrounding ordering it - pay attention to the way he DESCRIBES these foods. "bloody hunk of steak" and "pungent french cheese" are not flattering images! he is not describing forcing a vegan to eat meat, he is describing when a person avoids food they otherwise like because "the pork belly makes you look fat". he literally states that eating with abandon "shows you're comfortable with yourself". he isn't saying anything about morality, personal integrity, or anything of the sort - he's talking about worrying about appearances halting you from indulging yourself in something you like. which, again, in the context of a romantic date, is not a good trait to see in a potential partner.

exaggerating your emotions for drama in the second half of the tags did not read well because the rest of the take was so thoroughly detached from what was in the text that it just felt like a logical conclusion towards your disdain towards a man saying that it is attractive when a person is comfortable with themselves enough that they'll order "unsavory" foods (like, say, something garlic-heavy) on what should be a romantic evening - because if someone puts so much stock in a hypothetical audience that they actively make the whole night uncomfortable, they will not be fun to have around in other contexts. you, admitting you did not know who he was, determined he was a creep and a sex fiend because he mentioned sex once and had the gall to discuss kissing after a date. i do not know anthony bourdain personally, but based on this context in the provided conversation we are both looking at, he has provided zero evidence that he is a misogynist or an "alpha" or anything of the sort. this is an imagined conflict you have created and then proceeded to "play up" lest someone think you sincere.

tl;dr: you are not making criticisms that are based in the actual text, and playing up the second half of your tags "for drama" in an attempt to feign indifference does nothing except to achieve the exact opposite.

(also, there totally is vegan food that's amazing to have and want. your problem there is that no one in your life is cooking it properly.)

[matchatarot]

Hi bunny! Do you wonder what are your most coveted qualities? To pick a pile don’t overthink and choose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Please keep in mind that this reading is based on people’s idealized perception of you, so it’s most likely not an accurate representation of how you see yourself. You could be surprised by how much people romanticize you! Only take what resonates. Love, Matcha ♡

Pile 1 ₊˚.༄

People envy the beauty and softness you exude, they wish they could look this dreamy. When you’re out and about minding your own business, people look at you in the corner of their eye. Often, people in public are thinking about approaching you and shooting their shot with you, but most are too scared to disrupt your peace. Strangers sometimes even talk about you, how pretty and enticing you seem. People envy how effortlessly feminine you are. They admire how innocent you seem, but at the same time, they sense that you’ve been through a lot, and they envy how you went through life’s hardships while still remaining graceful. People esteem how you’re able to admit your flaws and how you’re willing to start over if necessary. They perceive you now as having all the qualities you need to access success. They envy your style, your accessories, and your clothes. People around you see you as having access to a lot of wealth and luxury. Your entourage envies how much people care about you and are loyal to you. They are so jealous of the fact that life seems to always rejuvenate for you, and you get to live exciting experiences without even seeming to try hard.

rose quartz, howlite, 333, 13, 11:11

Pile 2 ୭̥° ✧

People are jealous of how comfortable you are with yourself. They envy how independent you are. Even if you would rather do things by yourself, you still ask for help if needed. Your entourage admire this level of maturity. People envy how much others are willing to help you. Your peers are jealous of how much people are jealous of you! They know that if you knew this, you would think it’s weird. They also know that you’re not scared to cut people off, so they hope you never learn that. People are jealous of how high your standards are; they know you don’t let just anyone into your life. You are able to defend yourself, and you will put people in their place if they attack you. People also envy how you party and have fun; they wish they were able to party like you. They envy how many suitors you have or think you have and that you don’t even seem to look their way. They envy how much others want to spend time with you and be in your energy. A lot of people that have seen you naked are jealous of the way your body looks. If you have blonde hair, they’re jealous of how good it looks or how blue your eyes are. If you don’t have those features, people think you are conventionally attractive.

pyrite, amethyst, palo santo, 222, 444

Pile 3 ‧₊˚♡

People envy how creative and authentic you are. You seem to have the key to success! They see you advance through life with confidence, showing your true authentic self but also willing to sacrifice the parts of yourself that don’t fit in your next chapter. People would like to be part of your journey so that you could educate them and mentor them on theirs. They admire how you cherish your past relationships and how you wear your wounds with pride. They see that your past made you who you are, that it made you this beautiful. They’re jealous of how you don’t care what people think. You don’t even care if they gossip about you or judge you because you would never let them control your life. They envy how you don’t let anyone other than yourself dictate your life decisions. They also wish they could pull off bold makeup or extravagant looks. They think that on them, it seems ridiculous, but you just wear it effortlessly. They’re jealous of your femme fatale look. People envy how much others are attracted to you and flirt with you. They envy how others confide in you; they would like to know all of the information you have on others. A lot of people would like to take your place in the social hierarchy.

clear quartz, citrine, 555, swan, dove

oracle decks used for this reading: amor et psyche oracle by Georges Barbier, les vampires oracle by Lucy Cavendish, mystical wisdom by Gaye Guthrie, oracle of heaven and hell by Travis McHenry

[fivestaralien]

caddy princess

-> minygu x gn!reader

warnings+”: fluff!!, suggestive, reader is depicted as smaller than mingyu, reader and mingyu can not keep their hands to themselves, many golf references that I could not care less to double check if they made sense or not, pls don't ask me the color of his shirt word count: 1787 notes ִֶָ ࣪˖ mingyu on my mind. lmk what you think of this one!!! reblogs and comments help the most!! I had fun writing for him and tbh I find people that play golf vv attractive but I also think its one of the most BORING sports to watch. its a love hate relationship. anywayyyy, stay safe and be gentle with yourselves<3

//

It’s too early in the morning and your brain is a little fuzzy. You agreed a few days ago to join Mingyu in a game of golf and you were seriously regretting it. You should've double checked the time you’d be going. Though you don’t want to miss the chance to ogle him while he plays. 

 Your eyes follow Mingyu's tall figure as he walks back and forth between the bathroom and bedroom closet. He is rambling about something that happened at work the other day but all you could focus on was the rippling muscles of his back and arms. The golf shirt he throws on hugs his body so well you have no clue how you were going to survive this outing. 

 “.. And then.. hey, are you even listening?” Mingyu pouts after seeing how out of it you look. 

 You hum in acknowledgement but you were still staring at his arms. He rolls his eyes with a smirk, continuing to put his belt on as he walks over to you. You are laying on your side with your head resting on your palm. Your eyes shift up to follow his movements and eventually meet his gaze. 

 “You with me?” Mingyu squats down so you wouldn't strain your neck and rests a hand on your waist. 

 “Yeah sorry, it’s just way too early for you to be looking this attractive.” You mumble shyly, tracing a finger along the contours of his arm muscle. 

 “You’re gonna be a problem today aren't you?” 

 You then squeeze his bicep, “ no idea what you’re talking about.” the corner of your mouth lifts up a little. 

 “We have to leave soon so get up and get dressed honey.” He tells you then kisses the crown of your head. 

 Mingyu has never seen you fawn this hard so obviously over him. Usually it’s the other way around so he was definitely going to be savoring this for a long time. You shove yourself into your pillow, groaning about how you just want to sleep. He laughs, kissing the back of your head before getting up. 

 You follow him into the kitchen after you finish getting dressed and watch from the countertop as he makes snacks for in between holes. He would occasionally bring a few pieces of food up to your mouth for you to eat, which you accept with a smile. When he finished packing it all up you hop off the counter and then help him bring stuff out to the car. He takes to heavier things, like his clubs and a mini cooler filled with ice and water, while you carry the bag of food. 

 Mingyu pulls out of the driveway not long after and the drive to the golf course is peaceful, causing you to go back into that sleepy state. You look over at him, his wrist casually resting on the gearshift, veins branching their way up his forearm from his hand and the hat he put on at the last second leading the focus to his crazy sharp jawline. You barely think as you reach over and run your fingers along the outline of it. 

 “Thank you for coming with me.” Mingyu's voice is still deep from waking up, snapping you from your trance. 

 “Of course,” you squeeze his wrist, “ I love spending time with you and watching you play golf is a huge bonus.” 

 You go back to tracing his veins as his laugh fills the car. Just as you arrive at the course parking lot, the sun peeks over the mountains, casting  various pinks and reds to fill the horizon. You lean on your knees to get a better look and take your phone out to take a picture. 

 “Okay I see why you do this so early. It’s so pretty.” 

 “Seeing you all pouty in the morning is way prettier.” Mingyu leans over the console and kisses your warm cheek. 

 You smile down at your phone to try and hide how much his words affect you but of course he couldn’t let you be shy in peace. He pinches your cheek lovingly while cooing affectionate words in that soft high pitched voice he knows gets you to crumble. 

 “Stop it.” You whine and push him away. 

 “What? Only you are allowed to openly obsess over your partner?” 

 “No.. but.. whatever, shut up.” 

 You turn your head away, face on fire and look back towards the sunrise. Mingyu kisses your cheek a few times then leaves to go into the main building to pay for a golf cart. He opens your door when he comes back and the both of you, after gathering all of your things, begin walking towards where they keep them. 

  Once again you are drooling over his arms. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he lifts his golf bag into the storage compartment attached to the back causing you to swallow hard. Next he lifts the cooler and bag of food into the back seats. The golden sunlight is hitting him perfectly, it takes everything in you not to pounce on him. 

 Mingyu clears his throat, your face flaming hot at getting caught, “don’t.” you warn. 

 He smiles wide and kisses you softly then pats your hip, signalling to get into the golf cart. The first few holes you just sit and watch with casual conversation in between. He is teeing up on the 4th hole when your stomach starts to grumble. You wait until he takes the shot before asking if he was ready for a snack or water. Mingyu nods and tells you which one to get out for him. 

 “Honey, why don’t you hit one?”

 “And completely embarrass myself in front of my hot, insanely talented boyfriend? No thanks.” 

 You bite into your snack. Mingyu grabs your calves after sitting back down, laying them across his thighs and takes his snack and water from your waiting hand. 

 “Would it be more enticing if I said I would help you.” He questions and you tap your chin as if you were contemplating hard.  

 Mingyu continues, “I mean think about it. You wouldn’t really need to do anything,” his fingers begin tracing along your soft skin, " I'd be right behind you, guiding you to hit it right.” 

 Just the thought of his giant arms around you, even if it’s just for a game, had you nodding frantically before he could get another word out. The triumphant smile on his face makes your heart flutter and you lean over a little and kiss him. 

 “Only one hit though.” You tell him after pulling away. 

 You never had an interest to play before so having you finally say yes meant the world to Mingyu. He agrees with the same smile still on his face. You both finish your snacks and then continue down the fairway to where his ball landed. 

 Your eyes fall back to Mingyu's biceps then trail down to the way his hands grip the club as he goes to hit the ball again. If your phone could track the hours you stare at Mingyu like it does screen time, it would malfunction and overheat. Not a second goes by where you aren’t gazing at him in some way. He finished the hole with a birdie and you were making your way to the next one. 

 “Alright baby, you’re up.” Mingyu pats your thigh. 

 He sets up your golf ball and motions for you to come and stand right in front of him. A golf club is placed in your hands as he encases your body with his own. He guides your hands into the right position and leans your upper body forward a bit. You can’t help but swallow hard when Mingyu rests his head on your shoulder, pushing himself closer against your back. 

 “Spread your legs a little bit and bend your elbows like this,” his hands come up just under your elbows to move your arms, “make sure to bend your knees too.” 

 You try your best to follow along with his touch and words but it is all too distracting. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, you needed to sit down. Your knees nearly give out when his lips graze from your neck up to your ear. 

 “Straighten your back.” He whispers. 

 Your face is on fire as you do it and you don’t even process it when Mingyu raises the club and hits the ball for you, hands pressing yours firmly to stay in position. He leaves a few lingering kisses on your cheek, praising you for a good hit even though you didn’t do a single thing.  As you sit back in the passenger's seat, you do everything except look at Mingyu. 

 The smirk on his face is telling enough that he was enjoying this which only made your blush deepen. Luckily he doesn’t press you to do it again and you continue to watch him play. By the end of the hole you were so hot and bothered you couldn’t talk without choking on your words. 

 Mingyu happily places a hand on your thigh, kneading very sensually as he drives to the next hole. To his surprise you take his hand off and place it back on his lap. When he does it again and you repeat your previous action he can’t help the challenge right in front of him. Instead of trying a third time he rests his arm behind your shoulders on the seat. His fingers trace patterns along your shoulder and the back of your neck making goosebumps scatter across your skin. You lean forward but his hand comes to lightly grasp your shoulder. 

 “Come on honey. Are you scared you won’t be able to stop yourself if I keep touching you?” You almost scoff but he wasn’t wrong so you just turn your head away from him.

 “Can you at least look at me?” He pouts. 

 You let out a big sigh and reluctantly meet his eyes. The smile on his face makes you want to smack it off, knowing he is going to use this situation against you whenever he sees fit. He had stopped the cart a while ago so it didn’t scare you when he took your face in both his hands and kissed you deeply. 

  “Can you be good until we get home?” Mingyu asks, his voice deep.

 “I think I should be asking you that.” You quip back and he laughs against your lips. 

 Mingyu took his sweet time finishing his game and by the last hole you threatened to leave him here if he didn’t hurry up. You couldn’t even make it out of the parking lot.

// main masterlist , find more fics of seventeen here

[koqabear]

been thinking about older step brother yeonjun who knows you're head over heels for him, who hears you moan his name through the thin walls when you masturbate at night, finally convinces you to have sex with him when you're watching a movie alone, and he knows it's wrong, and you know it's wrong, but it's too good to stop, even when you hear your parents getting home, so now you just have to keep quiet

tw: stepcest. dubcon, smut, mdni.

omfg i’ve been keeping this a secret for months but you literally managed to hit one of my wips right on the nose. who sent you here!!!! get out of my head !!!!

but oh dear... older stepbrother!yeonjun who is so quick to pick up on your attraction to him. thinks it's so cute that you try your hardest to hide it, play along with this whole "new family" thing every dinner-- listening intently as he talks about how life is while he's away at college, attending some big shot university while you chose to stay back home; it's what makes these moments with you all the better, knowing that despite barely being here, he still has you wrapped around his finger.

your parents having a romantic night out while the two of you stay at home, only to have yeonjun ask to watch a movie with you-- "I haven't hung out with you in so long," he'd say, "can't I just hang with my baby sis for a bit?"

smiles at the way you prickle at the term sis, knowing that you think of him as anything but family— he’s heard it, if those thin walls of yours are any proof— but you let him in your room anyway, letting him get comfortable in your bed as you settle down and leave space between the two of you; yeonjun makes sure that doesn't last.

it's so, so hard to resist; he's got you good, knows that you couldn't care less about the movie when he's hovering over you like this, whispering into your ear that "it's alright, no one has to know— just this once, hmm? please?" letting his hand wander between your thighs, feeling the way they open on instinct— warm cunt already dripping for him beneath that skirt you’re wearing, the one that you swore you wore because it was “comfortable”. no other reason.

he watches your eyes light up with shame, skin heated and flustered as you pretend to ignore his fingers that pump into you so nicely, his lips that press soft kisses on the column of your neck, whispering soft praises into your ear— but you can’t fool him, because your need is plastered all over your face; it shows in your hips that buck and grind against his palm, needy clit pressing against his hand and drawing soft whimpers from your lips— and he knows that you couldn’t care less about the movie. it’s not like you could even hear it over the wet, filthy squelches of his fingers slamming into your cunt.

you said you wouldn’t— you couldn’t, it was going too far— and yet you still find yourself pressed into the mattress, breathing helplessly against yeonjun’s pouty lips that make out with yours, sly tongue and teeth playing your mouth in ways you could never comprehend, head foggy and dazed as you take everything he gives you; hips rolling into you as his cock hits you so nice and deep, angling his hips to hit that spot that has you trembling and jolting against him, soft whimpers swallowed into his mouth, eating you up until he’s pulling away to mumble against your lips.

“so pretty— so cute, been wantin’ to have you like this for forever,” groaning at the way you wrap your leg around him, hands on his back pushing him forward so his body’s pressed against yours, “no one’s gonna know, okay? just between us— just for us to know…”

the dread and fear that paralyzes you when you hear the front door open downstairs isn’t matched by yeonjun— while you stiffen and press your hands against his chest, trying to push him away with frantic gasps and tears in your eyes— “oh my god, oh my god, get out!”— yeonjun merely shushes you and pulls you closer; his nails dig into your thigh and he wraps it tighter against him.

“it’s okay.”

“they’re gonna hear us—”

“no they’re not, it’s okay—”

“they’re gonna find out— please, go, i can’t, we can’t be seen like this—”

yeonjun puts his weight fully against you, pressing you into the mattress and flushing the air out your lungs— he places a hand on your mouth, dark eyes glaring sternly.

“be quiet, and they won’t find out.”

you stare at him with those wide, glistening eyes of yours, heart about to pound out of your chest— he gives you a fond smile.

“okay?”

a moment passes, and you gulp— you can feel his cock twitching desperately inside you, the commotion of your parents settling down in the living room downstairs—

and you nod.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

MR. CHU!

❤︎‬ sol wonders if you're interested in him after you ask about his piercings ❤︎‬ solivan brugmansia x gn reader ‪ ❤︎‬ wc: 2k ❤︎‬ content warning(s): yandere ❤︎‬ solivan brugmansia is from the kid at the back being developed by fantasia-kitt

Like everybody else in the school, you never used to pay much attention to the quiet kid in your art class. It really wasn’t until recently, when you had no choice but to shyly ask him if he’d like to be your partner for a class project, that you finally acknowledged Solivan Brugmansia’s existence. 

You don’t think too much of him. Even now, as he tries his best to pose for you as naturally as he can, your mind is preoccupied with the far-more colorful personalities at Olympeius University while you absentmindedly sketch the details of his face. You wonder what Crowe might be up to right now, or if Jess has made any progress with her ginormous crush on Brittney… 

Your eyes flicker up to where Sol is, and you try to pay close attention to the bottom half of his face. He’s a physically attractive young man, but aesthetics aside, you’re more worried about drawing Sol well so you can wring a good grade out of your insatiable art professor. You squint your eyes a bit, leering at Sol’s lips to try to make out all the details. It’s no biggie in your mind, since you need someone to model for you and you’re simply trying to make your drawing as accurate to life as possible, but Sol?

Sol thinks he’s going to asphyxiate from how fast and hard his heart is pounding.

He can’t believe his luck. It took him all the self control in his body not to start panicking and freaking out when you had approached him and asked him to be your partner, and now he got the honor of hogging all of your attention while you used him as a model. Would it be foolish of him to hope that you like what you see? He knows his fashion sense and style isn’t for everyone and tends to make him a target more than an object of admiration, but… you’re different. You’re understanding and compassionate, and maybe you’d find something worth loving in him.

“Hold still… I’m almost done here…,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out just a little bit as you scribble furiously onto your sketchpad. Sol’s heart skips a beat, and while he can feel a rush of dizziness immediately hit his brain at your cute tongue peeking out from between your lips, he doesn’t want to disappoint you ever. 

After a few determined strokes, you nod at him. For the first time since class started, Sol finally lets himself relax. His tense muscles groan as he finally allows himself to shift positions into a more comfortable seated position, and he looks expectantly at you as if he wants to see your creation. You’re like a mind reader, and without him having to say anything, you gingerly hand him your sketchbook. 

“I’m not an artist like you are, but… I tried my best,” you shyly admit. Sol’s breath hitches audibly when you scoot your seat a bit closer to him to explain to him your handiwork, but you don’t seem to notice. “I- uh- don’t know if I did your piercings justice since you have a lot, but I gave them a shot.”

You could have spat on the paper and handed it to him, and Sol would still treasure and revere it as if it were a masterpiece deserving to be displayed in the finest of art museums. Of course, he would never hand it over to anybody and keep it only for his personal viewing, but in his perspective, everything your hands could create was nothing if not holy. 

“It’s beautiful. You should give yourself more credit. You’re not a bad artist at all.” He thinks he’s going to pass out after class from just how happy he is. A shudder creeps down his spine as he relishes the thought of your eyes all over his face and body, him being the only thing to take up the forefront of your mind. What he wouldn’t give to know what you thought of him as you sketched his face. Just knowing that you cared enough about him to draw him makes him feel as if he’s on top of the world, and he can feel a warm flush overtake his pale cheeks. “Don’t worry too much about my piercings. I know metal can be hard to draw.”

