#kinda feel a little bad for wanting to ruin him in fic

[ex0rin]

Hello I just want to point out how much Jack's been pounding the pavement picketing for the strike- all he does rn is improv and march with a sign. The boy is union strawng woop.

YES! He's been out there like every day possible as far as I can tell from his Instagram - so that's pretty fucking rad of him too 🥰

Best boy:

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[skyrigel]

Baby, you're mine.

Ex bf! Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader

Hi, umm kinda wanted a jealous fic where Mattheo's a complete jerk ( fool ) for you. Basically that one time he ruined your date and also the time he made up. Draco being a little shit but we love him.

" Isn't he a dork ? " Mattheo smirked, his fingertips brushing against your back when you snapped back at him.

" You're such a jerk matty." You perched your lips, crossing your arms as his smirk only widened, his eyes softening at the sight of you.

" For you, always." He added with a wink, you wouldn't smile, no, you will not give him that.

" Why don't you leave me alone ? " You turned to walk ahead, you were aware of your charms class that was just about to start.

" How about you don't go on this date ? " He suggested instead, catching up with you, few third year Hufflepuffs parted away.

" Marcus is a very good guy." You mumbled, Matheo scoffed hard and his malice was very much visible in the way he scowled at his name.

" Didn't you like bad guys ? " Matheo tried his soft, sweet voice, the one that always melted you, but not this time, you wouldn't let him.

" Does it matter ? Weren't you fucking Susan or was it Komal, i remember." You narrowed your gaze at him, your mouth tightening as his soft facade crumbled, his jaw slackened but he was quick to recover.

" It was...it meant.. nothing to me." He nodded his head, eyes blazing with sincerity but if only, if only.

" Mattheo, I know you haven't got heart—"

" Babe—"

"—but these girls have got one, so don't break theirs." You glared at him once before marching towards your charms class, eyes brimming with tears.

_

You should've known as soon as you entered the great hall when the silence on Slytherin table was too much, Draco was practically buzzing, his mouth was perked up around the edges, being not so subtle with his glances on you.

Mattheo was just another case, he was staring at you, not minding the concernful eyes that gazed him down, clad with longing and desire, he didn't care about them.You dutifully paid him no attention.

The mist cleared when Marcus didn't come that evening and it wasn't a surprise when you found him in hospital wing later , poor boy even refusing to speak with you. Well done, mattheo.

_

" Hey Y/n, heard you got stood up—" you shot bat boggey hex at Draco, with mere mumbling under your breath as you swinged your rucksack on one shoulder, feeling very tired.

Draco scowled but said nothing, Mattheo only smiled smugly.

" I was thinking—" Matheo started, you stomped your books down.

" Don't talk to me." You said, feeling anger boil inside you.

" I didn't do it on purpose." Mattheo dropped his gaze to your lips, you looked away.

" Oh really ?! " You huffed a humour less laugh that oddly sounded a croak.

" He..He talked shit about you babe, what was i supposed to do ? "

" Listen." Draco said, ducking his head when both you and Riddle glared at him.

" Well anything but to beat the pulp out of him." You cocked your head, wincing to think about the damage Mattheo had done, it would be a hard for Marcus to ever date again.

" He said he just wanted to fuck you and be done." His eyes glistented and you didn't know if Riddle could cry, he did when you broke up with him but—

" Said that he wasn't being serious so I shouldn't worry, just a fuck." He swallowed hard, his adam rolling up and readjusting again, every ring of his cartilage pressing around his skin.

" Tell me baby, what I was supposed to do ? Shouldn't I kill him ? What if...what if he broke your heart ? " He pressed down his forehead against you, Draco looked away, swaggering towards the other end of the corridor, others following.

You closed your eyes at the feel of him, Mattheo could be cold but how could you let go of this warmness that tingled your way, how could you forget the sweet darling boy who sung lullabies and wrote poetries for you, how could you ?

" He can't..." You gulped, " he can't break my heart Matty, you already did it." You sniffed hard, would it be okay if you just...just hugged him and kiss him for one last time, just once, would it be okay ?

" I am sorry darling, I am so sorry." He nuzzled closer, his nose caressing your cheek as he inahled you in, your scent, the way you made him crazy and feral. All of you.

" I hate myself for not hating you." You admitted, feeling your heart shedding off some burden.

" And I love myself for loving you, I tried..tried so hard and no one, my beloved, i can love no one like i love you." His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, your whole body rippling in magnetic waves.

" You're a jerk." You told him, pulling him by his tie as a smile aroused him, soon it crashed against you, like lightening bolts set free as you tasted his sweetness, his tongue warm as you parted for him, let him take the lead.

A soft moan escaped and you shivered because you loved this boy, for so long you have, and only he could set you on fire and make you ablaze, only he could reduce you to ashes and breath you back in the air.

" Oh baby." He breathed against you, ever so handsy he grabbed for everything he could get, pulling you closer till there was nothing left you and him, his knees pressing between you legs as he relished in the sounds you could make, only for him.

" Matt..." Your voice was dazed with the pit in your stomach that lurched with the way he touched you, kissed you, had you.

" So long...so..my baby." He whispered against you lips, dipping to nib at your flushed swollen beaming lips.

" Oh my god." Your lids drooped back when his hands roughly slipped inside you shirt, kneading and squeezing your flesh, he was so needy and wild, like you always made him.

He downed your shirt, flushed as he pulled away when the bell rang and crowd started to emerge from classes.

"Go on a date with me." He pecked your cheeks, glancing to make sure your shirt wasn't riding up.

" Can't." You said, his nose scrunched up, " afraid my boyfriend might beat you up."

Mattheo's grin was splitting his whole face, his cheeks rushing with color and heat.

" Sounds like a jerk to me." He breathed, eyeing your lips and leaning in.

" Oh, he is." You winked, " always for me."

Don't blame me

[phyrestartr]

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

--

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 

–

Ding. 

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 

“Probably not.” 

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–” 

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 

“Don't blame this on me.” 

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.” 

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.” 

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack. 

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack. 

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his��� 

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 

“Yes.” 

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 

“Found it, huh?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 

“Where'd you find it?” 

“My pocket.” 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah. Weird.” 

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured. 

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 

“Raincheck,” you murmured. 

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.” 

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 

“Come sit.” 

Sukuna complied. 

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 

“Tch.” You've said that before. 

“I mean it.” 

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 

I do. 

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.” 

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue. 

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?” 

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 

“That's generous.” 

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 

[simpjaes]

SIMP

SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 

jake sim x afab reader 

MDNI!

WC: 5.6k

GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake

TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.

A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read

NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 

You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 

Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.

“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 

He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”

You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 

“So you’re not going to, then?” 

Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.

“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”

You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 

“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 

“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 

You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.

If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 

Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.

You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.

This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 

“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”

Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 

You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 

“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”

His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 

“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”

He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)

Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.

You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.

“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”

“Oh? Just me, or?”

Jake nods, then shakes his head. 

“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”

You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 

“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 

He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.

“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”

God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 

“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”

He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.

“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 

You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.

“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”

Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.

“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”

Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 

He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 

“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.

“Take them off.” You deadpan.

He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 

“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 

He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 

Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.

“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 

He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.

“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”

He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.

Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 

“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 

“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”

You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–

He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 

“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”

He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 

“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”

Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 

“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”

“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 

“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 

You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 

“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”

He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 

“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 

You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 

His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 

You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 

He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 

Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 

In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 

Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 

As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.

His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 

He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 

You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 

“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 

His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 

“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.

“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 

Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 

He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 

Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.

“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”

His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 

You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 

He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 

It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 

You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.

You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 

Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.

Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.

“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 

When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.

He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 

Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.

“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 

Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.

“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 

You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.

Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 

You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 

He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.

“Lay back.” 

That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.

Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.

He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.

That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.

He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.

You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 

“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 

“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 

His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 

“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 

He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.

You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.

He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 

He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 

You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.

By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”

And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 

He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 

You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 

[hoshifighting]

hii lyla!! how are you?? well, since we're the B in this lgbtqia+

how do u think svt members would react when you dom a woman during a threesome? like, they're surprised bc they never saw reader being the dominant one...

love you sm!!

svt reaction to; reader domming a girl during a threesome

a/n: i have a short fic about this in my drafts... should I post?