“Yeah, but… I just feel a little bad. They look so cool on you.” You flash him an innocent smile, completely unaware of the mental anguish you’re putting the poor lovestruck boy through. “I’ll keep practicing! That way I’ll be able to draw you perfectly by the end of this project.”

His piercings? Cool? Sol’s heart genuinely can’t take this barrage. What is it about you that has him acting this way? What is it about you that makes him want to drag you away from everybody else and keep you all to himself, to worship and to love? The others around you don’t know how to fully appreciate your generosity and light, how you’re kind to everyone, even misfits like him. He’s the only one who knows how to properly care and cherish you, and he can’t let anybody else steal that role away from him. He’s spent so many sleepless nights chasing after your warmth, eating away bit by bit at the safety of the boundaries you’ve put up. 

Nothing can keep you safe from him. 

You don’t know anything about how he feels though. You’re pure and oblivious to his mental turmoil, completely unaware of the sheer effect you have on him. You keep looking at him as if he was nothing more than an eccentric classmate rather than someone you were fated to, just without your knowledge. You peer closely at his face, before lifting a delicate finger to point at his lips.

“Say Sol…,” you ask him, clearly absentmindedly based on how casual your tone is, “How do you kiss if you have lip piercings?”

…

…

…

Why did you have to ask him something like that?

Sol thinks his brain might have ceased functioning the moment you threw him that question. Nothing—absolutely nothing—has been able to reach him as he plays that memory over and over again in his head. Even the jeers of the school bullies or Hyugo’s incessant chatter couldn’t yank him out of his lovestruck reverie. Sol was on cloud nine, replaying the melodic cadence of your voice over and over and over again within his memories. He could never get sick of you or your many details. Every little bit of information he could glean from you was so precious that he could spend the rest of his life in sheer ecstasy at how perfect you were. 

Hyugo was used to it at this point and knew not to question it. But whenever Sol entered into these almost drunken stupors, it was hard for Hyugo to not worry about him a bit. Sol’s cheeks are dyed a ridiculous shade of bright red, and his hands tremble uncontrollably as he fidgets with his fingers. There’s a lopsided grin on his face, and if Hyugo really pays attention, he can make out a lovesick sigh escape the eccentric young man every now and then.

Sol just wishes he could actually peer into your mind and figure out what you thought of him! What made you ask him such a risque question? Were you interested in him? You had to be somewhat, if you initiated the partnership with him and even called his style cool… Nobody else talked about him that way. Nobody else, save for you, found him interesting. What if you had a crush on him too? Was that why you asked him about kissing? Was this your way of encouraging him to amp up his advances?

It meant that you had to be thinking about his lips. About kissing him specifically. Sol could feel his heart rate pick up dangerously again as he imagines your sweet face approaching his, closing the impossible distance between the two of you bit by bit. How many years, grueling moments, had he waited for this to take place? Maybe you’d be shy and only leave him with a quick peck to his mouth. Or maybe you’d be more gutsy and press your lips fully onto his, making out with him in a way that leaves both of you breathless and gasping for air. His heart squeezes almost painfully inside of his chest at the thought of you being so close, doing something so mundane yet so intimate, showing him a kind of romantic affection that nobody else could share with you…

He wants so badly to be the only one in your eyes. Each minute of class with you feels like torture. He wants nothing more than to close that gap. It doesn’t have to be anything big: placing his big hand on top of yours, poking your nose whenever you get distracted, all the small things that come so easily for normal couples. Kissing would just be the first step. What else could come after? There was a whole myriad of things he could dream of. He’d escort you dutifully to every single one of your classes so that everybody in this school would know that you were his. 

You’d spend more and more time together, and surely, one day you’d invite him over to your apartment that he’s secretly grown so familiar with… Just thinking about it makes his skin bristle with excitement. If everything went as planned, as easily as his daydreams made it look, then he could finally have you in the way that he wanted most.

You had to reciprocate somewhat. You just had to be interested in him as much as he was interested in you. That was what that quick question meant to him, your words construed and twisted beyond belief inside of his delusional thoughts. 

Hyugo puffs one of his cheeks out and peers at his daydreaming friend with a bit of concern. “Are you gonna eat your lunch, Sunny?”

Sol doesn’t respond at all. Hyugo sighs and shakes his head before tapping the side of Sol’s arm. 

“I asked you a question!” The shorter man points at the untouched food in Sol’s lap. Sol bristles to life, the hearts in his eyes melting away as they refocus and Hyugo enters his field of vision again. Hyugo points once again at the abandoned food and raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

Sol deadpans. If Hyugo’s presence wasn’t so convenient, he would have sent Hyugo flying to his death from the rooftop for interrupting his precious time with daydream-you. He lets Hyugo take the food before letting his mind wander again, wind blowing through his air as he wonders what you might be up to right now. Were you thinking of him too? Would you be thinking of him even when he’s not within your immediate vicinity.

He wants to see you so badly right now. He wishes he was in class again, for the first time in his life, so that he could have you right next to him and monopolize your time as he pleases. But Sol knows he has to be patient. One wrong step would have his great expectations come toppling down, and he would rather die than live in a world where he can’t have you anymore.

So he makes up his mind there and then. There was no room for hesitation. You had finally noticed him after all of his time lurking in the shadows, and these passive moments weren’t enough to satisate the brutal appetite you had awoken inside of him. He needs more. He needs more of your time. He needs more of your love. 

If you were so curious about him and his piercings, so curious about the way he kissed, then he’d make the answer as simple as it could get.

He’ll kiss you tomorrow and show you just how he does it.

x

[jaysbaefie]

inmate 1697 | psh

synopsis: in which you agree to the jail guards offer for a small fee, you.

genre: prison au

pairing: jail guard!sunghoon x inmate afab! reader

warnings: non/dub-con themes, dom!sunghoon, sub!reader, lowkey ego hurt!sunghoon, oral (m.rec), hair pulling, face fucking? gagging, manhandling, grinding, slight nipple play, cuffing, choking (kind of), doggy, clit play, rough p in v, slight cum play, panty stealing, lowkey sweet!sunghoon at the end?

wc: 3.1k+

a/n: thank you for all the love on my previous fics. make sure to reblog and like, it’s what keeps me motivated to write! enjoy.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

the clearing of someones throat broke you out of your thoughts. the days had blended in together and you could no longer tell what day of the week it was.

you broke the trance that the scuffed walls had on you, peering away from the scratch marks and smears of what you hope is blood and not fecal matter on the walls.

you tune your attention to the figure standing on the other side of the bars, a prison guard. you roll your eyes, "i haven't been screaming or causing a fuss, it's the cell next to mine. trust me, i know it's loud," you explain dryly . you had been receiving the blame for your next door neighbours antics, with multiple guards coming to your cell to bitch you out.

when you don't receive an answer you scoff, shutting your eyes before leaning back against the hard wall. "how would you like to talk to your little brother, __," the voice boomed. your eyes snapped open at the mention of your brother, immediately sitting up right on your hard bed.

you hadn't seen or talked to your little brother for months, your family didn't allow him. saying that your bad habits would 'rub off' on him and that he'd become like you. you rolled your eyes at their words, you didn't deserve to be behind bars and you did nothing wrong—they knew that. yet, here you are.

"how?" you question lowly, now getting up from your bed to walk up to the front. you hadn't gotten a proper look at the guard until now, originally quickly dismissing him. when you were right in front of him you realized how attractive he was.

typically the prison guards that worked at the facility were old stubby men who often could care less about what was going on. they eyed down female inmates, with many of the women taking advantage of them and using them for commissary.

you almost let out a gasp when you saw his sharp eyes piercing straight into yours, he had thick black hair that covered his brows and plump lips that sat flat on his pale face. he was definitely one of the most attractive men you had ever seen and you were now hyper aware of yourself and your surroundings under his intense gaze.

he smirks at your question, "i'll bring you a phone, i'm sure you have your brothers number," he explains gruffly, his eyes raking your body before he juts his tongue out to swipe over his lips.

you swallow harshly, there was a twist to his strange act of kindness. "what do you want in return?" you ask carefully, narrowing your eyes at him as his smirk widens.

you weren't dumb, you knew he had ulterior motives. "aren't you a smart one, cell mate 1697," he muses, his eyes dropping down to your chest to read the numbers printed on your orange jumper.

you instinctively cover your chest when his gaze lingers a bit to long on the area making him let out an airy laugh. you quirk your eyebrow, "well.." you motion for him to get on with it.

"how about this, cell mate 1697. i bring you your phone, you call your brother. then, i come down after 9pm and you let me use your pretty little throat," he suggests with a grin, his hand gripping one of the cells bars tightly as he stares down at your figure like you were prey.

he was an attractive man, surely he didn't need to be doing this to get off.

you scoff, "use me? no. never." he shrugs in response, "if you want to talk to your little brother, you'll change your mind."

he leans down slightly, "i promise, i'll be quick," he almost purrs.

you thought about it for a moment, you knew what he wanted, thats what every guard wanted in return for a little something. you had heard of stories of many guards wanting more than that, weighing out the pros and cons you came to a decision.

"alright," you began before squinting your eyes to make out the small printed name on the corner of his uniform, "officer park sunghoon, i'll see you tonight."

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

he held his part of the bargain, you had gotten a phone a few hours after the meeting. you woke up to something hard under your head, when you lifted yourself from your pillow you noticed the sleek device in the cover of your pillow case.

you gapped at the electronic, it seemed to be a newer model and you wonder why you had received something so nice. you fully expected a flip phone or a shabby one on the brink of death device—not this. that only made you wonder, was there more that he wanted than he let on?

you clenched your thighs together at the thought before quickly dismissing it and fumbling with the phone in your hands. you quickly look around your cell, peering outside of the bars to see if any guards were making rounds. when you deemed the coast to be clear, you tried to unlock the phone—only for it to have a password.

you frowned, this wasn't apart of his plan.

maybe there was more than he let on.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

you awaited for his arrival, it was around 9:30pm when you heard the sound of keys jingling and your cell being unlocked. you didn't dare turn your head, instead you stayed seated and continued to stare mindlessly at the wall in front of you.

anything for my brother.

locking the cell door behind him he stalks up to your figure, looking down at you with his intense gaze. you gripped your bed sheets hard, peering up at him as he takes another step closer—his crotch now in your face.

you swallow roughly, looking down to see his dick strained against his black work pants. your eyes widen when you realize how big he was, a small chuckle snaps you out of your thoughts. before you could look up on your own, you feel his hands make their way into your hair. you let out a small yelp when he yanks on it, causing you to snap your head up.

"you know what i want, __," he rasps, his grip on your hair tightening as he forces your head closer—your face now pressed against his crotch.

you gulp, wincing when he ruts himself against your face—the zipper of his pants scratching your cheek.

"you're going to be a good girl and follow through with your end of the bargain, yeah?" he murmurs lowly as he continues his actions. "you're gonna do what i say to get that password, yeah?"

you nod slightly making him smirk, "good, c'mon take it out."

you begin to reach your hands up to unzip his pants but sunghoon immediately slaps them away, "not with your hands, your mouth."

your breath hitches, your eyes widening at his words. swallowing harshly your teeth bite at his zipper, peering up at him as you pull it down.

sunghoon bites down on his lip, hard, the metallic taste of blood seeping onto his tongue. the sight he was witnessing was worth getting fired for, he'd gone to great lengths to get here after all.

working in an all women prison was easy, he got payed to watch women—with many of them throwing themselves at him. when he first got hired he basked in the attention, but soon after he was disgusted by the inmates behaviours. he was flashed constantly and touched on whenever he got to close.

every time he did rounds many of the inmates would try to seduce him into coming into their cells for a "good time" which he rejected instantly. however, you never spared him a glance—and that hurt his ego.

after asking about you to fellow guards, he had gathered quite a bit of information on you. you kept to yourself, rejected all prison guard advances because "nothing they had to offer was something you needed" and that you were in for manslaughter of your sister.

he made it his mission to find something that he could offer you, digging through your files and searching you up in the system. finally, he found your weak spot—your younger brother.

he discovered that your parents didn't allow you to keep in contact with your brother, and it was something that you talked about often on your in-person visits with family every month. so, he offered you the one thing that he knew you'd have a hard time turning down. in return, he wanted you.

there was something about you that drew him in, maybe it was your looks, your lack in interest in him, or even the fact that you killed your own sister. whatever it was, he wanted you, and when park sunghoon wants something—he gets it.

you struggle to help sunghoon shimmy down his pants, his hand coming down to help you as the clothing drops to the floor. he makes you work for his dick, nuzzling against his crotch to get him out of the slit in his boxers.

sunghoon enjoyed watching you struggle, furthermore, he enjoyed how eager you looked to please him.

finally, his cock sprung out and hit your cheek causing sunghoon to snicker. your eyes widen when you see his uncovered length, surprised that it looked bigger that you originally thought he was.

"well, you just gonna look at it?" he asks, his voice heavy and strained.

immediately, you took him into your mouth. sunghoon lets out a chocked moan, his hips bucking as you try to adjust your mouth to his girthy length. your eyes water when his tip hits the back of your throat, gagging slightly as you swallow around him—driving him crazy. he forms two makeshift pig tails on the top of your head, using them to steer you and control what pace you were going. he almost combusts at the sight of you, your eyes drowning in tears and your mouth full with his cock. he could see a mixture of drool and his cum leaking out from the sides of your mouth, your grip on his thighs getting painful.

"f-fuck, look at you," he grunts, his pace getting faster as he feels his balls tighten. "taking my cock so well in your pretty mouth."

you moan at the praise, the sound vibrating against his length making his eyes roll back in his head. you feel your jaw start to ache and sunghoon forces his dick deeper and deeper into your mouth, your nose touching his pelvic bone as he lets out a series of curses.

you suddenly swallow around him, his length twitching in your mouth as he bucks his hips—chasing his high. "fuck m'gonna cum, o-oh," he lets out a guttural moan as he feels himself reach his high.

"you dirty bitch, you want my cum? yeah? you want your mouth painted with me? hm?" he moans wildly as you desperately nod your head, thighs squeezing together to relieve the pressure between your legs.

you let out a small whine when you feel his cum coat the inside of your mouth. he pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting from his dick to your mouth making you flush in embarrassment. you swallow his cum, the taste salty and slightly tangy but manageable.

you feel yourself disassociate for a moment only for sunghoons voice to break you out of your trance, "you did so good for me, __," he praises, his hand leaving your hair as it comes down to softly caress your face.

you hum in response, "the password?" you manage to say, your voice coming out hoarse and strained. you thought that sunghoon just wanted his dick sucked, little did you know he had more in mind for tonight.

he snickers, "i'm not done with you yet," and with that he's hauling you up from your bed and manhandling you to face the other way to press your behind against him.

you gasp at the sudden change, "b-but.." you tried to formulate your displeasure however sunghoon had no interest in hearing your voice. he forced two of his fingers into your mouth, the sudden intrusion causing you to gag. "you were more well behaved when you had my cock stuffed down your throat," he sneered into your ear, his minty breath fanning against your ear making you shiver.

you cried against his fingers, hands coming up to try and remove his digits from your mouth. sunghoon 'tsks' before he's reaching behind him and snapping the cold cuffs against your wrists, securing the restraints tightly behind your back causing you to cry out louder. you struggled against him, "why are you being difficult, 1697? you agreed to this," he says harshly.

you shook your head, or at least tried to, you had only agreed to blow him—nothing else.

"surely you knew better than to trust me when i said i only wanted one thing from you," he snickers, his hand wandering around your figure making you flinch.

his hand reaches for the waistband of your pants, yanking them down harshly along with your panties. "be a doll, step out of them, __." when you shake your head 'no' you hear a loud slap ring through your cell, your eyes widen at the sensation of your butt burning. he had smacked your cheek, now holding it in a bruising grip. "step out of them," he says again as he begins to roughly massage your other cheeks making you writhe.

you shakily step out of your pants, in fear that he'd go for your face next. he smiles against you, reaching down to grab your panties from the pile on the floor.

he raised his eyebrows in shock when he notices how damp the material was, "you like this? don't you, 1697," he laughs. you hated how your body betrayed you, how it showed him that you wanted this.

he quickly removes his fingers from your mouth, replacing it with your soiled underwear. his hands grip your waist as he grinds himself against your bare behind, his cock resting on your lower back.

his hands move under your shirt and up your stomach, reaching your covered chest. he yanks down your bra harshly, causing your tits to spill out. his greedy hands fondle and play with your nipples as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck—inhaling deeply.

"you're so perfect," he murmurs against your skin, sucking on the skin of your neck as he ruts himself against you. you continue to struggle against him, your protests being drowned by the fabric stuffed in your mouth.

you manage to spit your underwear out, "get off of me you sick bastard!" you screech, twisting and turning your body as you attempt to kick him. sunghoon snickers, his hand coming up to grip you by your throat as his grip on your tit becomes punishing.

"you want to play like that? i can play like that," and with that your being bent over your bed, face smushed against your hard mattress with your ass in the air.

"i was going to take care of you, 1697. get you ready for my cock, stretch your pretty cunt out so it could take me with ease. but you just want to be a brat so bad," he tsks as he runs his pointer finger down your slit. you attempt to bitch back but sunghoon pushes you face down into your bed, holding you down as you struggle to breathe.

"guess i'll just have to show you want happens to disobedient little sluts like you," and with that he begins to push his cock into you. his grip on your head falters as he bottoms out, a strangled groan leaving him—your walls fluttering against him.

you let out a cry when you feel him stretch you out completely, clenching around him to try and accommodate his thick cock.

as soon as you stopped clenching around him, he began to pound into you at a punishing pace—his snapping wildly as grips onto your waist.

"f-fuck, you're taking my cock so well in your hungry pussy," he moans, the sound of skin slapping together and your whimpers filling the cell.

sunghoon could combust at the sight alone, your ass jiggled with every thrust he delivered. his grip on your waist was painful, you were sure that the area was going to bruise later on.

his thrusts become brutal as he chases his high, smirking when he feels your walls flutter against him—indicating that you were just as close as he was.

"you gonna cum with me, pretty? gonna cum all over my cock?" he cooed before hes gripping the back of your neck to bring you up so your back is arched and the crown of your head touches his chest.

he grips your throat as he continues to fuck into you, his other hand reaching down to play with your clit as you struggle to keep down your moans.

"answer me," he demands when you don't respond to his question, his grip on your throat getting tighter—your vision getting blurry.

you nod, "y-yes sir, m'gonna cum on your big cock. please let me cum," you cry out, all morals flying out the window as your body shakes—feeling yourself near your high.

sunghoon smirks, "yeah? go on then, cum all over my dick," he spits as he begins to draw firmer circles on your clit. he feels your body twitch against him before your walls grip him tighter, which he didn't think was possible.

you let out a shriek as you feel your high wash over you, sunghoons following soon after. he releases into you with a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as his pace slows down.

"milking me so good, hm? perfect pussy," he murmurs against you, planting small kisses on your head as he rides out his high—making sure to empty himself out into you fully.

he pulls out of you soon after, allowing you to fall onto your bed before he's tucking himself back into his pants. he watches his cum dribble out of your cunt, suppressing a moan that threatened to leave his mouth at the sight. he runs his fingers down your slit, pushing the cum that was falling out of you back into your cunt.

smirking when he sees your fucked out state,  your body still shaking from the orgasm.

he un-cuffs you before he puts your pants back on, fixing your attire as you look at him dazed. he finds your panties on the side, quickly grabbing a hold of them before he's stuffing them into his pocket—a keepsake if you will.

he grabs your blanket and pulls it over you before he's crouching down.

he plants a small kiss on your forehead, "password is 1697," and with that he walks out.

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[missyonmission]

NSFW - no minors - smut with plot - Part 1

Plot: His reputation precedes him - brilliant, arrogant, and unapologetically wild. And you, unfortunately, are caught in the orbit of his influence. Your submission gives him a power rush like nothing else and he enjoys toying with your emotions, knowing that you will always come back, that the push and pull of your relationship is a game he has mastered long ago.

In a fateful night where harsh punishments and the desire to destroy the last remaining bits of yourself turn into passionate kisses and the desperate need to give and receive affection, Sukuna loses himself in what has become the most important thing in his life. You.

Warnings: dom!Sukuna - submissive!Reader - sadist/masochist dynamic - power play - pet play - (semi public) punishments - humiliation - degrading - wounds/grazes (but Sukuna takes care of them) - marking (light biting, scratching, talk about branding) - fingering - cum eating - missionary - mating press - begging - crying - forced orgasms - overstimulation - somno

Words: 10.094

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Sukuna, with his striking features and undeniable charm, is a force of nature on campus. His reputation precedes him - brilliant, arrogant, and unapologetically wild. And you, unfortunately, are caught in the orbit of his influence, the one who had become his unofficial partner in a chaotic dance of sadistic pleasure and complete devotion. The term "girlfriend" has never applied to your relationship. It was more of an unspoken agreement, a complex arrangement of mutual attraction and deep-seated frustration.

This specific night, the campus frats are hosting a party, a vibrant affair where students are gathered to celebrate the beginning of the new semester. The party is already in full swing when you see Sukuna approach a girl you don’t recognize. Like always in public, he outwardly showed you that he couldn't care less about you. That you are just a toy to play with whenever he gets bored. Before your very eyes, Sukuna leans in and kisses the girl. The act is bold and brazen, a clear message that he had no intention of respecting your feelings. In his mind, you belong to him, and he can do and treat you however he wants.

He is honestly impressed with how much your need for his attention, your submission, and your desire to please him runs. It always gives him a power rush like nothing else and although Sukuna would never admit it to anyone, you are his favorite out of all the pets he played with in the past and he's sure there will be no one quite like you in the future as well. In a twisted way, he is just as dependent on you as you are on him.

When Sukuna finally returns to your side, he is smirking, eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and amusement. The kiss is over, but its effects linger heavily in the air.

“What’s wrong, huh? What?! Do you still think you have some kind of claim on me? I was just having some fun. Don't look at me like that. Jealousy is not a good look on you." Sukuna’s voice is laced with an almost playful, mocking curiosity. He knows exactly what is wrong. He just wants to see how you would react. Sukuna thrives on chaos and manipulation. He enjoys toying with your emotions, testing the limits of your patience and loyalty. His pride and self-absorption always make a straightforward apology impossible. Not that he's ever in the wrong, in the first place…

Instead, he revels in the control he has over you, knowing that you will forgive him, no matter how much he provokes you. He knows you will come back, that the push and pull of your relationship is a game he had mastered long ago.

"You should know by now that I’m not exactly boyfriend material." There is a condescending smirk on his lips and a silence between you, a heavy pause that seems to stretch into eternity. Despite his cruel games and his inability to show genuine affection, you are drawn to him in a way that was impossible to ignore.

Unlucky you…

You knew you had it coming your way. You two weren't official, hell, you aren't even anything serious to begin with, and Sukuna made sure you never forget that fact. But tonight, you couldn't control yourself, couldn't control the overwhelming emotions of hurt and desperation. You already made a snarky comment about him flirting with some random girl earlier this evening, letting your bitterness and jealousy shine through, and you know he hates when you act like that. You should have known he would feel the need to assert dominance and would try to belittle and humiliate you for it.

"Are you feeling better now?" You grit out through your teeth, the alcohol loosening your tongue and making you say things you usually wouldn't.

“Come on, don’t be like that. You’re acting so childish,” Sukuna retorts, his voice laced with condescension. “I understand that you’re jealous, but you’re making a fool of yourself in front of everyone.”

Sukuna reaches forward, grabbing your chin with a firm grip. His gaze pierces into you, a challenge lurking behind his amusement. “If you can’t handle this, then perhaps I should just go find someone else who can. After all, there are plenty of better options…” His voice trails off, leaving a heavy threat looming in the air.

His words sting, and you have to clench your hands into fists at your sides, to not start tearing up. You know he's right and that it isn't just empty threats. Sukuna is handsome and rich, and he could be charming if he wanted to be. No matter the girl he wanted, he would be able to get her.

"You're an asshole, Sukuna." Your voice is laced with anger and frustration, and you swat his hand away from your chin, turning around to leave.

“Now, now, don’t be disrespectful.” Sukuna’s voice thunders with authority as he swiftly closes the distance between you, his hand grabbing your wrist with surprising strength.

“You’re not going anywhere. I own you. You’re mine, so you better start acting like it.” Sukuna’s voice is low and threatening, laced with a possessiveness that sends a shiver down your spine. “Now apologize for calling me an asshole, and then we’ll talk about how you can make it up to me.”

You can't help but whimper quietly at his low, threatening tone. His voice is laced with authority and doesn't leave any room for further argument or bratty attitude. You know he doesn't handle disobedience very well.

You swallow hard before speaking quietly, almost inaudible but clearly defeated. "I'm sorry, Sukuna..." Every fight in your body has already left you completely, replaced by the urge to do everything he wants you to do, just to get on his good side again.

Sukuna nods, satisfied with your apology. “That’s better. See, it’s not so hard to accept your place, is it?” He smirks, his hand slowly releasing your wrist. “But, I’m not finished with you yet. I still need retribution for your insolence.” Sukuna’s voice is low and dangerous, his crimson eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “Kneel.”

"What?" You freeze up, looking around for any passerbys. You are in a relatively secluded area, a little away from the main party behind the building, but anyone could just walk by any minute.

"Here? But- but... We are in public... Everyone could- Any minute someone could walk by and-" You try to protest, to reason with him, despite knowing it will be pointless. Once Sukuna's in the mood and has his mind set on something, it was impossible to talk him out of it and you know you will just follow whatever he wants from you, even if it's making you feel uncomfortable.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Sukuna growls, his impatience evident. He grabs you by the hair, his grip tightening almost painfully. “Listen to me and listen well. You are my property. I own you, body and soul. So if I tell you to kneel, you kneel. And you’ll do it now. You don’t get to refuse my orders. That’s not up for debate."

He grabs your shoulder with a rough shove, forcing you to your knees. In this moment, Sukuna embodies a terrifying presence. His words echo with a primal authority that makes it clear that he is not a man who accepts dissent.

You wince out immediately when he grabs your hair and shoves you to the ground. Your knees are scraping against the rough surface of the asphalt beneath you. The skintight short dress you wore specifically for him does nothing to hide your curves, showing off so much of your delicious, currently unmarked skin that it should be illegal and Sukuna gets the best view down your cleavage from above.

You look up at him, one of his hands still buried in your hair with a painfully tight grip, and tears start to brim already around your lashes.

Sukuna smirks, his crimson eyes narrowing with cold satisfaction. “Now, let me remind you of your place…” He whispers menacingly.

He leans down, his hold on your hair unwavering, his eyes locking with yours. He lowers his voice to an icy, dangerous tone that sends another shiver down your spine. “If you ever dare to call me an ‘asshole’ in public again, I’ll make sure you never walk straight again. Is that clear?”

"Yes, Master Sukuna." You breathe out the words in defeat, surrendering to his will. Whatever he does to you, no matter how hurtful or cruel, you both know deep down you will enjoy it. You both are a little twisted, getting off on this power dynamic, and that's why this thing between you works so well in the first place.

Sukuna chuckles, pleased with your submission. “Good girl.” His voice is a low purr, filled with satisfaction. “Now, show me how obedient you can be.” He releases his grip on your hair, taking a step back, his crimson eyes fixating on you. “Crawl to me and kiss my feet. Beg me for forgiveness as best as you can, little pet.”

Sukuna is always one for the creative and most humiliating punishments. You whimper and start to crawl over to him on all fours. Your ass is on display for everyone who would walk behind you, and your knees are still painfully scraping over the ground. Every time you reach up to him, he takes some more steps back, just to humiliate you further.

When you finally reach him, you bow down in dogeza out of respect and press your forehead into the dirty ground for a moment before your face comes up just slightly, pressing gentle kisses to the top of his shoe.

Sukuna watches as you crawl to him, his eyes filled with a cruel, sadistic amusement. He loves it, the way you have no shame when it comes to him and follow his every whim… Oh, he trained you so well.

He smirks, clearly delighted by your humiliation. His voice is thick with a sadistic satisfaction. “Very good. Now, thank me for letting you kiss my shoes. And you better be convincing enough, slut or I might just have to let my anger out differently.”

He steps back, smirking at your humiliating position. He's already lightly stepping onto the fingers of your left hand, not enough to actually crush it, but enough to already make it hurt. He pauses for a moment, his lips curling into a grin. “Beg to be mine once more. But this time, make it… passionate. Make it memorable.”

You let out a small cry of pain when he steps onto your fingers but you know that this is nothing in comparison to what he is actually capable of, in comparison to what he can really do to you and has already done in the past. You hold back any more sounds, biting your tongue to suppress the tears.

"Thank you…” You whimper out the words quietly, again, giving in to his wishes and beg so prettily for his consideration. “Thank you for letting me kiss your shoes. For letting me serve you, taking me in and helping me act properly. Thank you for reminding me where I belong. That I belong to you, Master Sukuna. Please forgive me and my rudeness. I wasn't thinking clearly, the alcohol and-" You stop immediately knowing that making excuses will only further infuriate him. He doesn't want to hear them. He doesn't care why. He just cares for you acting accordingly.

Sukuna's smirk widens, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes as he listens to your pleas and excuses. "Well, you're learning faster than I thought. I must say, I'm impressed. So..." He lets out a low sigh, his grin never faltering. "I suppose I can forgive you. But it's not just forgiveness you need. You need to show me you're truly grateful and remember your place."

He leans down, grabbing your chin with a deceptively gentle touch. "From now on, you call me Master in public, and your behavior must reflect that. Understood?”

You swallow hard at his words, your lips are trembling, and you want to refuse. You know you should refuse. This is going to be one of the most publicly humiliating things he ever told you to do. You know he will take full advantage of it as soon as you nod your head so stupidly, like you always do to his commands. This will not only stay between you two anymore, like he always wanted. This will not leave your friends wondering which guy you always sneak away with and for whom you are acting so differently than your usual self. This will directly tie you to Sukuna and will make everyone around you realize who the man is that has brainwashed you into a completely different person. This will haunt you for the next few years until you finish college and maybe even after that.

And weirdly enough, at the same time, you can't help but squirm a little in front of him on your knees. The image he creates, the possibilities of scenarios running through your head, it excites you to no end.

"Yes, Master Sukuna." You avert your eyes down to the ground in shame.

Sukuna's smirk transforms into a sinister chuckle. "Good girl. I knew you'd come around." His hand moves from your chin, gently patting your head like you're some kind of dog or a pet. Sukuna's smirk only widens even more at the sight of your shame and submission. He's enjoying you being a willing victim for his cruel games of pleasure. Your agreement to his demand only fuels him further. "Now... I think it's time for some special lessons to help remind you of your place."

He reaches down, taking hold of your chin again and lifting it up with a firm grip. "I want you to crawl alongside me all the way back to my dorm room. We have a lot of things to go over and learn. Get moving, pet!”

You let out another pathetic whimper when he kicks your ass as a sign to start moving and casually walks towards his dorm. You look around for other people, but luckily, you don't see anyone in sight. You quickly crawl after him, trying to keep up with his pace, following him.

When you arrive at his dorm, your knees and hands are hurting all over. They are scraped, red, and a bit bloody with small stones, dirt, and grass clinging to the wounds.

Sukuna walks inside, turning his head towards you with a sinister smirk. “Crawl inside, bitch. You know how I like you better on your knees anyway.” He watches you crawl inside, his eyes trained on the curve of your ass in that short dress, that hugs your perfect body so beautifully.

He kicks off his shoes, gets a cloth and a bowl of warm water, and sits on the couch in his dorm, leaning back comfortably. He pats his lap once, silently telling you what to do.

You crawl up to him and in between his spread thighs, looking up at Sukuna through tear filled eyes and silently sniffle. You place your hands with your palms to the ceiling on either of his legs.

When he starts to take one of your hands into his and clean up the wounds, you blink up at him in confusion. His touch is gentle, almost tender and caring. He never did something like this in the past, and you never expected him to act like this either.

Sukuna doesn't say a word, his fingers cleaning and treating your wounds with practiced efficiency. The silence is broken only by a low hum emanating from Sukuna's chest. It's soothing, almost rhythmic.

He dabs antiseptic on your skin, his touch surprisingly gentle. Every now and then, he leans down to inspect a wound more closely, blowing a cool breath over it to ease the inflammation. He doesn't say anything at first except for a low murmur of comfort, the sound vibrating against your skin.

His voice is low and rumbling deeply in his chest as he works. "It's important for a pet to be taken care of. And it's my responsibility to do so... as your master, of course." He pauses, glancing down into your eyes, and for a moment you think there is something close to intimacy between you two, not only physical but a connection that runs deeper than that. "Tell me, pet.... Are you afraid of me?”

You look down at how he cleans up the wounds, thinking over his words and question for a moment. You look up at him again, watching his face and how his eyebrows furrow in concentration when he dabs the warm washcloth over the wounds.

You finally decide and shake your head 'no' slowly, your voice barely above a whisper to not break the comforting silence. "No. No, I'm not…”

You don't know if this is one of his games, a trick question to see if his past lesson stuck and a chance for you to prove your loyalty. Or maybe he wanted you to answer like this just to turn your words against you and inflict more pain? Whatever it is, you're sure you have answered his question truthfully. Are you afraid of him? No. No, you're not. Right?

He takes a bandage from the med-kit on the side and slowly wraps each finger of your right hand. It's a gesture of care, almost compassionate. When he finishes, he presses a light kiss on top of each bandage.

“That's good..." He murmurs, his voice low. “A pet should respect their owner, not be afraid of them...”

Once he's done, he reaches up, stroking your hair affectionately, still holding one of your hands with his other. "I want you to understand that my discipline and training come from a place of genuine care. Your pain serves as a reminder of your subservience, it does not stem from a desire to harm you."

His tender touch and kisses on top of the bandages are making your heart ache. It's a side of him you’ve never seen before, no matter how hard your training and punishments were. The most aftercare he ever showed you was a warm shower and the opportunity of you staying the night instead of getting kicked out.

Sukuna himself doesn't know if his words are actually true, but there is one thing he is aware of, he doesn't want to imagine his life without you at his feet anymore. He shifts on the couch, reaching behind his back to fluff the pillows slightly. "Come here, pet.”

You scramble up from your knees and onto your feet, wanting to follow his order as fast as possible, hissing slightly when the untreated cuts on your knees start stinging. You sit down on the couch, placing your legs over his lap, and he starts to clean the wounds on your knees with the same tenderness.

Sukuna nods, his face serious as he tends to your scraped up knees with efficiency. The wounds are painful but nothing too serious. As he works, his voice is low and soothing. “Good girl... Just breathe..."

He notices a particularly deep cut and pauses, a brief flash of concern crossing his features. He takes a cotton swab and dabs some antiseptic on the wound before placing a small bandage over it.

He doesn't speak at first, simply focusing on his task, his touch almost feather-like. But then, he speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to know something, pet... Your submission is a sign of your strength. It takes courage and trust to give yourself to someone else like this.”

You lean into his side more, your shoulder is brushing against his arm, and your head starts to rest against his shoulder, with your legs still draped over his lap. It's a position you never found yourself in with him, so intimate and loving.

"I trust you, Sukuna- I mean, Master Sukuna..." You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to anger him again.

Sukuna smirks, a proud glint in his eyes. "Good girl..." He murmurs, his voice low and gentle and places a kiss against your temple.

He finishes bandaging your knees and shifts on the couch, gently pulling you into his lap so that you're straddling him. His hands roaming over your body, touching you almost possessively.

"You've been such a good pet, taking your punishment without complaining. You deserve a reward, don't you think?" He whispers, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"Thank you, Master." The prospect of getting a reward makes you excited, but you know it's best to treat forward carefully. Sukuna's moods could always swing full force to brutal and relentless if you phrased your sentences wrong.

"I'm sorry for today... So, so sorry for earlier, Master Sukuna..." Fresh tears well up in your eyes at the thought of disappointing him, your mind driven into a deep submissive headspace already from your punishment.

Sukuna chuckles, his hand coming up to gently wipe away your tears with his thumb. "Ssssh, shh, little pet..." He murmurs, his voice gentle, soothing even. "You did well. You took your punishment without complaint or resistance. I know it was difficult for you..."

His lips caress your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, his breath hot against your skin. "You deserve a reward. Tell me, what do you want?”

"Can I please... Can I please get a kiss? A real one?"

It sounds like a simple request, but it really isn't, and you're scared to overstep a boundary of his and make him mad. You want him oh so desperately to kiss you on the lips, something he never did before with you. It was one of the rules he set. He didn't like the intimacy behind it, but all you can think about from the first time he took you in a bathroom at some frat party is to feel those perfect lips. His lips that have explored every inch of your body other than your own.

"A kiss?" He murmurs, his voice tinged with amusement. He knows how desperate you are for that kind of intimacy, how much you crave it.

He leans closer, his lips hovering just a few inches above yours. It's almost like foreplay, the anticipation building up as you wait for him to make the next move. "You want me to kiss you? Are you sure you've earned it, pet? It'd take a lot to make me kiss you after your behavior earlier... And I don't know if your little performance was enough to warrant a real kiss…”

You desperately want to close the last millimeters of distance between your lips, but you know he would probably kill you if you did it without permission. Instead, you just freeze at his words, a shiver running down your spine, and you can feel yourself starting to tremble in his lap. You're scared, but not of him. You're scared of being denied the only thing you think you ever wanted.

You didn't know what to do. Your brain shuts down while you try to think of something, anything, to convince him to give you that kiss.

Sukuna's hand grasps your chin, firmly holding your gaze. His eyes bore into yours as if to search for something deep within your soul. "Come on, little pet..." He whispers, his voice low and husky. "Show me you deserve it. Show me your obedience... and maybe, just maybe, I'll reward you with a kiss."

His words are a challenge, a test of your devotion and willingness to submit to his will. “Now... What do you want to say to make me change my mind and kiss you? Or perhaps you changed your mind and want something else?”

"No, wait!" You speak up louder than you intended to, the desperate need and distress obvious in the way your tiny fists come up to his chest and grasp at the material of his designer shirt.

"S'kuna, please... Master, please~ I'm sorry. I promise to behave in the future. I promise! I'm sorry. Please~! Just- just…” Your brain frantically tries to come up with something good, something that would impress him and prove your devotion and loyalty in a way you know he needs it.

“I'll… I'll let you do that thing to me! The one you always wanted." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know there was no going back. Sukuna's eyes are gleaming with excitement already. You would like to blame the remaining effect from the booze at the party for your careless words, but you know that's not it. You have just fallen so hard and fast for the man in front of you, that you lost your mind, your will to be your own person with your own rights and your brain is solely thinking about his twisted forms of pleasure.

Sukuna always wanted to brand his name into your perfect little body, but you desperately refused, making it a hard boundary. One he surprisingly respected without ever pushing you too far, like for everything else. Although it always swirls in the back of his mind whenever he sees your ass jiggle during doggy or your hips buck up while you are sprawled out in his sheets, the only thought when his lips trace your collarbone or his hands grip at the flesh of your waist.

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise, not expecting you to offer to fulfill his deepest desire. "You... you'd willingly allow me to brand you like that? Even though you were so adamant about refusing in the past?"

He pauses, his eyes searching your face for any signs of deceit or hesitation. But all he finds is raw, desperate need. "Are you absolutely certain, pet? Once it's done, there's no going back. It will be with you for the rest of your life.”

You pause, a slight hesitation when you realize the weight of your words once again and the permanent consequences that come with it. You swallow hard, your gaze locked onto his. You are genuinely scared. Not of him, but of the fact that you might lose him and might lose this moment between you two. Your decision is made, you want to do this. For him, to please him and to get the kiss that you crave so much.

"I know." With your submissive headspace right now, you're definitely not in the right place to make important decisions like this, but you don't care. You need it, desperate to feel his lips brush against yours. Your eyes drop down to his lips, fixed on them like they are the most precious thing in the world.

Sukuna stares at you for a moment, studying your face. And then, a small smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. "Very well... Come here."

His fingers gently stroke your cheek as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. He pauses there for a moment, his eyes closing as he relishes in this rare moment of tenderness. "You really are..." He murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "...mine. Aren't you, pet?"

And then, finally, he kisses you.