WARNINGS: smut, woman x reader, domination x submission, threesome, voyeurism?

seungcheol’s practically beaming with pride, cock hard and throbbing as he watches you dominate the other woman. he didn’t know you had this side, but seeing you take control like that? yeah, it’s driving him nuts. it’s doing things to him. he’s almost too turned on to function, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you in charge. he moans, stroking himself, “who taught you to be so fucking good?” “well... you, cheol.” he groans at your answer, throwing his head back.

jeonghan’s leaning back, and then... it all clicks. now he gets why you were so adamant about having your best friend join. “ohhh, i see what this is,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he watches you work her over. the way you’re handling her, the little sounds she’s making, it’s turning him on more than he expected. “didn’t know you had it in you, babe.”

joshua eyes r glued to your every move, joshua’s hyper-focused, like he’s studying you. the way you’re touching her, the way you’re whispering those filthy things in her ear—he’s taking mental notes, so he can do exactly that to you later. he’s already reaching for you, eager to give you that same kind of pleasure. his hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself because he’s so turned on.

junhui sits off to the side, his eyes hungry but not making a move to join. he’s content to just watch, soaking in the way you’re fingering her/eating her out. he’s got a hand wrapped loosely around his cock, lazily stroking as he takes in the sight, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “you look so fucking hot like that,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear. “keep going. don’t stop.”

hoshi’s losing it from the moment u kiss her, already groaning and shifting restlessly as he watches you completely ruin the girl in front of him. the second she’s gone, he’s on you, voice rough as he practically begs. “please, baby, do that to me next,” he says, eyes wide and desperate. he wants you to take charge of him like that, to give him the same treatmentt you just showed her. “fuck, i need you.”

wonwoo leans back, arms crossed, smirking as he watches. he recognizes some of your moves—stuff he’s done to you countless times—and it’s kinda hot seeing you flip the script. he’s not touching himself, but the look on his face says he’s enjoying this. “using my own tricks on her, huh?” he says quietly. “you’ve been paying attention.”

woozi’s got this focused look on his face, brows furrowed as he watches you go down on her. cunnilingus is kinda his thing, and now he’s seeing it from a whole different angle. the way you’re working her over—it’s sexy as hell. he’s not saying much, but his intense stare and the way he bites his lip are all you need to know he’s enjoying the show.

minghao’s being his usual calm self, while you’re wrecking her, he’s leaning in close, whispering soft, soothing things to her while keeping his eyes on you. “good girl, you’re taking it so well,” he coos, though it’s hard to tell if he’s talking to you or her. he’s fully encouraging you, though, urging you to keep going. “don’t stop. you’re doing amazing.”

mingyu’s got wide eyes, its like he almost feels bad for the other girl because you’re working her so good, but he’s also rock hard, thrusting in the air. he moan out loooud, biting his lip as he watches. he can’t look away, hand stroking his cock as he takes it all in.

seokmin oh, seokmin’s competitive side is kicking in, no doubt. he’s got this determined look on his face. “you think you’re better than me at this, huh?” he teases, but there’s a naughty bite to it. he’s almost itching to prove he can dom just as well—if not better. “wanna have a little round after this?”

seungkwan’s kinda stunned at first, eyes wide as fuck as he takes it all in. “how the hell are you this freaky?” he mutters, but there’s no denying how turned on he is. he’s about to suggest something for you to do when you snap at him, telling him you’re in charge. and damn, he listens. instantly. “yes, ma’am,” he says, all flustered but clearly into it.

vernon’s muted, eyes locked on you the entire time, hardly moving as he watches you dominate the other girl. he’s taking it all in, every little detail, because he’s definitely planning to try all of this on you later. his lips part slightly, and he’s not saying much, but you know precisely what he’s thinking. this is going down later. the fingers, the tongue. everything.

chan’s not even trying to hide how turned on he is—he was the one who suggested, already jerking off at the sight of you in command. but evenn while he’s watching you drive the other woman crazy, his hands eventually find their way to you, determined to make sure you’re feeling just as good. stroking you while you work her over. “let me take care of you too.”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; phone/video call sex, use of toys, male and female masturbation), sex work (obviously, look at the title), dieter being down astronomically bad with a burgeoning housewife kink, basically nothing to do with the movie he's from whatsoever it's just porn with almost no plot

(my challenge for @the-slumberparty this week was to write a fic that has a bouquet of flowers somewhere in it! leave it to me to find a way to include that in something so insanely smutty...)

He couldn’t stop watching you—both right now, in this moment, and just generally.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your cunt slid up and down on the glass dildo, your walls gripping every ridge and detail of the toy, your arousal coating it and running in droplets down to the base.

And for the past two weeks, your videos had been his obsession.  Maybe it technically qualified as a porn addiction—but it wasn’t just about that.  He didn’t watch anyone else, and he didn’t even jerk off every time he watched one of your videos; sometimes he just liked hearing your voice, feeling less alone in quarantine in his hotel room.

Most people just put on sitcom reruns or the local news to make a hotel room feel less empty, but that didn’t work for Dieter.  Maybe being an actor ruined the illusion of scripted TV for him—and as for the news, well, nobody would be comforted by the news these days.

So he turned to the only comfort he could rely on when all else failed: masturbation.  But he didn’t like to do it without something to watch, and normally he would just find a video he liked and work with that, but something tempted him to try a cam site… and now he was never turning back.

You weren’t the first girl he saw, it took a little scrolling, but something about your channel caught his eye.  It didn’t take even a full stream before he was addicted: you scratched every itch.

First of all, though he didn’t want to be too shallow, he couldn’t deny that your body was just his type.  It felt like he could stare at you naked for hours and never get bored—and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t turn you around and look at every inch of you.  Instead he just had to lay back and let you show what you wanted; in a way, it was like a dominance thing—he was a victim to your whims, he could only get what you offered and that was it. 

That said, you never left him wanting, that was the second thing he couldn’t resist about you.  Your videos were… indulgent, maybe that’s the word he was looking for: it was so much more than just a girl rubbing herself in front of the camera and calling it a night.  You spent a while talking with the viewers and reacting to comments, sometimes while undressing if you weren’t already naked; then, you upped the ante bit by bit, teasing yourself and him until it finally culminated in you bringing yourself to the peak over and over—until neither of you could take anymore.  He wasn’t just satisfied after watching you, he was exhausted, in the best way.

And lastly, this one was probably just him projecting, but you seemed… sweet?  Kinky, sure, but with something real about you—kinda that girl-next-door vibe.  Maybe it was because you started some of your videos in normal clothes—not lingerie, not a sexy nurse outfit or whatever people are into these days—just a baggy band t-shirt and shorts or an old hoodie and pajama pants.  It was hard not to imagine you as his girlfriend during those streams.  Actually, once he let himself do it, he couldn’t stop—and it got him harder than anything else.

Perhaps Dieter had a bit of a reputation, and most would say he wasn’t very… sentimental with women.  They wouldn’t be wrong, but they’d be misunderstanding him a bit.  Truth be told, he was a pretty sensitive guy, and he’d always wanted a real relationship, it was just difficult with his career.  Love is sort of like eating healthy: maybe you like to cook, maybe you like green beans and chicken breasts, but when a bag of potato chips is right there, you know what you’re probably gonna end up eating.

And Dieter really did go through ‘em like potato chips.  It was easier that way.  He got used to expressing his emotions through acting, and when emotions become your career, it’s a lot harder to be vulnerable for free.

Sometimes he wished he’d met you in person, somehow.  (Then again, right now he was wishing he could meet anyone in person.)  But if he’d met you in person, he would’ve probably just hit on you, convinced you to sleep with him, and then gone back to his same old habits—you would’ve just been another meaningless night.  Instead he was trapped in this hotel, using his laptop like a window to the outside world, and you had become his vice.  Even drugs couldn’t do for him what you could; the high you brought him was incomparable.

He told you just as much; sure, he felt like kind of a loser, but he started commenting on your streams hoping to get a reaction.  I think I’m addicted to your videos.  It was just one in a long string of adoring, horny comments that floated up alongside your video that day as you were casually touching yourself—one hand teasing your breast, pinching and circling the nipple, the other between your legs as you gently rubbed your clit.  You hadn’t noticed his comment that time—or if you had, you didn’t say anything—but the next time, you saw it.  You’d been using a vibe, taking it on and off your clit so you could edge yourself: that alone was a feat of self-discipline he couldn’t imagine.  Can’t wait to see you cum, he’d written, too worked up himself to really wonder if it was clever or interesting.

You smiled, a little breathless laugh coming out more through your nose than your mouth.  “Can’t wait to see you cum,” you repeated, “me either, buddy.  Shit.  Need to come so bad.”