The moment his lips touch yours, you can feel your body heating up and your skin tingle. It's as if you are set on fire, a feeling of belonging spreading through every vein and clouding your mind and judgment even more. His thumb still brushes against your cheek, and his teeth sink into your bottom lip, making you gasp. His tongue teasingly darts against your lips, and you open your mouth immediately to grant him the desired access. Both of his hands are cupping your face by now, tilting your head further to deepen the kiss.

Sukuna's tongue immediately invades your mouth, like it's exploring and mapping out every corner. His kiss is intense and possessive, demanding submission and surrender so naturally that it is overwhelming. One of his hands slides down to the nape of your neck, pressing you even closer, his fingers tangled into your hair.

And for a few moments, there's only the heated dance of your tongues and the sound of your shared breathing filling the air.

You don't even try to fight for dominance in the kiss. You don't want it, you don't need it. You don't want to be his equal. You want to be his property. You want to be his and want to be taken care of by him. The kiss is intense but not only in your desire and lust for each other but also in the feelings both of you communicate with it. Something in his demeanor is different now. The more intense the kiss grows, the more tender and loving his touch becomes. It's almost as if he would harbor actual feelings for you.

Sukuna's kisses become more passionate, his mouth moving against yours with a burning need. He whispers against your lips, his voice a husky growl. "Mine..."

His hands begin to roam over your body with a possessive touch. The way he touches you, it's like he's claiming you, making it clear that you belong to him. But his touch, while intense and possessive, lacks its usual roughness and cruelty.

Your own hands start to mimic the motion, sliding under his shirt and feeling the warm, muscled expanse of his abdomen and up to his chest. You can feel the fast beating of his heart against your hand, and your hips start to grind down against him. On any other day, he would have already beaten you up for putting your hands on him without permission but right now his tongue is just continuing to explore every corner of your mouth, tasting and savoring every inch.

A low rumble sounds in the back of his throat, almost like an animalistic growl, as your hands sneak their way under his shirt. He doesn't break the kiss, his tongue continuing to explore your mouth with an almost possessive hunger.

And then, without breaking the kiss, he stands up with you in his arms as his hands grip at your thighs, pulling you close against him. “Bedroom... now..." He growls, the look in his eyes burning with an intense need.

When he picks you up effortlessly, you let out a gasp of surprise against his lips, holding onto him tightly while he continues to devour your mouth like a man starved.

He is always dominant in every interaction, demanding perfection and complete obedience from you and during sex, he always does and takes what he wants without giving you the opportunity to decide something for yourself. You love your usual dynamic, but this feels different. You touched him without permission and initiated this moment but didn't receive punishment. Sukuna is handling you with utmost care and affection, something that you’ve never received from him before.

He walks over to the bed, carrying you in his arms like you're made of glass. He gently lays you down, the covers soft and comfortable.

Sukuna hovers above you, his crimson eyes locking with yours. Without a word, he leans down and kisses you again, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender motion. His hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, caressing your skin with a gentleness that's foreign to him.

“What’s happening to me...” He murmurs under his breath, almost like he's trying to understand it himself.

You didn't even hear his quiet murmurs, your ears ringing from the overwhelming feelings inside of you. Your head is spinning, and you can't think clearly, hands tugging at his shirt, wanting it off of him desperately.

"Kuna~" You call out to him and despite his desire for power and your rule of calling him master every time you address him directly, he can't help the rush of arousal in his lower region at the nickname you just gave him.

Sukuna grunts at the nickname you used, his eyes narrowing with a predatory glint. "Impatient, are we?" He taunts.

He sits back in between your thighs and slowly removes his shirt to reveal his toned chest and stomach, covered in intricate tattoos and some scattered scars.

"Don't worry. I'll give you what you need..." He reaches down, pulling you closer by your hips. One hand gently caressing the curve of your thigh and the other sliding under your knee, pushing your legs open.

You hiss slightly when he spreads your legs a little further. The wounds from your earlier punishment are still hurting badly.

Your eyes are trained on his skin, on his tattoos, and the way he moves in the dim moonlight shining through the window. Your bandaged hand wants to reach out for him, but you stop midair, a flicker of uncertainty and fear crossing your eyes, and you're not sure if you're allowed to touch.

Sukuna chuckles, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you. "You can touch me without permission... tonight..." He reaches down, fingers gently brushing against your thigh, his touch feather-light with a hint of possessiveness.

Leaning in, he slowly starts to trail kisses along your neck, his tongue lingering for a moment on the pulse point. You can't help but tear up, your lips trembling, and a shaky breath leaves your lips. When he leans down, your hand automatically comes into contact with the bare skin in between his pecs, and you moan out at the warm feeling underneath your fingertips.

His hands slide beneath your back, fingers tracing the zipper of your dress before deciding he's too impatient, and he just rips the flimsy fabric into useless pieces. When he rips off your dress to gain better access to the expanse of your skin, you gasp out, and your other hand is coming behind his neck, gently playing with the strands of his pinkish hair.

Sukuna's lips continue their exploration of your body, leaving a path of hot, wet kisses along your collarbone as he moves down. His teeth nibble at the sensitive skin of your neck before he kisses his way across the collarbone and to your shoulder, where he would usually leave his marks. He gently bites into the sensitive area as if he could sense the significance of this spot. He keeps teasing you, trailing his kisses lower and lower down your chest, his tongue flicking out to taste your heated skin.

Sukuna's hands reach down, fingers wrapping around your ankles and lifting your legs around his waist before he leans back in, his lips capturing yours in an intense kiss. His tongue dances with yours, seeking pleasure as his hips start to grind down against you, his hard length growing to its full size.

"I want this... I want this so much..." He murmurs, his hands grasping your hips possessively, almost to the point of bruising as he nips at your neck. "Need this... need you..." One of his arms wraps around your lower back, supporting and bringing your body even closer to his. His other hand is resting high up on your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm under his hot palms.

"You..." He groans, his voice rough and husky, filled with desire. "I... You're mine."

His hand in between your legs moves slowly to your core, gently parting your folds and settling between them as two fingers start to explore your already wet heat.

You're a mess of moans, gasps, and whimpers. Sukuna knows your body like the back of his hand, knows every sensitive spot, and every way to touch you. You already gave your body and soul to him, but tonight, he gives you a part of himself, something he has never done before. The two of you are completely oblivious to how things might change between you if you continue this passionate night with each other. You both are only focused on the feelings each of you has hidden beneath the surface for a long time, one deeper than the other.

When he starts exploring the inside of your body with his fingers, you can't help but arch your back into him more and more, your hands gripping at the strands of his hair tighter. You're not used to him making sure you're well enough prepared. Foreplay was never one of his strong suits. He didn't deem it necessary for his own pleasure. His gentle and loving touches are sending your senses into overdrive. What is going on? "Sukuna! Master! Please~”

"Shh..." He murmurs against your lips, feeling his words brush against your skin like a gentle melody. He whispers low, almost like he's speaking to himself.

"I promise... I promise I'll go easy on you." He assures, his voice a raspy breath against your skin. He whispers your name like a silent prayer, as if he craves the taste of it on his tongue.

"I'll give you anything you want, anything you need. Just... just don't ever leave..." He looks down at you, his expression intense and dominating, but also vulnerable. There are layers upon layers of pain, suffering, and sadness hidden behind his crimson eyes. It's a glimpse of the broken man behind this facade.

He's a man possessed, a man who has never known love or affection, and is now experiencing these emotions for the first time. He's intoxicated with this new high, the way you make him feel. He savors every second of it, as if he's afraid it could all go away.

With an intense look in his eyes, he leans down, his lips brushing against yours again. He kisses you deeply, passionately. "I want you... I need you... I need to be with you... All I want is you."

He's not used to expressing himself, not used to being so honest with his feelings. He's never felt so vulnerable, so on edge. His thumb grazes your bundle of nerves, intensifying the pleasure. "Relax. Relax and let me take care of you... I'll make sure you feel good, pet... just trust me…”

You nod your head, tears brimming in your eyes. "Trust you. Trust you so much. I'm yours, Sukuna. Always was, always will be..."

Your limbs are clinging to him like he's your lifeline, like he's the savior in the dark, when all he ever did was corrupt and ruin you. He destroyed you, broke you down into pieces, and put you back together with practiced precision to make you his perfect toy, making you depend on him and his touch.

"You are mine, little pet..." He whispers against your skin as if to remind you of your place, his words a low rumble in his chest. "You were... always mine. I want to hear you say my name... say it... Call me that stupid name again."

His hand moves with a natural ease as if he exactly knows what to do to your little body covered by his own like a safety blanket. He doesn't break eye contact, his fingers stroking over your sensitive spot again and again. He takes satisfaction in the way you react to his touch, how your body trembles, and twitches beneath him. He looks down at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that takes your breath away. His fingers continue to move, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

He leans down, gently capturing your lower lip between his teeth, biting down on it. "Do you have any idea... how badly I want to just keep you... forever?"

He kisses you deeply, his fingers wrapping gently around your chin, tilting your head back to give him greater access to your lips. "Kuna~ want to come, please. Please, please, please." The nickname he demands is falling from your lips again without much thinking about it.

Your legs start to tremble, still tightly wrapped around his hips, and you're bucking desperately into his touch for more. His lips are on yours again, taking the little breath away, you are able to catch in your lungs. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders tightly, breaking the kiss with a loud whimper, burying your face in the crook of his neck and biting down gently into his shoulder to keep yourself grounded somehow.

"Shhhh." He murmurs against your skin, his lips gently brushing against your shoulder. "It's okay... just relax... You don't have to beg anymore, pet... I know what you need... let me take care of you." His fingers move again, slowly and carefully, each touch filled with a careful tenderness and patience that you're not used to.

He can feel you close up around his fingers, the tightness making him groan against your skin just thinking about the way your wet cunt usually clings around his cock as he whispers. "I've got you... I've got you... relax.”

And then it happens, your body clenching down onto his fingers, spasming around them as you're falling over the edge into a deep pleasure. It feels different, unlike every other time he brought you to this point of ecstasy. It is hitting you in waves, and it doesn't seem to stop. You let out tiny whimpers, moans, and cries of his name. Your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Kuna. Kuna, please. Master Sukuna, I-”

He watches you closely, an intensity filling him as he listens to your pleas, the feel of you clenching around his fingers, the sound of his name leaving your swollen lips. "Just let go... give in... I've got you." He murmurs, his words like a gentle caress, easing your worry and fear as he continues to move his fingers, bringing you right to the edge again.

You can't stop whimpering and moaning, crying out his name when he doesn't stop to move his fingers and brings you over the edge for a second time without giving you time to catch your breath. You can feel the tears running down your cheeks, but today they don't come from the humiliation and shame he usually inflicts on you and not from that delicious pain either but they come from the purest form of pleasure you have ever experienced in your life.

"You're so pretty like this, pet." His voice is low and husky as he speaks, his thumb rubbing against your clit. His fingers continue to move, gently coaxing you through the powerful waves of ecstasy that rock through your body. He slowly withdraws his fingers, slowly bringing them up and teasingly slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digits.

"Kuna~" When he withdraws his hand and takes his fingers into his mouth, tasting your release on his tongue, you are the one who lets out a strangled noise of need. Your hands are reaching out to him, desperately clutching onto his pants. "Need more. Want more, please. Need you…”

He looks at you with his eyes filled with an unfamiliar warmth and gentleness. "More?" He asks, his voice husky and low as he watches you squirm and writhe beneath him. “What a little greedy pet I've got... but you've been so good for me... I guess you deserve a little reward, huh?”

He leans down, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Your taste floods his senses, making him moan into the kiss as his fingers start to slip into your tight, wet heat once again.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, mixing with his own intoxicating taste and scent. When he slips his fingers inside again, you arch into him, your chests flush against each other. It was unexpected. You were sure he would take you for his own pleasure, now that you already got your release, but instead, he solely takes care of you once again.

You mewl, oversensitive from your previous two orgasms and as much as you love his touch, you can't help but try to wriggle out of his firm hold. "Kuna~. 's too much. 's too good." You breathe out the words in between kisses.

"Just let yourself feel good, pet. It's what you wanted, right? More?" He murmurs, your quick breath hot against his lips as he continues to kiss you. "I've got you."

His other hand slips under your back, supporting you against him and allowing you to ease yourself into it and keep you from wriggling away. "Tell me what you need... what you want..." He whispers, his voice deep and seductive in your ear.

His fingers continue to work, coaxing you back into that blissful place, your cries and moans growing more desperate as you cling to him. You can feel yourself on the edge again, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. You need him. You need to be connected to him in the most primal way possible.

"Want you. Want to feel you. Not your fingers. Need more. Kuna, please~!"

Your trembling fingers try to fumble with the zipper of his pants. Your legs are still twitching around his hips, your lips quivering from overwhelming pleasure, hands not being able to completely free him from the confines of his clothing because they're shaking too much.

"Need me?" He murmurs in your ear, a playful smile pulling his lips into a smirk as he watches you struggle with the zipper on his pants. "Is that so? Good thing I need you too, princess…” He whispers right in your ear, sending shivers through your body when a nickname so beautiful falls from his lips. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues.

"You just needed to ask..." He purrs, his hands retracting from your burning heat and coming to help you with the zipper.

"Can you please just take me? Like you always do? Need to feel you... Want you deep... Want to be yours..." Your teary eyes are trained on his every move when he slides his fingers out of you and opens up the zipper of his pants, discarding them to the floor.

Your breathing is ragged, coming in short gasps of air, and your eyes are hazy, clouded from lust. Your lips kiss swollen and red from all the intense kisses you shared. Your whole body is aching to be anchored to him.

"So needy..." He murmurs, his voice like velvet in your eardrums. "So eager... Good thing only I can give you exactly what you need..."

His words are a promise, a promise of ownership and possession that sends a shiver down your spine. "I'm not going anywhere... Not without you..." You breathe out the words desperately with tears still running down your cheeks, and you think you might die if he's not immediately sheezing himself inside of you.

His hands come to caress your arms gently at first, his hands moving to grab your hands, intertwining your fingers with each other as he moves atop of you. "I'm here... I'm here. Breathe for me... breathe…”

When you feel him, just the way you wanted to, you let out a gasp. His perfect shape is filling you up completely, so deliciously like it always does. Your eyes go wide at the intrusion before they flutter close in pleasure, and you screw them shut tightly to accommodate. His hands are soothing, still intertwined with yours to reassure you and ground you, and you just breathe through the stretch, like he told you to.

His hands grip yours, holding you tightly as his lips brush against your temple, his voice a gentle rumble in his chest. "Just let yourself feel good. Let me take care of you, princess. I'll take care of everything... You don't have to think about anything. Nothing but this… Just feel me, feel me inside you... I'm right here... Right here... I'm not going anywhere..." He murmurs into your skin, his words a soft, low whisper against your ear.

Again, this is so unlike his usual self. Normally, he takes you how he wants with no regard for your feelings or capability to handle him, but tonight, he lets you adjust, slowly easing you into things before he starts moving. Your body relaxes against his, letting him in and making it easier to move more freely.

"Thank you.." Your voice is so quiet it's barely audible when you whisper those words out in a breath right next to his ear. You don't really know what you're grateful for, for him, for this reward he gifted you, for this moment... All your thoughts circling around him, all your senses finely attuned to him.

"Shhhh... no need to thank me. It's my job to take care of you..." He whispers, his words like a sinful melody as he slowly begins to move his hips, keeping a careful rhythm. "I promised you... I'd make you feel good..." His breath catches as he whispers in your ear, the feeling of you around him almost overwhelming.

He sets a slow and steady rhythm, building up an intense pleasure for the both of you. When he starts to increase the pace, rocking his body against yours and going deeper and deeper, you can feel yourself tightening up around him again, coming close to that blissful edge for another time that night.

"Kuna~? 'm close. Wanna come... Can I come?" Your kiss swollen lips are out in a small pout, your eyes begging him for permission because your mind is conditioned to him, to his orders, to not do anything against his will and you're not sure if you can even come without his permission anymore.

"Shhhhh... You don't have to ask for permission this time... You can come... just let yourself feel good. That's all that matters... And I've got you... I'll make you feel good." He murmurs against your ear, his voice a deep, husky rumble as he whispers reassurance, his words like a soothing balm that takes away all your worries.

He begins to move his hips faster, working you closer to that sweet release as his own pleasure builds.

You free one of your hands from his grip to grasp the bedsheets beneath you, and bury your face in the pillows to muffle your sounds. A few broken cries leave your lips as you start to drool into the sheets when you hit your orgasm. Sukuna's name is spilling from your lips like a mantra, and your legs lose their hold onto his hips, falling open against the mattress.

"That's it... that's my good pet..." His voice is like a melody, smooth and gentle as he encourages you, his words like a reassuring promise. "Just relax... and breathe... I'm right here..."

He slows down, giving you a chance to recover as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You're doing so good... I'm proud of you.” He whispers against your skin, his lips moving down to kiss the pulse point on your neck. "Do you want to stop? Or do you... want to feel even more?”

The thought of him stopping his movements, putting a halt to this moment right now, feels wrong, so wrong. He can't stop. You don't want him to stop. Not before you can feel him spilling his release into you. You need him to fill you up, make you completely his. You're tired and exhausted, but fight through it and lift your legs up, wrapping them around his hips again as a sign to continue.

"Don't stop. No stopping, please. Wanna continue. Wanna make you feel good, too. Need you to finish as well. Please use me, Master Sukuna.”

He looks down at you, his expression tender as he gazes down at you with that warm light shining in his eyes. "You really are my perfect little pet... Aren't you, pretty? Always so eager... so well-behaved..."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss, as he begins to move again, his pace slow, his movements tender and intense as he works to push you further towards another sweet release.

His hands come around to slide over the back of your thighs, stopping behind your knees and pushing them up to your chest. The new angle is deepening your connection further and makes you gasp out at the stretch. Again, you try to wriggle beneath him, not sure if you want to escape or buck into him for more. You look up at him through half lidded, teary eyes, and your whole body is moving along the mattress with each movement. Your hands hold onto his biceps, pressing your breasts together for a nice view and your nails dig into his skin.

"Are you... Are you close? I can't do this any longer... Feels too good... 's too much."

"Almost...... Almost there...... almost there." You can hear the hint of strain in his voice as he pushes his climax to the very edge. "Just a little longer... just keep on going...... Keep on going..." His movements become more intense and erratic as his climax nears. His arms press your legs even further into your chest, putting you into the meanest mating press, as he leans down to kiss you again.

When he leans down, you almost can't breathe with the way his body is crushing you, and your legs are pushed back beyond comfortable. By now, he is basically just grinding into you. The feeling so intimate it makes your head spin.

"Can't hold any longer, Kuna... Can I please come? Need release... Please~?" Your bodies are pressed together, your chest flush against his, and you swear you can feel his racing heartbeat matching the rhythm of your own. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your nails dig into his arms so tightly they almost draw blood.

"Come for me... come for me now... that's an order." He commands breathlessly, his eyes locked with yours. His voice sends shivers down your spine and a rush of pleasure through your body. "Come... now..." He whispers, and you can feel his words like a caress against your skin.

You don't even have a choice. Through the past months of pleasurable torture, he broke your whole body and soul, now trained to follow his every command. When the order leaves his mouth, you fall over the edge into ecstasy.

You come around him, hard, your release triggering his own, and his pace becomes erratic, almost animalistic. You can feel him filling you up to the brim, making you feel full and satisfied, your belly swelling up with how much he releases. As your bodies continue to move together, he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

"Kuna~. Sukuna. Kuna, please~." You mewl his name into his mouth, again and again, completely lost in the feeling and the way your body twitches and spasms around him. "Love you. Love you so much, Master Sukuna.”

His arms wrap around your body tightly, pulling you even closer as your back arches off the mattress. "That's it... you're doing so... good..." He whispers into your skin, his voice tinged with pleasure and something else... affection, maybe?

After you two ride out the waves of pleasure, his body relaxes against yours, and your muscles go limp as the pleasure recedes. The only thing left is the aftermath of the pleasure and a deep contentedness. Your brain feels mushy, your ears ringing, and you can barely keep your eyes open. You're still twitching slightly, and your breathing is far from calming down after the intensity of the past hours. No coherent thought is left and he can see in your eyes, that he did a thorough job in fully satisfying you and leaving you fucked dumb. Your lips are slightly parted and drool starts to escape the corners of your mouth.