Hearing you read his comment made him actually anxious—like an adrenaline rush, like when he was a kid and hadn’t gotten rid of his stage fright yet.  You had such an effect on him; his heart was still racing when he finally came—he managed to wait until you did, only because he didn’t start jerking off until the last minute.  Having to keep his throbbing dick out of his hand was an enormous task, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.  And it was worth it, to come with you; he loved hearing your moans as you came, imagining how you’d sound if he was fucking you—imagining all his come painting your stomach or ass or even going inside you…

And now, right now, he was imagining that last thing—imagining filling you with his come.  You rode that glass dildo beautifully, and when he moved his hand at just the right pace, he could watch and feel the way you would ride him.

“Mm, y’like that?” you moaned, looking back at the camera—damn, if you looked back at him like that while you were on his cock he’d be a fucking goner.

“Yeah,” he panted, in real life, because responding to you aloud was a bad habit when he was close to coming.

“Wanna come in me?” you encouraged, and he bit his lip as he nodded; he wanted to shut his eyes from the pleasure, but he couldn’t miss a second of you picking up the pace as you bounced on the toy.  “Wanna fucking come inside me?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he panted out, starting to fuck up into his hand when your pace felt teasingly slow (even though it was already getting so much faster).

“C’mon baby, I want it—come in me, nice and deep,” you begged, voice getting shakier as your own orgasm neared.  “Can you come with me?  Please?  Just fill me up right as you make me come—fuck, so good—”

“God, baby,” he whined, tightening up his stomach to try not to come instantly.  Thankfully, he only had to hold out a few more seconds before he heard you start to make those undeniable moans: when you came, you were loud.  He fucking loved that.

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, and he swore he could see the way your pussy squeezed that toy, he could see the shiver that ran up your spine—he’d give anything to feel that squeeze on his cock, to feel that shiver under his hands…

Come painted his hand, splattering onto his chest and thighs; if only he’d had the thought in advance to take his robe off entirely before he did this, now he was going to have to send some very shameful laundry to the front desk.

“Fuck, that was intense,” you laughed breathlessly as you started to recover.  He could tell you were still a bit shaky as you lifted yourself off the dildo— and he winced, the last drop of come squeezing out of his slit, when he saw the way your pussy was left gaping for juuust a moment by the toy.  Then one squeeze and it was like you were back to normal; she’s fucking incredible, he thought to himself, finally taking his hand off of his softening dick.

Panting, he felt the slightest tinge of shame in the back of his mind.  Not just shame, actually, but loneliness: he watched you smile and turn to face the camera again, reading the slew of filthy praises in your comments, and he just wished it was the two of you— in real life, alone, holding each other…

But this was easier, this was so much easier.  Being alone meant there was no one here to judge him, and that was worth having no one to wrap up in his arms in a time like this.

As he snagged a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off, he listened to you read and react to some comments.  “Thanks, guys,” you beamed as you were overwhelmed with so hot and I just came so hard and you’re perfect.  “You flatter me, stop it…”

He had to bite his lip when you started to play with your own tits, seemingly out of nowhere.

“They’re so sensitive after I come,” you explained with a giggle, then a moan as you pinched and teased the buds.  “Have any of you ever tried that?  Playing with your nipples?”

Dieter laughed as the comments poured in: what? that’s fucking gay all the way to I’m doing it right now for you my queen

“Oh god, has it been an hour already?  I think I need to hop off, guys,” you announced.

Instantly the chat was flooded with pleas of don’t go!! and ten more minutes and how much do we tip for more time?

“If anybody wants to keep the conversation going, private chats are on sale on my page right now,” you explained with a friendly smile.  “But if not I’ll see you tomorrow!  Or, you’ll see me.”

With a flirty wave to the camera, the image froze and blurred; STREAM ENDED popped up on the screen.  It was already trying to suggest other streamers live right now that he could watch, but Dieter only sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.

“Private chats…” he mumbled to himself remembering what you said.  He knew that you offered other services on your page, but something about you mentioning it this time got his attention.  As he considered for a second if he should’ve washed his hands before touching the trackpad, he navigated to your page and looked at the menu of additional services for purchase.  The list was long: private chats, as you’d mentioned; custom videos anywhere from 15 minutes to a concerningly-long two hours; a subscription to daily nude pictures, sent via Snapchat; even used panties available for shipping anywhere in the US and Canada.