"There's that look... that look I love so much..." He murmurs into your ear, his voice husky and raw from his own pleasure. "So cute... so perfect... my pet... my beautiful princess..."

His hands move lower down your body, his fingers tracing over the curves of your hips and the soft swell of your stomach until he rests them there, as if staking his claim.

"Mine..." He whispers possessively.

He rests his hand on your abdomen for a few seconds, making you close your eyes at the feeling of his warm, sweaty palm against your skin. But then he starts pressing onto it, a gasp escaping your lips when his seed gushes out of you and down between your ass cheeks to pool onto the sheets. You're barely conscious now. The exhaustion is starting to take over, but you try to power through it. You know he wouldn't like you falling asleep right now, and you wanted to make him feel just as happy and satisfied as you are right now.

"What a mess you've made..." He murmurs, his eyes dark and possessive, his hands slowly trailing down your body to rest gently over your thighs as you cling to him. "That's a good look on you... I should keep you like this..."

He leans down, pressing his lips to your throat in a gentle gesture of affection. "My good, perfect little princess..." He whispers into your skin, his voice a deep, melodic purr that sends shivers down your spine.

His fingers travel along the skin of your thighs before carefully coming in between and shoving his seed, which's been leaking out, back into you, making you mewl out in overstimulation. Your hand wants to come up to his wrist to stop his actions but you think better of it at the last second because it's still drilled in, that you're not allowed to touch him without permission. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your face turning sideways to cry out into the pillows, and your hips are trying to buck away from his touch on instinct.

When you begin to protest, his grip on you grows firmer, the possessive tone in his voice deepening as he whispers into your ear. "Don't even think about it, pet. This is my mess, my claim to make... and you will accept what I give you.”

He murmurs a mix of praising words and your name possessively, his words sending shivers down your spine. "I'll make sure of that. I'll make sure you don't have any doubt about who you belong to.”

Your eyes are tearing up at his words. You don't want to take more. You don't know if you're able to take more, but your head is automatically nodding at his command, and his fingers pick up their pace again. You would never deny him anything. You couldn't even if you wanted to.

Usually, there rings a hint of anxiety with it, afraid of the consequences of not following his orders, but right now, after everything that happened tonight, you just want to be a good girl for him. You want him to do everything he wants to you, no matter what it is. At this moment, you think you would die for him. You would actually let him kill you. Just for him to be proud of you.

He can see the internal struggle in your expression, the way your body responds to his words. "Good... good... just let yourself feel good,... just feel me..." His voice is a soothing, deep rumble as he whispers into your skin, his words like a gentle breeze on a hot summer day. "No more thoughts. Just focus on this. On us."

His hands move with practiced precision, coaxing you toward that sweet, sweet release. His touches are gentle but insistent, like the touch of a lover instead of the rough, demanding touch you've come to expect.

You don't know for how long he kept going that night. He made you come multiple times on his fingers and on his dick. His release is gushing out of you and causing a white, creamy ring to form around his length while he takes you from one blissful high to the next. He's stuffing his seed back into you multiple times, making you taste yourself and him, making you tremble and cry and beg until the sheets are messy and soaked in both of your cum.

You tap out multiple times, the pleasure of his gentle caresses, the pain of overstimulation, and the exhaustion after a long day become too much before somewhere in the middle you lose consciousness. That didn't stop him from keeping going, taking everything he wants from you even when you're not conscious anymore to feel it. He needs it. He needs you, and just for tonight, he will relish and embrace this new feeling inside his chest.

[moonlight-joy]

Forged in Flames

Fandom: House of Dragon

Summary: You are a highborn lady forced to marry Daemon after the Targaryens crush your family's rebellion. Resentment simmers between you, but when Daemon takes you dragon-riding for the first time, sparks ignite in more ways than one.

Pairing: Reader/Daemon Targaryen

The halls of the Red Keep were colder than you had expected. Despite its grandeur and the famed heat of the dragonlords, the stone walls carried a chill that no fire could chase away. You trailed behind Daemon Targaryen, your new husband, as he led you through the castle. The marriage was a political necessity—a punishment, really. Your family had dared to defy the might of the Targaryens, and this union was the price of your house’s survival.

You hated him.

And yet, here you were, bound to him by fire and blood.

Daemon stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a smirk that set your teeth on edge. His silver hair gleamed in the torchlight, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. “You’re scowling again,” he said. “Careful, my dear wife. Your face might freeze that way.”

“Better a frozen scowl than whatever expression you call that,” you shot back, lifting your chin defiantly.

His smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Ah, there it is. The fire. I was beginning to think the rumors about your family were exaggerated.”

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to stand your ground. “I don’t need a dragon to burn you, Prince Daemon.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “And yet you’re still standing here, unscathed.”

The tension between you crackled like a storm on the horizon, unspoken resentment and unacknowledged attraction swirling in equal measure. But before you could muster a retort, Daemon stepped back and gestured for you to follow him once more.

“Come,” he said. “It’s time you met Caraxes.”

The dragonpit loomed before you, a massive structure that reeked of fire and sulfur. Your steps faltered as you approached, the sheer magnitude of what lay ahead sinking in. You had never seen a dragon up close, let alone ridden one. The thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, though you refused to let Daemon see your fear.

Caraxes was already waiting, his elongated, serpentine form coiled like a predator ready to strike. The Blood Wyrm’s crimson scales gleamed in the sunlight, and his eyes… his eyes burned with an intelligence that was almost human.

“He’s magnificent,” you admitted reluctantly.

Daemon’s expression softened, just for a moment. “He is,” he agreed, his voice tinged with pride. “And he’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. Before you could dwell on it, Daemon turned to you, his usual smirk returning. “Well? Are you going to stand there gawking, or are you ready to ride?”

“I…” You hesitated, your confidence faltering. “I’ve never ridden a dragon before.”

“Good,” he said, striding toward Caraxes and motioning for you to follow. “It’s about time you learned.”

With a mixture of trepidation and defiance, you allowed him to help you onto the saddle. His hands lingered on your waist as he adjusted the straps, his touch sending an unwelcome warmth through you. Once he was satisfied, he climbed up behind you, his arms caging you in as he took the reins.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “And try not to scream.”

Before you could reply, Caraxes launched into the sky, his powerful wings propelling you upward. The ground fell away beneath you, and a gasp escaped your lips as the wind whipped through your hair. The sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating, a rush of adrenaline unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Daemon’s laughter rang out behind you, and despite yourself, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. For a moment, the weight of your resentment and duty lifted, replaced by the sheer wonder of flight.

“Not so bad, is it?” he called over the wind.

“It’s… incredible,” you admitted, your voice carried away by the breeze.

The flight ended all too soon, Caraxes landing gracefully on a cliff overlooking the sea. You dismounted with Daemon’s help, your legs unsteady but your heart racing with exhilaration.

“You did well,” he said, his tone unusually sincere.

“You sound surprised,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted, his gaze lingering on you. “There’s more to you than I expected.”

You frowned, unsure whether to take his words as a compliment or an insult. “And there’s less to you than I expected,” you said, your tone laced with sarcasm.

Instead of taking offense, Daemon laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound that took you by surprise. “You might actually survive in this family,” he said, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement.

The moment stretched between you, the tension from earlier shifting into something different—something warmer, more uncertain. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man beneath the bravado, and it left you both intrigued and unsettled.

Daemon stepped closer, his expression softening. “You may hate me now,” he said quietly, “but one day, you’ll understand. We’re bound by fire, you and I. And fire always burns brightest when it’s shared.”

His words left you breathless, your heart pounding as he held your gaze. For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the unspoken possibilities between you.

Perhaps this union wasn’t a punishment after all. Perhaps, against all odds, it was the beginning of something new.

Something forged in fire.

Please support my work with like and comment

[figutii]

Hiii🪄 saw you were asking for AK Jason requests! I am a sucker for a xfem!reader who gets rescued by AK Jason. And maybe after he can’t get her out of his mind kind of vibe. Hope this is okay 👀 love your blog btw❤️

Thanks xxx

ak! jason todd x fem! reader

hey baby thanks& for the idea!! i went off ig so of there are still ideas let them in! thx

! don't be a dick and reblog creators' works. i see no reason for ppl to open tumbr accs only to not spread the work they liked. i absolutely hate like spams w/o reblogs - it demotivates us writers since it reaches no one. box convos are also open! talk to me about jaybird fr.

a litany of what-ifs and existential dilemmas fill your days and nights - another round from a game boy casette that urges you to walk on crumbly ground before falling into the deep abyss.

everything is grey. from the sky to the bricks that lay at the end of the path. rats and cats peek from underneath the sacks of rubbish, their eyes painted in the blueish lights by the beams that penetrate through the rooftops.

a single pack of black silhouettes falls over you, their steps clicking against the concrete. you stiffen at the ridiculosity of your situation. you are worrying only to attract more. they stand somewhere close, blue and red LED lights mockingly reaching into this vile corner of gotham.

you are sealed off the rest. it's disstressing- knowing that no one could hear you even though you are in the open.

before you can cling onto your possessions, he flies across - a real-life knight in shining blue armor. you blink a second time, the criminals run off. a blur of grey and blue before he is somewhere in the nowhere.

"watch out." in all manners non-human, from the tone to its robotic sound.

when the helmet slowly turns to survey you he hates how you don't even attempt to run away. take your things and just sprint off for god's sake. frozen in time and space, eyes goggling as he has an arm up.

another sheep of the herd that senses danger from him. how bad that it doesn't matter - it never will - as another judgement against him will dry out from a lacking source of care.

the hook is still warm, about to catapult him to the sky to rescue another defenceless being in this hellhole of a city. again and again until non of them are anywhere near his streets.

he dissapears.

a savage screeching echoes, "THANK YOU!"

your hands fall to your sides, hoping that your voice was somehow heard louder. droplets fall down, it's rhythm so comforting that you stare at the same empty wall. you wouldn't forgive yourself if you didn't try that moment.

the arkham knight is not someone to attach to people, not when his past hunts him down every skyfall. after his death, he has been replaced, his memories and imapct left on the sidelines by whom he deemed was worthy to be called father. the very same person that promised to protect him in the new chapter of his life.

kids cling onto him whenever he safes them out of dangerous situations. they would cry into his shoulder and admit how scared they are. then at the end of the shift, they hurry off to their family members - fearful big orbs looking up, hiding behind the adults until he is gone.

he is needed until he isn't of use.

when a simple gesture… a simple action… a simple word such as a swift thank you reaches him even through scurrying rats and ravens, he is taken back. a scream so childish yet deeply profound. those criminals must have pushed you to the edge. a cry from within to show a short sign of gratitude. to him.

he remembers those eyes of yours, despite flickering patches that he hasn't made up yet. another fit of idiots and high-ego mobs trying to rule his city, another damsel in disstress here and there and batman - he replays your voice.

the same routine repeats itself. it's when he stands on the same rooftop that he shamefully realizes it. he scrunches his brows, a look to the left and right before he starts to work his way up through adjacent streets and buildings. lamps shine down on bread crumbs that are being picked apart by birds. some parts flicker, others are in the pitch dark.

the stone gargoyles watch him move, balconies and terraces devoid of live… until white emits from one of the high rows of windows. he knows it's non of his business but at the same time he wants to know, for his own good.

a wooden door confines the small surface of light. a bed, a desk and an open shelf of spilled pen, books, some socks and lit candles. what gets his attention first is you - how you sit on a chair which has left marks on the carpet and tiles beneath. the knight observes as you lean against your palm, the other holding a pocketbook. he can't read the title. the cover pattern doesn't help either.

in retrospect he would blame and shake himself to the ground with how unordinary this action of his is - no matter if it's from a vigilante or personal view. yes, he already knows he can't. he is not allowed to. that doesn't mean he is going to pry his eyes off you from the distance. it will be a little secret of his - a treat for the meantime.

the novelty of the knight's discovery of honeyed milk. it's nothing unheard, yet, he finds himself wanting to know its alluring aroma in a fatal position of desperation. a little comfort.

[iimplicitt]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET PT. I | CL16

part one - part two

charles leclerc x fem!character

a/n: i feel bad for charles in this one whoops. inspired by dirty little secret by nessa barrett. part two will def have some good luck, babe! undertones. this is short and not that sweet. enjoy the angst

requests open

wc: 1.4k

His phone lit up in the dark room, casting the space in blue luminescence. He knew who it was, he didn’t need to check. It was practically routine any time she came to a race weekend. Charles was at her beck and call, always groveling. It had been that way for years.

Her dirty little secret, kept hidden from the world. He was hers. Charles kept telling himself he was okay with that but every now and then that little creature would crawl up from the depth of his mind, reminding him that she wasn’t his.

It wasn’t like they were completely unknown. To everyone else they were just friends. Supportive and caring. Nothing more, nothing less. Charles had to stand there and watch as she ran off with another guy every now and then. Confused but willing when she’d still call him to meet up, knowing it was wrong but not caring because he was selfish that way. He’d greedily take whatever parts of herself she’d give him.

Besides, he was doing it to himself at this point. She’d been up front the moment they decided to cross the boundaries of what had been an innocent friendship. They had lied there, tangled up in his sheets with city lights gleaming outside of whatever hotel they had been in. Her head rested against his chest and he drew circles into her back.

“Don’t give me your heart,” she had whispered. A warning. Either for him or herself, he didn’t know.

Charles didn’t think much of it until the next day when they were in the paddock and he’d gone for her hand. A little hurt when she slipped away from him, sparing him a glance before walking away to go talk to Lando.

He understood quickly enough when he found them making out later that night in a club.

They weren’t meant to be known, it was just for fun. She told him he could back out whenever he wanted with no hard feelings. They could just be friends, like usual.

He never said no when she called.

Never said no when she pulled him into her room by his shirt, mouth crashing onto his. Saying no never crossed his mind when his hands danced up beneath her skirt.

When baby had slipped out of his mouth one day he hadn’t noticed until she paused and looked at him. Her expression unreadable, her eyes a little sad. Or maybe it was pity.

“What’re you doing that for?”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t know what to say. That kind of intimacy isn’t what she wanted. At least not from him. “Sorry,” he muttered, watching as she turned away from him and texted on her phone. Her new boyfriend, or not quite. Considering they had sex last night, the hickeys Charles left on her hidden beneath her shirt.

He knew what he was doing was awful. But he kept telling himself one day he wouldn’t have to sneak out the backdoor of her house when her boyfriend got home early. That one day it would be his own home she woke up in. He wanted lazy mornings with her. He wanted to take her out, dance, kiss her with reckless abandon.

Charles was patient, he could wait. She’d realise soon enough she didn't need to find comfort in others. Part of him felt like she knew already but was just pushing off the inevitable. It was scary, giving yourself over to someone so completely. He knew in their case it was a bit complicated. Years of pushing and pulling, what ifs and attraction neither wanted to address.

They were best friends, nothing would change that and he knew he’d always be there for her. Despite the distance she tried to put between them sometimes, he knew she’d always have his back.

Monaco had been a dangerous test on his self control. After he won and he saw her from where he was standing on the top step of the podium, smiling at him with tears in her eyes, he ran to her afterwards. Picking her up and spinning her around, the sound of her laughter was heaven in his ears. Charles nearly kissed her, but he caught the warning in her eyes before he did. There are eyes around. Not here. Have you lost your mind?

He was nearly tempted to do it anyway, but after a moment he set her down, using all of his will power to remove his hands from her waist.

“Thank you for being here,” he said instead. Still happy of course, but his smile a little less bright. Hesitant. Not knowing how to act around her.

She gave him her own quiet grin, reaching a hand out to squeeze his own and he felt his heart trip over itself before she let go. “I know how much this race means to you.”

He nodded, taking in any of the small doses of affection she doled out to him.

Though later at the after party, when his eyes danced around looking for her like always, his heart melting a little when he saw her laughing and drinking with Oscar’s girlfriend, he took a few steps forward before coming to an abrupt halt.

Carlos came up behind her, arms sliding around her waist, comfortable. Familiar. She leaned into him, tilting her head back to let him kiss her.

It felt as if the world had been yanked out from under his feet. Hurtling through space, the lack of oxygen making his head spin. His teammate? Really?

When the opportunity arose as he saw her walking off to the bathroom, he came up behind her and grabbed her arm, spinning her around.

She blinked up at him, a bit dazed by the sudden aggression. But as her eyes flicked over his face her lips pressed into a line. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Carlos? Seriously?”

She yanked her arm out of his hold, her brows furrowing as if he were being unreasonable. “What’s wrong with Carlos?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed he was being a little unreasonable. All the times he knew she was in a relationship but he still happily obliged whatever desire she wanted, went down on her whenever she asked, let her nails rake down his back and when he’d pull on her hair the way she liked, when she moaned his name instead of her boyfriend’s… he hadn’t batted an eye.

Lando had admittedly hurt a bit, but he knew it wasn’t much between them. A fling. Excuses were all Charles made. But his teammate? That felt too close. Too real. Too personal even, because why not him? Why not ever just him?

She sighed, as if reading his mind. “Charles,” she started slowly. Tip toeing around the topic. Because he knew she knew. He’d known she’s known for a while now. She knew he was in love with her.

“Listen, I didn’t mean for this to get this far.” She gestured between them and he could feel his heart beating in his ears. “And we have fun, a lot and it’s always been nice but I don’t need to be this grand love of your life.”

He closed his eyes, suddenly wishing he hadn’t come out tonight. Wishing he was anywhere else.

He flinched when he felt her hand gently cup the side of his face, eyes opening to meet hers and he already knew what she was going to say.

“We don’t have to be in love, Charles.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but what? What else was there to say? He’d been a fool, he knew that. She warned him from the start but he had blindly held onto hope.

“I don’t want to be in love.” Her hand fell from his face and she stepped away from him. “Not with you.”

Charles stood there. His ears were ringing. Dazed. Dizzy. Watching as she went off to Carlos, falling into him so easily and smiling as he kissed her.

He should’ve blocked her number. Should’ve deleted it.

When his phone rang two weeks later he stared at it for a moment. Hating her. Hating Carlos a little bit, which he knew wasn’t fair.

He hated himself as he picked up, muttering a Hello and I’ll be over in ten minutes.

tag list: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[insidekatmind]

My Boyfriend's Father~Cho Sang woo

Wearning: +18,smut,age gap,cheating.

A/n: Inspired by a handcanon I read <3

You look at yourself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, nervously licking your clothes. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you wait outside the door, shaking your boyfriend’s hand so hard that his knuckles turn white. "Are you afraid?" he asks with a funny smile. "No!" you answer in a whisper, but your voice betrays you. It’s the first time you meet his father and the idea of making a bad impression terrifies you. But when the door opens and your eyes meet his father’s, the breath is stuck in your throat.Cho Sang-woo is... attractive. Much more than you would have imagined. He has a confident, elegant posture, and his piercing gaze pierces you like a sharp blade. He looks at you for a moment too long, then smiles, a light but intense smile.

“We finally know each other,” he says in a deep voice, holding out a hand to you. When you hold her, the warmth of her skin surprises you. “My son was lucky to find you.” You blush slightly, you are alone under the attention of his father, who tilts his head and looks at you with interest. “So, come here, let me see better,” he says, opening his arms to you. You have no choice. You move closer and he hugs you warmly, but it's the way his hands rest on you that makes you hold your breath. One remains on your back, the other slides dangerously down, touching the limit of what is permissible. It's a moment. Maybe it's just you imagining it. Maybe it's an innocent gesture... or maybe not. When you release yourself from the hug, his smile is still there, reassuring, kind, but something indecipherable shines in his eyes.

“Come on, have a seat,” he tells you, with an elegant wave of his hand. You sit next to your boyfriend, but still feel the warmth of Sang-Woo's hand on your body. And when you look up, he's there, looking at you, with a smile that seems to know something you don't even dare think about. You try to concentrate on the conversation, on the words of your boyfriend who tells you something about his work, his day, but your brain is a mess. Every time you try to turn your thoughts away, the memory of Sang-Woo's touch still burns on your skin. You shouldn't feel this way. He's your boyfriend's father. It's wrong. But every time you look up, he's there. He watches you, attentive, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. It makes you feel vulnerable, exposed, and at the same time… alive. “So,” Sang-Woo’s voice creeps into your thoughts, deep and velvety. “How long have you been together?”