He was originally just going to get a custom video, but as he scrolled through more options, he saw one-on-one video chat, and he got that feeling again—the adrenaline rush.  It took him a second to even compose himself enough to read the description.

Do you hate having to share me with all the other viewers during my streams?  I’d love to have some personal time to get to know you better, and do exactly what you’ve been dreaming of.  You can use voice if that’s easier for you than text—top fans can even turn their camera on if they so desire.

A half-hour video chat was only $75— that sounded like a steal to Dieter right now— and they were available to book as soon as tomorrow.  The idea made him feel all tingly and weird, but weird in a good way.

Top fans can even turn their camera on…

His constant engagement with your page for the last couple weeks had earned him the ‘top fan’ badge.  When he imagined showing you his face, his body, he got unexpectedly anxious, though; he wasn’t a particularly shy guy, but this was a delicate issue.  What if you recognized him?  What if you were a fan?  That would be weird— in a bad way.

Or what if you were a fan and you were overcome with the need to send him free videos, free pictures, even being willing to meet up with him sometime?  That would be… convenient, certainly, in some ways; but the thought overwhelmed him, and he decided that if he was going to buy one of these chats, his camera would have to stay off.  Just not worth the trouble.

He decided something else, too; a strange instinct, but one he was too deep in his post-orgasmic haze to resist.  He wanted to send you a gift.  Mostly, he hoped it would set him apart from other viewers— give you two something to talk about during that call.  If he bought you a toy from your wishlist, maybe you could use it for the first time for him… that would be incredibly hot.

Or maybe he’d buy you something more normal, like a nice throw pillow for the bed you laid on for some of your videos… the domesticity of that certainly attracted him.

But then, he had a simpler idea.  When in doubt while giving a gift to a woman, why not stick to the classics, right?

There was a P.O. Box for fanmail and gifts on your page, and he pulled up another tab to search: can you send flowers to a po box?

Just because he was a whore didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic.

~

“I have to say, I get a lot of gifts… never gotten flowers before.”

His heart warmed to hear you say that— but it didn’t stop racing.  This felt different: having you here, in only a t-shirt and panties as he’d seen you many times, but knowing it was just for him… he loved it, but it was a little scary.  In a good way.  “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah!” you smiled, fiddling with the stems as the vase sat beside you.  “Pink roses, lilies, orchids… you’re gonna spoil me, Hector.”

(Yes, he gave you his real name.  Ironically, he used it to hide who he actually was— but he liked hearing you say it.)

“Not that I mind,” you added with a wink.  “Do you mind if I have these in the background of my next stream?  They'll match the toy I'm gonna use."

"O-oh, yeah, sure,” he choked.  “What toy are you gonna use?”

You smirked a little, to the point that he almost felt stupid for asking that— but you didn’t mind showing him, in fact you had it ready and showed the baby-pink toy off for him.  His throat got a little tighter when he saw the U-shape of the toy; didn’t take a genius to imagine where that would go… and already his mind was jumping ahead to how you’d look with those silicone ends penetrating both your holes—

“Looks like fun,” he managed to get out, and you looked pretty proud of yourself for making him a bit flustered.

“Do you wanna turn your camera on?” you offered suddenly after you’d set the toy aside.  “No pressure, of course.”

He went through a whole rollercoaster when you asked that.  Because yes, he did—sort of.  But would it just make things more complicated?  What if you were uncomfortable with him being famous, thought he might expose you or something—or, more concerningly, what if you exposed him?  Or what if you just berated him with dumb fan questions when he was trying to forget about his life right now?  “Uh,” he stalled, “is it okay if I don’t, this time?”

“Of course, it’s all up to you,” you replied.  “I’m just a little curious… you have a sexy voice.  Gotta wonder if it matches.”

He didn’t even know if you would think he was sexy—he certainly hoped so, but maybe you had a type of your own.  Maybe you were a lesbian, how should he know?  “Thanks,” he hummed, “you too—but, you know, all of you is sexy.”

“Aw shucks,” you said as you struck a pose, putting your hands under your chin and batting your eyes to complete the sarcastic impression of innocence.  He laughed, and it reminded him why your videos were so special— ‘cause you made him laugh like that.  “You know, a lot of people book these chats because they have a specific kink they want me to try for them,” you explained.  “What about you?  Why’d you book this?”

“Is it weird if I just… kinda wanted to talk to you?”