“It's been several months already,” your boyfriend replies, taking your hand with a smile. “She's amazing, Dad, really.” Sang-Woo nods, then tilts his head slightly. “Oh, I can see it clearly.” He says it with perfect calm, yet his voice has something insinuating, almost provocative. You seem to feel it glide across your skin like an invisible touch. Your breathing becomes shorter and he notices it. You can tell by the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a satisfied smile. You try to look away, but it's like being sucked into a vortex. His magnetism keeps you trapped. And the biggest problem is that you like it. You like his look, his control over the situation, the way he seems to read your every hidden thought. “I hope my son treats you as you deserve,” he continues, sipping his glass of wine with an air of complete relaxation. “Because if it wasn't… well, that would be a real shame.”

When the night comes to an end and your boyfriend is drunk, Sang-Woo looks at him with a disapproving glance. “You shouldn't drink too much, Son,” he tells him, his voice stern and authoritative. His tone seems to carry a hint of warning. Your boyfriend apologizes, but Sang-Woo just shakes his head. “Go and rest, I'll take care of her.” Your boyfriend nods and staggers to the bedroom, and you're left alone with him. Sang-Woo's gaze turns to you, his eyes studying you with sharp attention.He takes a step closer, invading your personal space with his imposing presence, and you feel your heart beating faster in your chest. There's something in his gaze that makes you nervous, but at the same time, intrigued. "Let me take you home," he says, and there's no room for refusal in his tone. "It's late. I don't like the idea of you traveling alone."You stare enthralled him for two seconds and then nod. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Sang-Woo's lips curve into a half-smile. He seems pleased with your compliance. "Don't thank me," he replies, his voice low and almost velvety. "It's the least I could do. I wouldn't want you to end up in trouble." He offers you his arm with a small gesture, and you hesitate for a moment before accepting it. His touch sparks a current inside you, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.Sang woo smiled satisfied now that he had you all to himself and he could have sworn that he would seduce you.

As you both walk to his car, Sang-Woo feels satisfied with the situation. He has you next to him at this hour, and he can't deny that the idea of having you all to himself excites him. He glances at you from time to time, noticing the way your body tenses under his gaze, the way you unconsciously cling to his arm. He knows the effect he has on you, and he relishes it.When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a gentlemanly gesture, but his hand lingers a little too long on your waist. You feel his touch like a warm flame on the skin, and it makes a shiver run through you. "Careful," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice, an almost possessive note, that makes you swallow. He's enjoying the situation, and you feel like a mouse in the hands of a cat.

You get inside the car, and the interior is enveloped in an intimate silence. Sang-Woo takes the driver's seat and starts the engine without saying a word. The car glides smoothly on the road, and the only sounds are the hum of the motor and the occasional murmur of the radio. You're aware of his presence next to you, his scent invading your senses, making your heart beat faster. His hand is on the gear shift, and for a moment you wonder if his fingers would feel so good on your skin.

As if Sang Woo could read your mind, he put his hand on your thigh and caressed it as he drove. Just as the thought crossed your mind, you feel his hand on your thigh, and gasp softly. Sang-Woo's touch is firm, and his fingers seem to leave a trail of fire on your skin under the fabric of your dress. He looks straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth curves into a sly smile. He looks like he's enjoying making you feel so out of control, and it drives you crazy.Your breath becomes shallower, and you try to ignore the effect he's having on you. But it's impossible. His thumb moves in slow circles, tracing an invisible pattern on your skin, and it takes all your willpower not to shiver. You're hyper-aware of every gesture, every move he does. You don't understand why you're reacting this way, why your body betrays you so shamelessly.You feel your panties getting wet, and it drives you crazy. You can feel the embarrassment rising in you, and you start to wonder how he will react. Will he notice the effect he's having on you? Will he use it against you? You try to move, to shift positions, to do something, anything to break the tension, but he doesn't let you.

Sang-Woo looks in your direction as if he sensed that something was bothering you and you see the hint of a smile on his lips, almost a challenge. "Everything alright?" he asks, and his tone seems innocent, but you know he's fully aware of the situation.You nod. "Your son is very lucky to have a father like you" you say trying to change the subject while still feeling his hand on your thigh. Sang-Woo's thumb continues to draw languid circles on your thigh, and his amused smile widens. "Is that so?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. "Why do you think that?" His tone is relaxed, but there's something in his eyes, a glimmer of challenge, that makes you feel a shiver down your spine.

You notice him pulling into a parking lot and you lick your lips. "Well you take care of him" you whisper feeling more excited with every touch of his. You curse yourself for wearing a skirt. Sang-Woo parks in a secluded spot away from any other cars, and the silence that descends upon you is almost electrifying. "Yes, I take care of him," he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. His hand moves higher on your thigh, and it takes all your effort not to moan in response. "But tonight, I want to take care of something else..."His words create a shiver deep in your body, and you can't deny the effect they have on you. You're almost panting now, breathless, waiting for his next move. You know it's not right, you know you shouldn't feel this way, but it's becoming impossible to resist. His touch seems to awaken something primal inside you, something you didn't even know was there.

Sang-Woo can feel your excitement, the tension that builds inside you, and it fuels his own desire. He leans closer, his hand now resting on the inside of your thigh, and you're acutely aware of his proximity, his warmth, his scent surrounding you.Your breathing is heavy as you look at him longingly.

Sang-Woo's eyes are fixed on yours, their gaze almost hypnotising. He's aware of the effect he has on you, and he enjoys seeing you at his mercy. "You know, I've been watching you all night," he whispers, his voice dripping with sensuality. "The way you laughed, the way you talk... you're an absolute distraction." His hand slides higher up your thigh, and you gasp softly, barely able to contain yourself.His touch is almost possessive now, and it fuels your arousal even more. You've never felt so alive and so vulnerable at the same time. It's intoxicating, the way he can make you feel just with a few words and a touch. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain control of your own reactions, but it's no use. He has you completely under his spell.

Sang-Woo leans closer, his lips hovering just an inch from your ear. "Tell me," he says in a low, velvety voice, "what do you want?" His hand continues to move up your thigh, his thumb tracing an invisible line on your sensitive skin. You're trembling now, your mind a chaos of conflicting thoughts. You know you should stop this, but you don't want to.You try to find your voice, but all that comes out is a soft moan. "I ..." you stammer, trying to find the words, but your brain isn't working anymore. Your whole body is on fire, responding to his proximity, to his touch, and it makes your head spin.

Sang-Woo chuckles softly, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. He knows he has you right where he wants you, and he's enjoying it immensely. "Use your words, darling," he teases, his breath on your neck sending another wave of desire through you.You take a deep breath and try again, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I... I want you," you manage to say, and the words leave your lips before you can even think about it. As soon as they're out, you feel a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement.Sang-Woo's gaze darkens at your confession, and his smile turns predatory. He moves even closer, his hand fully placed on your hip now, his touch firm and possessive as he draws you closer to him. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. "That's what I wanted to hear."

Sang woo drags you into his lap.Sang-Woo wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap with surprising ease. You're suddenly sitting astride him, your legs on either side of his thighs, and the position is both intimate and intensely vulnerable. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breathing heavy with desire.You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the strength of his muscles under your palms as you put your hands on his shoulders. His hands grasp your hips, fingers digging into your flesh through the thin fabric of your dress. He's in control, and you're fully aware of it. He's the one who set this situation in motion, and you're completely at his mercy.

You were shaking with excitement and Sang woo smiles "I bet you're wet" he whispers moving a finger inside your panties.Sang-Woo's words send another wave of heat through your body, and you're unable to suppress the moan that escapes your lips. You're trembling all over, and every touch of his seems to set your nerves on fire. You're both panting, your breaths mingling, and as the tip of his finger grazes your wetness, you gasp, your knees buckle, and your fingers in his shoulder.

Sang woo smiled and put two fingers inside you and hummed satisfied feeling how wet you were. "My son makes you feel like this too, hm?" he hummed moving his fingers inside your pussy.Sang-Woo's words make you shiver, and you feel a sudden pang of guilt in your chest. But his touch, his fingers inside you, are too much for you to think straight. You're lost in the sensation, consumed by the desire he elicits from you. "No," you gasp, your voice barely a whispers.

You know that what you're doing is wrong, that you should stop, but you can't. His fingers, his voice, they're like a drug, and you're addicted. The guilt and the pleasure mix inside you, a dangerous cocktail that makes your head spin. "Sang-Woo..." you breathe, and it's like a prayer, a plea, filled with need and hopelessness.Sang-Woo's smile widens, pleased with your response. He knows he has you right where he wants you, and no one will ever know about this except for the two of you. It's a secret, a moment out of time. "Yes?" he murmurs, the word wrapped around by his deep, velvety voice. He scissors his fingers inside you, drawing another moan.

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to face him in this state. It's too much, this mixture of guilt and pleasure that clouds your mind. You're lost in a sea of sensation, and Sang-Woo is the one steering the ship. "Don't," you breathe, your words muffled against his shirt. "We shouldn't," and this time it's a plea.Sang woo adds a third finger making you scream with pleasure. "Now?" he teases you. There’s something wrong with you…You can’t stop this…

Sang-Woo’s gaze darkens as he sees the conflicting emotions in your eyes. “Don’t think,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. “Right now, just feel.” He fingering you with passion.

You moan and cling to him tighter. “So good,” you murmur. Your words fuel his ego and he smiles, pleased with himself. “That’s right,” he whispers, his breath hot on your ear. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” It was almost like a statement because he knew he had you in a mess.

You can feel how much this excites him, how much he enjoy the fact that he can make you react this way. And the worst part is that you enjoy every moment of it, despite knowing how wrong it is. Your body betrays you, responding to his every touch, his every word.You're drowning in an ocean of pleasure, and there's no way back. Sang-Woo is in complete control, and you're caught in a net from which there is no escape. The guilt and the desire mix to form a potion of ecstasy that keeps you hooked.

“I'm coming” you moan and then kiss him.The kiss is a desperate attempt to ground yourself, to find a anchor in the storm of emotions that threatens to overwhelm you. And Sang-Woo responds, his lips moving hungrily against yours, devouring you with an intensity that takes your breath away.You feel your body tremble as the wave of pleasure builds inside you, your fingers clinging to Sang-Woo's shirt, desperately trying to hold onto something, anything, as the world around you spins out of control. He smiles against your lips, pleased with the effect he has on you.You tremble with pleasure and come into his fingers as you moan into the kiss.

It seems like there is no break. There is no room for any other thought than that of what was going on here and it was a vicious cirlce of lust and desire. Lust that was consuming two bodies that were unable to restrain themselves and the desire to let this go on forever.Sang-Woo breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes burning with an intense look that makes your heart beat even faster. There’s a smirk on his lips, the satisfaction of someone who knows he has you completely in his power. “You like that?” he whispers, and it’s both a question and a tease at the same time.

He takes your fingers off and licks them, moaning. "You taste so good, honey," Sang woo murmurs in satisfaction. His words make you shiver, and you can feel your body responding to his touch in ways you thought impossible. You're completely at his mercy, and he knows it. His gaze is dark, almost predatory, as he looks at you, his words filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction.

“I need more” you whisper desperately as you grind yourself against him like a bitch in heat, moaning. Sang-Woo's expression is satisfied, a dark smile on his lips. "Greedy," he whispers, tilting his head back and enjoying the sight of you so desperate. "You want more, huh?" And before you can answer, he pulls you even closer, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of you.He undresses you with a satisfied smile. His eyes roam over your naked body, taking in every curve and contour. Sang-Woo murmurs an approving sound as he runs his hands over your skin, his touch possessive and hungry. "You are beautiful," he whispers, his voice low and hoarse.

Sang woo kisses and lick one of your nipples while squeezing the other. He continues this for three minutes. Then he takes it out of your mouth with a pop. You're a mess, shaking with pleasure and desire, and you can hardly think straight anymore. Sang-Woo's hands on you are like a flame that just burns brighter with every touch. You want more, you need more, and the words leave your lips unbidden. "Please..." you breathe, and it's a plea, a prayer.

"Are you that desperate to get fucked by your boyfriend's father?" Sang Woo mutters as he squeezes your nipple. His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel a pang of guilt mixed with desire. This was wrong, but you couldn't deny the effect he had on you. You wanted him, with a fervor that made no sense, and the shame of the situation only added to the excitement. You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with need, and you knew that he enjoyed it.

"I need you," you moan softly, the words coming out as a plea, a desperate need. It's true, you need him more than you'd like to admit, and it scares you a little."I need you," you moan softly, the words coming out as a plea, a desperate need. It's true, you need him more than you'd like to admit, and it scares you a little.

Sang woo smiles and makes you stand up for a second to pull down your pants and boxers and then you stand back up. "Tell me honey, has my son fucked you yet?" He whispers while caressing your ass.

You can almost taste the desire in the air, the forbidden longing that hangs like a heavy mist. His lips were like velvet, soft and deadly, and you couldn't get enough of them. And his words...they were like a dagger, a reminder of the terrible thing you were about to do. “No,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.Sang woo smiles. "Good" he whispers and takes you in with a bang fucking you hard without making you adapt to his Big size.

“You’re so fucking tight” He growls fucking you harder as you moan loudly whimpering in pleasure. You ride him as he fucks you and you moan loudly screaming his name over and over again. You're a mess, trembling with pleasure and desire, and you can barely think straight, let alone utter a coherent sentence. The sound of your moans and whimpers fills the air, and they echo in both of your heads, drowning in the pleasure.“your pussy is heaven darling” Sang woo murmurs as he pushes himself harder into you.

You can barely form a thought, let alone say anything, but the words are like a prayer to you. You're lost in a world of sensation, and his name is the only thing you know to say. "Sang-Woo..." you whimper, and it's like a mantra, a plea to never stop.He's a man in control of the moment. In control of your body and mind. He knows what he's doing and how to make this pleasurable for you. He's driving you closer and closer to the edge, and you feel like you're losing your mind.He slaps your ass and nibbles your ass as he fucks you harder making you scream with pleasure.

You're beyond the point of no return now, completely his. There's no going back, no turning away from what's happening. His words, his touch, they all make you feel alive, and it's overwhelming.

"I'm cumming" you moan and Sang woo moves faster kissing your neck. "Come baby, cum on daddy's cock" Sang woo whispers. You moan at his words and come screaming "Daddy" he grunts and cums inside you.

The words escape your lips without you even realising it, and they're so natural, so unexpected. But when they're out, you feel a sense of shame mixed with satisfaction. It's like a secret you both share now, a small act of rebellion against the world

[matchatarot]

Hi bunny! Tonight’s a new moon in pisces! As a pisces moon born under a new moon, I feel so cozy in this energy. It’s time to align with your soul and tap into your inner muse! What blessings are unfolding for you during this new cycle? To pick a pile don’t overthink it and chose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. Love, Matcha ♡

Pile 1 ₊˚.༄

In this next moon phase you’ll settle in your persona and be more confident in your social standing. You’re connected to your soul and your higher self. You are understanding your uniqueness and wearing it with pride. You’ve been doing shadow work and are learning about yourself, which is making you more and more self-assured. Your path to success is becoming clearer and you know what decisions you need to make to advance in your pursuits. Your third eye chakra is opening. You have hope and you trust in the universe. You know that the universe works in unexpected ways and that you need to remain open for the blessings to flow in. You’re getting to know your unconscious mind and are learning how to manifest to access your desired reality. You are developing more self-assurance. You are choosing to look within instead of looking at other’s blessings. You are celebrating your new found consciousness. You might also go out and have fun with your friends, there might be a birthday or achievement celebration. Your relationships are healing, someone wants to say sorry or reconcile with you. If you’re the one that needs to make amends, people will be understanding and forgiving. Your romantic relationship will deepen or attain an higher commitment level. The good deeds you have done will be rewarded and your peers want to thank you for your great insights.

roses, sunstone, 222, 333, 6, 963hz

Pile 2 ୭̥° ✧

Life’s been testing you. But no matter the hardships of your 3d reality, you are coming back to yourself and taking time for healing. You’re understanding that setbacks and rejections are a natural part of life and don’t define you. You’ll prioritize your intuition when making decisions. You’ll understand that your manifestations can come in different forms and are remaining open to them. However, you are no longer accepting behaviours from yourself or others that don’t align with your higher path. You’re taking time to dive deep into your interests, you’d rather spend meaningful time with yourself than meaningless time with others. You’re learning how to gatekeep your life to protect yourself from the evil eye or monitoring spirits. You are finally stepping in your divine feminine & masculine, allowing yourself to receives the universe’s blessings while still taking meaningful action to attain your goals. You’re liberating yourself from past wounds. Your sacral chakra is healing and you are allowing yourself to be happy. Your self-care and meditations will be extremely fruitful during this moon phase. People see you has being attractive and warm. They feel at home in your presence and may want to give you gifts!

333, 22, 88, 417hz, sunsets, mars, yoga, jasper

Pile 3 ‧₊˚ ♡

You’re locking in bunny! The path you need to take to attain your desired reality seems clearer than ever. You have identified your goals and are now ready to adapt your life’s decisions to fit this new path. You are understanding that hardships may come your way but are trusting yourself to overcome them when time dictates. You’re taking time to meditate or to spend time in silence. This new habit is healing, you are becoming more present and thankful. You are tuning yourself to your life’s purpose and refuse to separate yourself from it. No matter how the day turns out, you are finding ways to make it productive and meaningful. Your crown chakra is open and balanced. You are open to all types of blessings. Your manifestations are flowing in so fast! You’ll get closer to your crush or anyone else you’re trying to manifest. You might meet a new romantic interest or attain deeper commitment in your relationship. Your ex-friends or ex-romantic interests might try to comeback. Your psychic gifts are strengthening, you feel in touch with your soul and the divine in general. Your energy will feel lighter, you seem ethereal and peaceful.

b2b by charli xcx, palo santo, marijuana, silver 222, 11

decks used for this reading: l’oracle du chemin spirituel by Valérie Defour & Valérie Saussez, art oracles by Katya Tylehich, ors et ombres by Stéphanie Lafranque, fairy tarot cards by Radleigh Valentine

[ilium-ilia]

In Limbo

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | mafia!au | masterlist

Chapter Four: push him away

tw: violence, blood, vomit

Your life has become nothing but a game of numbers. 

It’s a grueling game. One that deals in quantitative facts that reminds you of its indifference towards your feelings and needs as you scribble your thoughts and desperate math into your journal. You’ve gotten very good at mental math over the years. Between calculating hours, wages, taxes, overtime… Every day that you live is planned to perfection to make sure you can survive throughout the month. There isn’t a single pence not accounted for, nor pound that goes to waste. 

After completing all your math—multiplication, division, subtraction, subtraction—you calculate the expenses you need to keep yourself alive. Paying your rent keeps you alive. Getting Marco his money on time keeps you alive. After everything, you are left with £79 in your checking account. 

You draw an angry circle around your final number before tossing the journal back onto the mattress. How you’re going to pay for groceries is beyond you, let alone anything else this month. Your teeth nearly draw blood as you bite into your cheek at the thought of using your credit cards and the debt that’s already wracked up on them. 

You work like a dog, just to live off of scraps. 

A sigh dances between your lips as you give your hand a break from writing by tossing your pen next to your journal. You’ve been sitting in bed for what feels like hours. Crunching numbers, setting timelines—the effects begin to ravage your lower back and wrist with a pestilential ache that refuses to relent even as you rub it. 

As your head rests against the wall behind you, you take a deep breath of the fresh air seeping through your open window. It’s always chilly in November, but you go insane being kooked up in the small confines of your studio apartment. Opening your window is the only bit of freedom you can pretend to have without having to put yourself in the eyes of the public. Your teeth sink into your lip as you glance back at your notepad. 

Two weeks. That’s all you have left until the 25th. 

A quiet curse cuts through the silence in your apartment as Simon’s knuckles scrape against the sink spout for what sounds like the tenth time this morning. Several parts lay dismantled and gutted on the counter next to him, along with a various assortment of tools. He scrubs the parts clean with a solvent that leaves the room smelling like vinegar, testing them bit by bit to ensure that they fit together better than they did before. 

You hadn’t expected to need him so soon. At the very least, you wanted to wait to call him until you had a bit more money in the bank, but your sink seemed to destroy itself overnight. No longer a soft drip, it turned into a steady flow that gushed more water than you knew you could afford. When you sheepishly messaged him earlier in the morning, he left almost immediately in order to buy the right materials. 