His heart skipped when he saw your reaction—the shy, tender smile that appeared on your face.  “No, that’s not weird,” you replied, and for some reason it was how incredibly sweet you looked right then that made his cock jump in his boxers.  “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Can we talk about you?”

“Not much to talk about,” you shrugged, smirking a bit; of course you were teasing him, he didn’t even mind.

“I really doubt that,” he chuckled.  “Is this your only job?  Do you do anything else?”

“I, uh, used to do something else,” you answered, “but then they found out about this.”

“Oh, that sucks…”

“Nah, worked out for the best.  Started making way more when I had more time to put into it,” you nodded.  “I like this a lot better, actually.  No sick leave, but no dress code, either.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“What about you?  What do you do?”

“Um… I’m an actor,” he replied.  He considered lying, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” you smiled.  “Wouldn’t have seen you in anything, would I?”

“Probably not,” he laughed off your question.  “Do you, um, have any hobbies?  You must not have a lot of spare time, with people paying for chats and custom videos and all…”

“I take a few days off, here and there,” you nodded, “mostly I just like movies and stuff.”

That made him even more anxious that you would know who he was.  He still hadn’t decided if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, though.

“I like to cook,” you added. 

It was starting to feel like you were intentionally targeting his newly developed girlfriend fetish.  Instantly his mind was flooded with all this domestic bullshit: shopping with you for ingredients, coming home to a fresh dinner, waking up to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and flipping pancakes.  “I like to eat,” Dieter replied, “we’re so compatible.”

You laughed, and if this was all just some act where you pretended to think he was funny and interesting, it was the best acting he’d seen in a while.  “Are you flirting?” you noticed, raising an eyebrow as if to point out how fitting-yet-bizarre it was for him to be hitting on you—because he didn’t need to, you were his for the half-hour regardless.  But he liked this better, and he loved making you laugh.

“Maybe,” he offered cryptically in return.

“Is that what the flowers were for?  Are you trying to seduce me?” you accused with a grin.

“Those were just to get your attention,” he admitted.

“Hector, honey,” you cooed, making his heart skip.  “You already have my attention.”

That excited him and his dick, which was now making a tent in his boxers as it waited for some of your promised attention; somehow, just casually-flirtatious conversation with you was almost hotter to him than the usual stuff.  Maybe he was just a little burnt out on all that by now— because talking to you had become much more valuable than seeing you naked.

“Just tell me one thing about you,” you bargained.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“Are you hard?”

He swallowed.  “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he meant it to.  You smirked a little.

“We don’t have to,” you assured him, “but if you’re interested, why don’t we get off together, hm?  Does that sound okay?”

Was it a good sign that you were initiating this, or did it just mean you were getting impatient with him?  God, it didn’t matter—he was gonna do whatever you wanted.  “Okay,” he answered.  “Yeah—that sounds… more than okay.”

Biting your lip slightly, the way you looked at the camera almost made him feel like you were sizing him up—even though all you could see was a black screen.  “Are you touching your cock already?”

“N-no, I… I still have boxers on,” he replied.  “Should I?”

“No, you should rub it a little through the boxers,” you instructed.  “That’s what I’m gonna do—touch my clit through these panties.  It’s even more sensitive when I do that, don’t ask me how.”

“R-right, okay,” he nodded.  He already liked taking instructions from you more than he thought he would.  His hand spread out over the bulge in the cotton, a sigh slipping from his lips as he started to find the right amount of pressure so he wouldn’t get too into it too fast.

His eyes were transfixed on the way you spread your legs, and he swore your panties already looked a little damp…

Your finger traced delicately over the seam of your pussy, and his balls tightened up at the way you sighed as you teased yourself.  “You should play with your tits, too,” he informed you, his own voice sounding shaky as he tried to hold back from just getting his cock out and jerking off as fervently as he wanted to.

“You’re just full of good ideas, huh?” you joked, taking your free hand and pinching yourself through your shirt.

“Then here’s another one for you,” he offered, “take something off.”