And now, here you are again, stuck with Simon Riley. 

Bee’s words from the other night ring loudly in your mind. You sure know how to pull them. It’s laughable how she thinks you’re able to attract people as if Simon sees you as something more than a pathetic animal that doesn’t know how to care for herself. Though, you can’t exactly disagree with her. For all his rough edges, he’s an attractive man. Quiet, and polite—kinder than his appearance alone would have you believe. Still, that’s as far as you would ever go. Looking. Admiring from afar. Keeping your distance. Distance is good—it keeps you safe. 

Keeps everyone safe. 

Besides, you’re not sure if intimacy is something that’s meant for you. Every time you think of a hand on your waist or hot breath on your face, your body tenses so much you can feel it trying to rip itself to shreds. The thought of someone’s lips on yours makes you want to scream. The bile in your stomach starts to churn—it’s that hand. His hand. Sliding between your thighs, inside of your skirt, going up, and up—

“There we are.”

Simon’s voice yanks you out of your anamneses, violently snapping you back into the present. Swallowing, you pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as you slide out of your bed and tip toe into the kitchen behind him. Water no longer drips out of the spout, and it now sits as the shiniest item in your apartment. A smile pulls at your lips; you’re grateful to no longer have something quite literally siphoning your finances. 

“Should be set now,” Simon explains as he cleans up the old, calcified hardware from your counter. He tosses the discarded metal into your trash where it falls with a heavy thunk. “Anythin’ else need fixing?” 

“No, nothing else is broken, For now,” you say in an attempt at humor. 

But there is one issue left: payment. 

“Thank you again, Simon. I, uh, don’t really have the money to pay you for it, but I can… maybe comp another meal for you tonight, if you’d like?” you offer. 

“It’s no problem,” Simon hums as he rinses his hands clean. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’m workin’ tonight anyway.” 

This… is not how the conversation is supposed to go. He seemed more than happy to accept free food last time, yet now he’s making it seem like you don’t need to pay him back at all. Of course you have to pay him back. That’s how the world works. It’s how everything works. You cannot take without giving—it’s an equal exchange. 

If he doesn’t want anything from you now, he’s going to want something later. 

“I can drop it off tonight at the club,” you insist, desperate to finally be rid of him. “I’m sure you get hungry at work, and I know for a fact the food there is terrible.” 

Simon hums as he shakes his hands off. He borrows the kitchen towel hanging from the oven to dry his hands as he leans against the counter, tilting his head at you with a shrug. “The chips aren’t that bad.” 

You look him up and down before raising an eyebrow. It’s a silent question—no, a protest—you know for a fact that a small serving of chips isn’t enough for a man his size. 

“Text me what you want, and I’ll bring it after I’m off tonight,” you repeat, tone all but begging for him to accept. 

Twilit eyes study you like you’re a specimen. Simon’s gaze feels like he’s pinning you to some examination board with your legs and arms splayed out. You’re on full display, chest and stomach waiting to be cut into—beating heart visible through your ribs. All he’s missing is the lab coat and scalpel to rip you open. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes. “See you tonight, sweetheart.” 

Work goes by fast. Too fast. It’s busy, which is to be expected of a Saturday, but this is outrageous. Between the takeout orders and the endless wave of patrons, it’s impossible for you to take any sort of breather. The aroma of fresh bread and cheeses soaks so deeply into the fabric of your being that you’re certain you’ll have to scrub yourself in the shower for hours in order to rid yourself of the scent. Worn shoes offer no support to your aching feet, and by the time you’re finally able to lock the door at midnight, you swear your heels are bleeding. 

Really, you should be thanking the universe for this—a blessing in disguise. A busy day means busy hands, and busy hands mean you don’t have to think about the notification waiting for you on your phone, or the meal you’ll have to deliver soon. 

Yet, your phone is the very first thing you reach for the moment you’re able to sit. One of the waiters sits huddled up in the booth across from you, rolling silverware for tomorrow’s service. The clinking hits too dull on your ears, but you ignore it as you unlock your phone. 

Order whatever you want for tonight. Not picky. Come through the VIP entrance. I’ll wait for you. 

Simon’s message came in a while ago. Just before eleven. He’s been waiting for nearly an hour and a half for you to respond, and it’ll be much later by the time you finally get it to him. Groaning, you cup your face in the palm of your hands. You should have waited until he had a day off so he could have come in rather than have you deliver—your need to push things out of the way is coming back to bite you in the ass. 

sorry, it’s been a long night. should be there before one!

“Chip!” 

Your eyes dart away from your phone just in time to see Bee waving at you from the kitchen entrance. Her ponytail is mussed from a night of busy service, yet her beauty is still effortless and captivating as large, sunflower-shaped earrings swing above her shoulders. 

“Bruce is gonna close up soon. Want anything?” she calls. 

“Uh, yeah. Just an order of capellini pomodoro. With chicken please!” you shout back. 

Instead of answering you, she gives you a thumbs up where she shouts your order at the kitchen in Italian. Bruce’s sonorous voice yells back, followed by laughter. 

It’s an easy meal. Something quick. Your usual go-to dish whenever Bruce demands that you let him feed you, which is quite often. You swear he has some sort of sixth sense that can detect when you’re trying to skip meals to save cash. 

A sharp buzz from your phone pulls your attention back down to your lap. Its screen illuminates with the preview of Simon’s response. 

Take your time, sweetheart.

“Christ…” you mumble to yourself.

You wish he wasn’t so kind. It would be easier to push him away if he was as cruel as everything else in your life is. 

It’s an awkward ride on the bus. Warmth seeps into your lap through the thin, styrofoam takeout box that holds Simon’s dinner as the world passes by you in a blur through shiny windows. There are two other women on the bus with you—you feel guilty for being grateful at the lack of men. Everyone avoids eye contact with one another as a woman in scrubs types away furiously at her phone, and a woman who looks two seconds away from puking rests her head against the cold window. 

All three of you exist simultaneously, yet so separate from one another. For once, a part of you is glad that you’re not alone. 

You lugubriously exit the bus as it comes to your stop and stare at the intimidating building a few meters down. While the inside is lit plenty well, you can’t say the same thing for the outside. Shrouded in a thick numbra, lights can hardly cut through the darkness far enough to properly illuminate the pavement in front of the main entrance. You feel your muscles begin to twitch. It’s one thing coming to Terminus when you have Aelin dragging you around, but it’s something else entirely when you know you’ll have to navigate the area all by yourself. 

Styrofoam squeaks as you grip the box in your hand and traverse down the frigid pavement. The air cuts right through your work clothes, and not even zipping your jumper offers any reprieve. You find comfort in knowing it’s a short walk—the bouncers hanging around the front entrance are already within sight. 

“Excuse me!” you call.

The duo of men crowded at the entrance seem to be in the middle of a smoke break when you interrupt them, and they look at you with narrowed, unentertained eyes. They stand at the top of the steps leading up to the entrance, making you feel impossibly small as they scrutinize you. You’re just some bug on the pavement. 

“I’m, uh, looking for the VIP entrance? I’m supposed to meet Simon?” you say. 

“You askin’ or tellin’ us?” one of the men barks over the cigarette stuck between his teeth. 

Every word you speak is so fragile you feel them shatter on the ground at your feet. You’re beginning to second guess asking for help. Twitchy fingers yearn to reach for your phone—calling him would have been easier. No, you just need to grit your teeth and bare it. Once this is done, you don’t owe him anymore, and you’ll never have to see him again. 

“Sorry,” you try again. “It’s just that, I’m supposed to bring Simon dinner tonight, I just need help finding the entrance.” 

“Sorry love, dunno a Simon.” 

You raise an eyebrow at the man as your confusion strangles out the anxiety gripping your chest. “Doesn’t he… like, work security with you?” 

The other man slaps the smoker on the arm—something playful and childish—before he rolls his eyes. “She’s talking about Riley you pillock.”

Terrible realization washes over the smoker’s face, and he quickly flicks his cigarette onto the ground. It sputters and dies in a little wisp underneath the sole of his boot. 

“Shit, of course,” he says, a silent apology soaking his words. He points a finger toward your right, guiding you along the darkness of the building. “VIP entrance, yeah? Just head that way and make a left before the alleyway.” 

It’s not the easiest set of instructions to follow, but you don’t dare ask for clarification. Instead, you mutter a quiet thanks and goodnight before trudging down the pavement. The only thing keeping you warm is the food in your hands, but the night air is sapping its heat faster than you had anticipated. You try not to think about it too heavily as the main lights of the building grow more faint with each step. 

Just as instructed, you make a left turn into the area you assume is the VIP entrance, yet you very quickly find yourself in the alley you were told to turn before. It’s a simple fix. Turn around, backtrack, and find the right turn—but it’s not. Acrid air begins to choke you with thin fingers that grip your throat without remorse. Your diaphragm tenses, solid as a rock; it refuses to loosen and allow you to draw breath. You’re frozen—stuck in time at the entrance of some grimy alley as two men converse with one another where they pass notes and cash between one another beneath the adust halogen lights. 

Dirty business. Something that stains your skin and festers until you’re just as sordid. Your tongue goes dry as if someone’s shoved your mouth full of cotton, and it only worsens when you realize that you recognize one of the men. It’s difficult not to with his brown undercut and stony eyes nestled beneath rigid brows. Trembling fingers dig into the takeout box in your hands as your mind is plagued with the fluttering idea to flee, but it’s too late. His blue eyes have already found you in the darkness with a fire that illuminates your body like a spotlight. 

He always looks angry—determined—with harsh features and tense lips. Yet, as he stares at you, he appears almost relieved. 

Like he had been looking for you. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as this man mutters something to his friend. The stranger looks back and forth between you and the man before quickly departing, shoulder brushing against yours as he passes by. Heavy feet stomp against the stone floor of the alleyway as you’re approached by this monster of a man. You tell yourself to look away, but you can’t. 

You know better than to look away from Andrei when his hands are in his pockets. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, stopping just close enough to crowd your space, but not so much that you step back. 

Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth as you attempt to choke out the words to respond to him. “I’m… delivering food.” 

Andrei looks over his shoulder. The tenebrous alleyway stares back at both of you with nothing to show but noisome garbage bins. “To who? The rats?” 

“I made a wrong turn,” you answer honestly. 

He chuckles, but it’s flat. There’s no amusement behind it, just macabre curiosity. You’re nothing but a creature—one he can’t wait to cut into. 

“You’re always getting lost, aren’t you?” he questions. It’s not something he expects an answer for, and you know it, so you stay silent as he leans closer as if ready to tell you a secret. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

You’re very aware of this fact. You knew as much the moment you laid eyes on him. 

“I’ll just… drop this off and go. I’ll go straight home, I swear,” you attempt to plead. 

“Dangerous men here. Lots of them,” Andrei continues as if you never said anything in the first place. “You’d do well to keep your distance. I know you like getting caught up in bad business, but this isn’t something you want to get stuck in. I can promise you that much. I mean it. Stay the fuck away from this place. I don’t want to catch you here again.” 

“Chip?” 

Simon’s voice bounces off the brick walls around you, rattling you to the point you swear your knees will give out. You’re unsure if you should feel relieved or terrified that he found you. A twitch in your neck urges you to look over your shoulder, but you stop when you see Andrei is already staring at him. The corners of his lips twist downward. 

“Need something?” Andrei asks, bored. 

“Yeah,” Simon responds. Gravel and sand crunches behind you, and you flinch as you feel a warm hand bleed through your jumper as he squeezes your shoulder. “I need you to fuck off.” 

Amused, Andrei tilts his head to one side. Simon is significantly taller than him, yet he doesn’t seem intimidated at all. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into here, friend,” he warns. 

“I said fuck off,” Simon deadpans. “I don’t need some mangy cunt sniffin’ around here. Creepy little shit, you are. What? Need me to repeat myself?”

There’s no time to warn Simon about the war he’s started with those words. Rage boils in Andrei’s eyes with a heat so violent you can feel it in his hands as he shoves you to the side. 

The takeout box slips out of your palms just in time for you to catch your fall. Soft flesh collides with jagged rocks and broken glass, but the adrenaline pumping through your system numbs the pain in your palms and knees. Angel hair pasta litters the ground around you, and the mouthwatering scent of Simon’s would-be meal becomes stomach churning. A strained sob escapes your mouth as you try and steady yourself to keep your body from toppling over onto the ground. 

All you wanted to do was drop off the meal and go home. 

It takes an eternity for you to push yourself to your feet, and even then you nearly fall back to the ground. Mind spinning, your weary eyes can hardly make sense of your shredded palms and the blood that trickles from small lacerations. Shock grips you like a vice, forcing your body to shiver as it pumps your muscles with enough adrenaline to stop your heart. 

When you turn around, the tinnitus in your ears suddenly roars louder than anything else around you as you witness the fight before you. Blood gushes from the side of Andrei’s head and his nose. It dribbles down his chin until it leaves dainty stains on the white cotton of his shirt. He leans against the wall for support while staring daggers at Simon, who stands between the two of you like a human meatshield. A physical barrier to keep Andrei from you. Still, it isn’t enough to hide the unmistakable glint of the knife in his hand. 

It hits you all at once. The blood. How it spills freely from a stomach, ruining fresh upholstery. You wonder how many other lives that knife has taken. That cruel, curved blade that taunts you as Andrei folds it up and shoves it back into his pocket. Pale eyes land on you in a warning as he wipes his face on the back of his hand, smearing blood across the flushed color of his cheeks. He doesn’t have to say his caveat out loud for you to know what he wishes to say. 

It’s only a matter of time before you’re next. 

You catch the tail end of Andrei’s retreat before your stomach begins to bubble. Turning around, you hardly have enough time to brace your sore hands against the wall before rancid bile stings the back of your throat. You puke. Vile liquid sloshes on the ground. There’s hardly anything inside of you to get rid of; just the consumed remnants of your brunch from hours ago. You try to keep it down, but you’re overwhelmed by the way your muscles contract, contorting your body uncomfortably as you expel the only bit of sustenance you were able to eat that day. 

Simon’s hand rests on your hunched back, but you can’t get yourself to face him as your stomach quivers and protests. He whispers something on your left—something too muffled for you to hear. It can’t reach you. Everything is disconnected. Nothing but frayed wires and nerves. Shuttering breaths. Cold blood. Trembling hands. Rocks sticking out of flesh. 

Then, there’s nicotine. It’s faint; something that haunts the fabric of Simon’s shirt as he pulls you close. You’re not sure if he holds you to offer you comfort, or to keep your shaking legs from collapsing. You decide that you don’t care why he does it—either way, you’re grateful for it. You focus on the smell of him—old smoke mixed with something clean, like cotton—as well as his warmth as he keeps you tucked close to his side. It does nothing to stave off the panic ravaging your chest, but it’s enough for now. 

“C’mon, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Simon urges. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

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[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 2

“For good services and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre militaryljk x fuckbuddy!oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, a bit of angst, flirting, TENSION. lowkey mean manager. kind of dramatic oc.

wc: 4k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

masterlist , <prev | next>

It’s 1am, and you and Nari have decided to have a girls night at her apartment. Nari’s apartment is cosy, you and her are sat in front of her TV on her comfy floor-sofa (Which you convinced her to buy rather than a traditional sofa.) She’s glad to have listened however, night’s like these sitting on her floor, blasting music and simply enjoying each other’s company with side of wine make you grateful for having this kind of friendship.

You’d both came straight after work. It’s been a couple of days, two exactly, since Jungkook and his friends had showed up to your work, and you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince when you tell yourself you don’t care and all the exchanges between you were simply out of respect and making small talk. But honestly, who cares? Jungkook is undeniably attractive, you’re probably just another waiter he’s hitting on for fun, you’ll likely never see him again and you don’t wan-

“Do you think we’ll see them again?” Nari’s voice cuts through your thoughts, realising you’ve not been paying attention to the TV playing in the background. “Who?”

She scoffs, tucking her feet under her knees, nudging yours. “Don’t play dumb,” She’s smirking at you, and you’re biting your lip before you answer.

“I doubt it, why? And does it even matter?” You’re taking a sip of your wine, playing it cool, but Nari’s already deadpanning you as you avoid eye contact with her.

“Y/n, you don’t have to lie to me!” Shes whining, giving you puppy dog eyes and you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“Okay- Fine, maybe i do want them to come back, but i honestly don’t care if they don’t, i mean they’re just normal people right? Also, I heard some of their fans are crazy and i seriously don’t want to get caught in the middle of- What the fuck!”

Your breath catches in your throat while you stare at your phone screen, wine glass frozen mid air. Nari, instantly alert, scoots closer, “What?! What happened?”

You don’t answer, too busy reading the words in front of you. It’s a Twitter post- in fact, multiple posts—flooding your screen mid-rant, you’d decided to search Jungkook’s name up and it turns out, he wasn’t the only talk of the town today.

“JEON JUNGKOOK SPOTTED TALKING TO A MYSTERY GIRL AT RESTAURANT IN SEOUL WHO IS SHE?”

Beneath it is a blurry photo of you standing beside their table- table 3. You can tell it was taken secretly—the angle is weird, the lighting is off, but it’s unmistakably you. And even more unmistakably him. In the picture, it’s only Jungkook talking to you, the others are engrossed into the food, and Jungkook’s smirking up at you. And the comments?

“Omg she’s so lucky wtf.”

“They look kinda cute together not gonna lie.”

“Who is she??? Someone find her @.”

“She better stay away.”

“She’s literally doing her job, y’all are so weird.”

“THIS BETTER BE FAKE.”

“Oh shit.” Nari’s snatching your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the posts with wide eyes, and your stomach is churning, the longer you sit there, the more you feel like vomit’s crawling up your throat.

“Theyre talking about me..” You whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it worser than it already is. Nari hums in agreement, still scrolling. “Yep. And they’re crazy. Look at this one—‘someone find her @’? What the fuck?”

Your heart pounds as you snatch the phone back, scrolling faster. The tweet has thousands of likes already, and it’s spreading. You can see people speculating in real-time, some trying to figure out your name, others joking about Jungkook flirting with every waitress he meets.

You try to ignore that. Seeing the far bigger issue at hand.

You hate the spotlight. And this was seriously your worst nightmare, and definitely not how you’d want to end up in it if you ever did.

“Fuck- what if Jungkook sees this? What if he thinks i’ve taken the picture- Oh my god what if he thinks im a creep! I can’t, Nari-“

“Okay, first of all, he probably will see it eventually-“ That somehow makes your stomach drop further, he’ll see it. What a stupid question, of course he will. He’ll see the picture, the comments and all the speculation. “And y/n, that doesn’t even make sense, why and how would you take a picture of yourself, from that angle too?”

“I don’t know!” you groan, throwing yourself back onto the floor sofa, staring up at the ceiling. This is too much. You were fine just a few minutes ago, sipping wine and enjoying your night. Now your face is floating around Twitter alongside his, and you don’t know what to do about it.

Nari nudges your leg, giving you a look of sympathy . “Look, it’s like 2am, let’s sleep it off for now, it’ll probably die down soon, forget about this.”

You wish you could believe that. But as your phone continues to buzz, you have a sinking feeling this is just the beginning.

——

You’re shuffling through the backdoor of the restaurant, head down low and mentally cursing yourself for actually coming to work today. First of all, you’re hungover and you’d tossed and turned next to Nari all night, trying to avoid your phone and updating yourself on the… scandal.

It took some convincing on Nari’s side for you to actually come to work today. After she’d woken you up at the crack of fucking dawn all you wanted to do was go home and rot in bed, and maybe shoot your phone too. Avoid the drama.

Eventually, you gave in. Realising that suddenly not showing up makes you look suspicious- guilty. And that’s why you’re walking in, the smell of grease filling your nose.

Nari’s already behind the bar, handling customers. She notices you, waving while the regulars also wave, you smile back, however it doesn’t really reach your eyes and you know she notices.

—

You’ve changed into your work slacks and shirt, walking up to Nari when the buzz of the early morning starts to die down a bit.

“You seriously look like you wanna die.” Nari snorts when you rub your eyes, sliding a bottle of water in front of you, and you grab it and chug it fast. “Damn, thirsty much?”

You groan, crossing your arms after putting the bottle into the trash, “That obvious?”

“Just a little.” She winks, leaning against the bar, propping her chin on her palm. “But, at least you showed up. I was worried you’d actually quit and run off to live in the mountains or something. And- leave me here, to serve overpriced coffee and processed food to rich people, alone!”

You’re grinning when you look back at her and retort, “Honestly tempting, thanks for the idea.”

“Mm, I don’t think you’d last. No phone, no music, nothing.”

“You’re right, who am i kidding? I’d die within a day.” You’re rubbing your eyes again, sighing. “I still don’t know why I even bothered coming here today, everything’s moving pretty slow,”

Nari’s deadpanning you, “Its 10am. And this restaurant is never quiet. And you’re also a responsible adult with bills to pay.”

“Or because someone called Nari guilt-tripped me into it.”

“That too,” she grins.

For a split second, things feel normal—just the usual banter between you and Nari. No online chaos, no invasive speculation. Just work. Just routine.

Then, of course, the moment doesn’t last.

Two customers approach the bar, and before you can ask what they’d like to order, one of them leans in a little too eagerly.

“Oh my god,” the girl whispers, eyes wide with excitement. “You’re that girl, aren’t you?”

You blink, already knowing where this is going. “…What?”

“You know,” she grins, as if she’s in on some big secret. “The one from Twitter! The one Jungkook was talking to! We came to the right place, Unni! Oh my god- you have to tell me where he sat, where did he sit?!”

They’re both squealing, looking around the restaurant. Your stomach sinks. And just like that, the peace is gone.

Nari’s rolling her eyes, and you simply reply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“She’s totally lying! You’re pretty- i guess, seems like the type of girl he’d go for surely, you can tell us, we wont say anything.” They’re winking, as if you’d tell a stranger that you’re dating a major celebrity. Crazy fans! You cant help but clench your jaw, you take a glance down and you notice they’re sporting Jung-kook’s merch, photo cards, keychains, you name it. You make a mental note to not slip anything about him at all, as if theres any thing to slip anyway… right?

“Im not lying, he only came here to eat, thats it, im just doing my job.” You clearly sound annoyed, and it’s getting worse when you see they clearly cant take a fucking hint.

The second girl gasps, grabbing her friend’s arm. “She’s totally lying!”

The first one giggles. “Come on! Tell us! You’re telling me you actually got to interact with the Jeon Jungkook and you arent telling anyone? Did he say anything? Does he flirt in real life the way he does on camera? Oh my god- are you.. secretly dating?!”

Your jaw tightens, irritation bubbling up. It’s always the same thing—his looks, his charm, the way he flirts on camera. No one ever seems to care about anything beyond that. It’s like he isn’t a real person to them, just some fantasy they like to add shit onto.

And now, because you happened to cross paths with him, they’re dragging you into it too. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask to be some character in the story of Jeon Jungkook’s life.

Your fingers tighten around the rag in your hand. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your patience, but the way they’re both gawking at you like you’re some kind of rare exhibit is making your skin crawl.

“I was just doing my job. That’s it.”

“But-“

Nari’s had enough. She’s barging beside you, slightly nudging you to the side. “Seriously?! She she’s already said nothing happened, do you not have anything better to do?” One of the girl’s flinch at her raised voice slightly, “So if you’re not here to actually buy food and just here to harrass my friend, i suggest you leave before i call security.”

The first girl’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, while her friend looks absolutely scandalized.

“Harassing?! We weren’t harassing her!”

“Yeah, you kind of were,” Nari deadpans.

“Now, what’s it gonna be? Drinks, or are you leaving?”

A pause. Then, with a few grumbles under their breaths, the girls exchange one last look before turning on their heels and storming off.

Nari watches them go, rolling her eyes. “Fucking weirdos.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, slumping against the counter. “I seriously hate this.”

She clicks her tongue, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, well. Better get used to it.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Tell that to Jungkook if he shows up again.”

Your heart stops, he wouldn’t… right? Not again. Unless he hasn’t seen the shambles on social media, which you highly doubt. Him coming here again is a recipe for destruction.

—

You spoke too soon once again.

You’re already having a bad day, but this? This honestly just makes everything worse.

Are you fucking serious?

You’re lowering your head slightly, glancing toward the entrance as Jungkook walks in—alone. Of course, he is. Because why wouldn’t he want make this even harder for you? It’s not enough that people have been whispering, not enough that eyes linger on you when they think you won’t notice. Now he’s here, and there’s nothing to remove the attention. No group of friends, no distraction, just him walking in alone so casually, like he owns the place, completely unaware of the storm you’re stuck in because of him.

You exhale sharply, gripping the menu a little too tight as he scans the restaurant. It’s almost a relief when he picks a booth in the back—almost. At least from there, you’ll have a good view of anyone sneaky enough to try taking pictures. But it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s here, and now you have to deal with it.

“Do you want me to go instead?” Nari asks under her breath, her voice low so only you can hear.

“No, I have to go talk to him.“ Shes giving you a smile and nod of encouragement, and you pick up a menu, smiling back and walking over to the booth.

By the time you reach him, your frustration is simmering just under your skin, and you don’t even bother hiding it. Instead of setting the menu down gently, you drop it onto the table with a sharp thwap. Jungkook flinches, looking up at you with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard. Your heart clenches at his big, huge doe eyes. Why does he have to be so… cute! Ugh!

You cross your arms, glaring at him.”Seriously?”

He blinks. “Uh… what?”

You scoff. “Why am I in the middle of this?” You gesture vaguely, but he knows exactly what you mean. The posts, the speculation, the hushed conversations happening the moment you turn your back. “I really don’t want to be a part of this.”

For a moment, Jungkook just watches you. Then he leans back slightly, draping an arm lazily over the back of the booth, like this is just another casual conversation. Like this is nothing to him. “It happens all the time,” he says, completely unfazed, and you couldn’t be more pissed off. “I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes. “Yeah, of course you’re just sorry, well guess what Jungkook, im not you, okay? I’m not used to this- I dont want to be in this”

You don’t mean to snap, but the words come out sharper than you intended. Something flickers in Jungkook’s expression. His confidence doesn’t disappear entirely, but he’s hesitating and biting his lip ring—just for a second. His gaze flickers across your face like he’s actually seeing you now, realizing this isn’t just some minor inconvenience for you. You don’t know what to make of that. It throws you off, just a little. But you hold your ground.

“Im sorry, I didn’t want this to happen- I know how it feels, and ill do what i can to get it under control.” He’s speaking softer, looking up at you before he gets distracted by something in the back.

Before either of you can say anything else, Nari arrives with utensils and plates , setting them down a little harder than necessary. You startle.

“Here you go.”

Jungkook barely acknowledges her, murmuring a quick, “Thank you,” before reaching for his utensils. The interaction is completely normal—just a regular customer getting his order—but you watch anyway, searching for something you can’t quite name.

You trail off after Nari, giving him a tight lipped smile, picking up the plates around the tables near him. Something distracts you- someone. He’s old, in a casual, but smart outfit. Walking up to Jungkook. The man himself seems quite annoyed, like he dosen’t want to be there. You figure he’s his manager.

You’re still watching when Jungkook’s manager walks in and slides into the seat across from him.

Immediately, the atmosphere changes.

“You seriously need to lay low,” his manager says in a hushed but firm voice.

Your grip tightens around the tray in your hands. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but you don’t have to. The tension is clear as day, thick enough to press against your chest. You don’t know why, but something about the conversation makes you uneasy.

Jungkook doesn’t say much—just nods along, eyes downcast as he eats. Whatever they’re talking about, it’s serious.

You decide it’s time for a toilet break.

—

As you step into the bathroom, the cool air and muffled hum of the restaurant give you a moment to breathe. Exhaling slowly, shaking your head to yourself. This entire night has been one giant headache, and you’re barely keeping up.

The door swings open behind you, and in the mirror’s reflection, you see Nari stepping in. Her eyes meet yours briefly before she heads to the sink, washing her hands with the same frustration you’re feeling.

“You okay?” she asks, glancing at you through the mirror.

You let out a dry laugh. “I was gonna ask you that first.”

Nari snorts, shaking her hands off before grabbing a tissue. “Yeah, well. I figured you might need to hear it first.” She tosses the towel in the bin and leans against the counter, taking out her lipgloss and applying some. “What the hell is going on out there?”

“Trust me, i wish i knew.” You groan, rubbing your temples.

Nari raises an eyebrow. “So, what? You two got some unfinished business or something? Cause it kinda looks like it.”

You shoot her a look. “No. Definitely not.”

She hums, unconvinced. “I dunno… that was a lot of tension back there. Thought you were about to start throwing hands or—”

“Nari.”

“Okay, okay.” Shes grinning, nudging your arm. “But really, are you okay? You looked ready to bite his head off.”

You sigh, leaning back against the counter next to her. “I just… I don’t like this attention. The stares. The way people assume things just because he walks in here.”

Nari nods, her expression softening. “Yeah. I feel you, especially those girls earlier, that already annoyed me, i couldn’t imagine being you right now.”

“Exactly.” You run a hand through your hair.

“And now, one of his managers is all over him about laying low, and I’m caught in the middle of it.”

Nari makes a disgusted noise. “Ugh. I hate that. Like, what are you supposed to do? Ban him from the restaurant?”

“Right?”

There’s a brief silence before Nari shifts, giving you a sly side-eye. “But… if we ignore the part where this is a disaster… he is kinda hot, right?”

You groan, shoving her shoulder. “Nari.”

She laughs, raising her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying! If this was some corny romance film, you guys would so be two scenes away from a heated argument turning into—”

“Nope. Not happening.” You shake your head firmly, pushing off the counter.

“Mm-hmm.” Nari sing songs, but doesn’t push further. “Well, whatever’s going on, you’ll figure it out.” She gives your arm a light squeeze before heading for the door. “I’ll cover if you need a few more minutes.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, Nari.”

She winks. “Anytime, Mrs Celebrity.”

You groan again as the door swings shut behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When that the calmness of the bathroom suddenly isnt so relaxing anymore, you make your way out, deciding that if you stay any longer, it may look like your actually hiding from him.

Stepping back out onto the floor, the buzz of the restaurant greets you again. You scan the room, gaze flickering toward Jungkook’s table. He’s still there, picking at his food and watching something on his phone but his manager is gone. For a second, you think he left completely—until you spot him at the bar, sitting stiffly, drumming his fingers against the counter like he’s waiting for something.

Or someone.

You sigh, steeling yourself, before walking over. “Can I get you anything?” you ask, keeping your tone neutral.

The manager barely glances at you before exhaling sharply through his nose, looking back to the side and it irks you. Pisses you off. “What you can do is tell me whats going on here. I’ve seen the posts, do you know who he is? Im sure you do, and you know the consequences of these things,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“Frankly, I dont care what you kids are doing, but you and him should not be doing this so confidently out in the open.” He scoffs under his breath, fixing his watch around on his wrist absentmindedly on the counter. “But whatever. You don’t seem like the type to listen.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

His gaze flicks to you properly now, sharp and assessing. “I’m saying,” he continues, lowering his voice, “I understand that you have your own life to live, but Jungkook isn’t just anyone. He’s got an entire career, a reputation, and people looking for any excuse to pick him apart. So, unless you want to become the next big scandal, I’d suggest you be a little more careful.”

You cross your arms. “First of all, I’m just doing my job and theres nothing going on between us,” Irritation is building up, you couldn’t be famous. If this is the tiny amount of control you’d have over yourself? You seriously wonder how celebrities can deal with it. “Secondly, Jungkook’s also a grown man, and you cant sit here and babysit him.”

He huffs a dry laugh. “Trust me, I know.” His fingers tap against the glass again, thoughtful. “That’s the problem.”

You narrow your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head, letting out another sigh before pushing back from the bar. “It means that he always gets what he wants,” he says, standing up. “That’s all.”

You stand there for a moment, still processing, before glancing over at Jungkook.

His manager is leaving when you turn back, why the fuck is everyone leaving you riddles to solve?!

—

Its a few minutes later when Jungkook’s at the bar, interrupting your zone out sesh, annoyingly enough, he has that same smirk on his face, and what looks to be the bill in his hand.

“Hey,” he interrupts smoothly, stepping between you and your thoughts, “I have to leave a little earlier tonight.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes and making sure what you next say comes off as a joke, “And why would I care?”

Jungkook hesitates just a little, then tilts his head slightly, flashing a quick, teasing smile. “Hm, not sure, you do seem kind of invested.”

You roll your eyes, biting down the urge to smile just to be difficult. “Yeah, in my paycheck. Which I better still have after all this.”

His lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh. “Good to know where we stand.”

“You’re a customer, and I work here. That’s where we stand.” You remind him. And you don’t know who you’re trying to convince when you tell him.

“Mm.” He hums, expression faltering the slightest, but you dont miss it. He’s resting his elbows on the bar. “But I don’t see you talking to your other customers like this.”

You scoff, reaching for a glass just to have something to do. “That’s because they’re not you.”

His grin deepens. “Exactly.”

His manager’s coming back through the door, looking out of breath, seemingly in a rush and exhales sharply, clearly fed up. “Jungkook, we need to go. Look’s like someones seen you,”

You look outside, its not a crowd yet, but theres the same two girls standing outside, you make sure to put your head down, not making it too suspicious that you’re hiding but you seem to cover your face successfully behind the bar glasses and you are praying to the Gods that your face isn’t going to be plastered all over your timeline tonight.

Jungkook doesn’t move. He just stays there, watching you, like he’s waiting for you to say something first.

You meet his gaze, feeling that tension again—annoying, frustrating, but undeniably there.

After a long beat, you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be laying low?”

Jungkook smirks. “I’m working on it.”

The manager mutters something under his breath and finally leaves the restaurant. Jungkook takes his time following, sliding a tip across the bar before turning toward the door.

And like last time, you wait until he’s gone before checking.

Scribbled next to his unnecessarily large tip, in his barely legible handwriting, is a number, and the same emoji he has tatted into his middle finger drawn terribly next to it.

You freeze.

Jungkook left you his number.

[mrkeatingsblazer]

The Prophecy [Oh, Was It Punishment] Part Three

Apollo x Child of Hermes! Reader

Part One Part two Part Three Part Four

The camp was still as they looked on in shock at the unconscious boy on the ground. The Asian girl plopped herself beside him, lifting his lip arm and dropping it with a sigh before looking towards them. 

“Are you guys going to help us or are you just gonna stand there looking stupid?”

Will pushed through you and Clarisse with a sudden sense of urgency, “Dad?!” he proclaimed, dropping to his knees. His hands instantly began to glow as he pressed them down on his fathers body while humming a hymn to activate his abilities. Chiron drew back the attention of the camp to himself, ordering the heads of cabins to direct their younger siblings away. When Austin and Kayla tried to join Will by their fathers side, the centaur blocked their passage and sent them back to cabin 7. With a nod both Travis and Connor took over your role as cabin head, guiding your siblings away while allowing you to linger at the scene.

“[reader]! Nico! Return to your cabins and ensure the younger children are safely put away.” Chiron pleaded with you, seeing as neither of you have left.

“Not a chance, big guy,” Nico snarked as he went to help Will lift up his father, leaving the centaur aghast. You went to the girls' side. Even with her confident introduction, you saw the creeping fear invading her eyes. She looked no older than 12. How did she even find him? You think, looking towards Apollo. If he even was Apollo. For all you know he could be making it up or just had brain damage and was imaging it all. Probably the latter with the way he collapsed. That worries you more. This little girl was traveling with either a powerless monster attracting god or a loony weirdo who is way too delusional. Seriously if you are gonna claim yourself as a God you might wanna have a look at yourself before picking the literal god of beauty.

“Hey kiddo,” you say crouching down in front of the girl. She looks up at you with tired eyes. “I’m [reader] and i’m the head of the Hermes cabin and as the God of travelers, Hermes takes in all unclaimed Demi-Gods, so until your Godly parent claims you, you’ll be staying with me and my siblings over there!” You smile while pointing towards your cabin before backtracking , “you do know what Demi-Gods are right?”

“I am one dummy,” she rolls her while pushing herself up, “and don’t call me kiddo.” she stomps in the direction of your cabin leaving you standing alone as the previous trio had already left towards the infirmary. Maybe you were looking too deeply into this kid. With a sigh you drag your hands over your face before following the child.

“This brat better not be one of yours,” you mutter to your father, “because I am not taking care of her.”

The next morning you found yourself heading towards the infirmary when you should have been leading canoeing. With a little bit of bribery and not so little  bit of lying, Travis accepted taking over. He was gonna be insanely pissed later when Katie Gardier isn’t co-leading but you’ll make up for it. Right now what was important was behind the door in front of you. Chiron and Mr. D were whispering to themselves in a corner. Chiron, as always, was taking the situation serious while Mr. D could hold back his shit eating grin as he looked to and from the centaur to his so called brother; you still hold on to your doubts on if this guy was Apollo. You’ve seen Apollo. The guy’s a Greek God literally and figuratively and the boy in front of you wasn’t even ugly but Lord Apollo made supermodels look average. 

The cabin 7 kids were sitting around him in the visitors chairs as he was still unconscious. You notice Kaylas hand on his leg, glowing ever so slightly. Austin drums his fingers on the bedside. He doesn’t allow his eyes to linger away from the sleeping figure for even a second. 

“Well?” you ask, walking up to the trio. 

“It’s my dad.” Will said as he stared past his father in the bed and out the window, circling bandages between his two hands.The kid looked totally defeated. You would feel the same too if Hermes came down to camp seemingly mortal, looking only a couple years older than you. The thought sends shivers down your spine.

“That's Apollo.”

“He is, “ Chiron says from behind, “and he has come to us broken.” the centaur looks saddened by the God. You suddenly remember that Apollo taught Chiron everything he knows, almost like his father. The orientation film was ever campers worst nightmares, the Apollo kids especially, but one scene always made you smile. It was Apollo [in that short tunic that accidentally mooned us during his orientation  poetry reciting] and Chiron outside the big house explaining why Camp Half Blood was built. Finding out Apollo founded the camp had you putting aside extra food for burning for months. The soft smile on Chirons face while he allowed the God beside him to explain was something you hadn’t seen since the film. 

“This is the funniest thing to happen since Athena blew that flute,” Dionysus grinned down at us. He raised his hands in surrender as both Chiron and Will sent him death glares.

“Mhm urgh…” We all snapped towards the sound. The kids stiffen as their father groggily sits up. He rubs his eyes before squinting around the room. Suddenly he yelps, flinging the blanket from his body. He flails about before falling off the hospital bed in a heap on the floor.

“Dad!” His kids yell as they scramble towards him but Apollo begins to crawl, his blanket covering his vision. You feel him grab your leg as he reaches out. Without thinking you kick him away.

“OW!,” he yells, ripping the sheet from his head to glare up at you. “Do you know who I am? I should smite you for your imprudence.” 

“Like you could right now Brother,” Dionysus laughs. You see the well of tears invade the Gods [former god? How can a god no longer be a god?] deep brown eyes. They looked so different to the power blue ones his former body had. The puppy-like look made something twist in your gut and feel bad for him, even though he did just threaten your life. Without thinking you bent down to help him stand up. He wobbled slightly, still fatigued from his rest. He leaned into you and looked into your eyes for a beat before pushing away.

“Where is Meg?” he asks the room.

“The little brat?” you question.

“Yes, that one.” he looked anxiously around. 

“Don’t tell me,” Mr. Ds eyes light up. Apollo glares at him as if knowing what he is thinking.

“Oh my gods,” he laughs.

“Shut your mouth brother!”

“The child is your master!” he bursts out laughing.

“I'll destroy you!” Apollo raged as he rushed towards Mr.D. Before anyone could blink, Apollo disappears and in his wake a cawing crow flaps its wings.

next part--

*hey guys! its been so long since I updated this fic but as a college student and working writer its hard to get inspiration when all my creativity goes into my own poetry and novel. I will try and update when i can! I also wanted to see if people would be okay if i opened this post to becoming an Apollo x Reader x Percy fic! I may add other perspectives in the future to show Apollo coming to Percys apartment and flashbacks with reader and Percy during the giants war. As its been a minute i would also like to remind people that this, while based off the concept of ToA, will only be following the plot loosely and will have its own end game for the characters. Thank you for all the kind messages and questions and for also enjoying this fic*