“Shirt or panties?” you asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You smiled and surprised him by lifting your hips, pulling your underwear down your thighs before kicking them off to the side.  For some reason, even though he gave you the choice, he expected you to take the shirt off first; and there was something surprisingly sexy about you still having that casual t-shirt on and nothing else.  (Likely, it was because it made it easier to imagine you just wearing one of his shirts…)

It added a new thrill to the now-familiar sight of your pussy— not that he ever got bored of that view.  “Can you— can you spread it for me?” he panted, nearly whimpering when you took two fingers and scissored apart your lips.  “Fuck, got such a pretty hole, baby…”

He saw it flex as you heard the compliment, and he couldn’t help but moan quietly.  “Yeah?  Have you thought about how good it would feel?” you encouraged with a sigh.  “How good this hole would feel on your cock?”

“Every fucking day,” he promised.  

“Then take it out,” you instructed breathily.  “Start touching your cock, and think about what it would be like if I was there touching you instead.”

Though he was glad to do as you’d said, pulling his throbbing erection from his boxers with a sigh, he had to disobey one of your commands.  “No, m’thinking about a lot more than that,” he replied, and you cracked a smile as you rubbed your clit faster.  “Thinking about being— fuck— inside you…”

You hummed happily; after all that teasing, he was so sensitive and worked up that it felt like he was already fighting to hold himself back.  He certainly couldn’t keep his pace down— right away he was stroking himself quickly, struggling to keep it together.

“Thinking about how fucking tight you are,” he added with a groan, loving the little whimper you let out in return.

“Hector, baby,” you moaned, and he hadn’t heard that name said that way in a very long time.  “This might be over sooner than I thought if you talk like that…”

“Good,” he decided, “it’s not gonna take me very long, either— you always make me like that.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked, panting, rocking your hips against your hand.  “Tell me how you’d fuck me, baby.”

“Fuck, I—hard,” he choked out.  “So fucking hard—”

“Mm,” you moaned encouragingly.

“And I’d eat you out,” he decided, “before and after.  I’ve been dying to know how your pussy tastes.”

“After, huh?  Is that with your come inside?” you wondered.  “Or did you wanna come on my tits?”

“Inside,” he groaned.  “I’d eat my—fuck—eat my come out of you, I don’t care.”

“That’s dirty,” you purred, “I like it.  I like a man who can clean up his mess.”

“Never liked coming inside that much until I started watching your streams,” he admitted.  “Now it’s all I can think about—coming inside you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, “want you to think about that when you come for me now, okay?  Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he promised, moving his hand faster and feeling that tension in his gut that told him the breaking point was approaching.

“Think about filling me up,” you continued, “giving me all that come, so deep inside—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “are you close too?”

“Baby, I’ve been trying not to come since we fucking started,” you admitted— and maybe it was a lie, but he bought it joyously.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come so hard— fuck yes— gonna come for you…”

“Do it,” you begged, “I want you to, I want you to come, Hector.”

“You— you should come, too,” he countered with a shaking gasp, his cock already starting to flex as he knew he was seconds away from losing it.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, your voice itself turning every word into a moan, “I’m gonna come with you, baby, fuck— lemme hear it, wanna hear you come—”

He came with a grunt, squeezing down on his cock with his fist as come launched out in long pulses; “F-fuck, I’m coming, ahhh fuck,” he narrated— normally he wouldn’t say something like that, but you had asked to hear it, so…

“Me too, I— oh!” you shouted, and he watched with heavy eyes as you tossed your head back, hips rocking up into nothing— your hand was a blur over your pussy but he swore he could see it pulsing and clenching, creamy slick leaking slowly from your hole.

The last of his come came out as a fat droplet running down his shaft, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky as the ringing in his ears subsided and he began to slowly come back to reality.  You were panting, pushing yourself just a bit further until your whole body jolted and you quickly pulled your hand away.

“God,” you groaned, “that was… draining.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing a little at how wrecked his own voice sounded.  

“I wish I could just, like, take a nap right now,” you admitted with a tired grin.

“I mean, you could— we’re almost out of time…” he noticed.

“No, I— yeah, I could, but I have something after this,” you replied, and he felt a little twist in his chest.  He didn’t blame you at all for it, but it made him jealous to think of you hopping right on to your next call— it made him feel like he was just one of your thousands of fans, which is not how he wanted you to think of him at all.

“Another call?” he assumed.

“No, just private chats,” you corrected, which somehow made him feel a little bit better, “and I should probably post a few things for my Snapchat— we’ll see.  I will definitely need a break before my stream tonight, though… will I see you there?  Proverbially?”

He smiled a little.  “Yeah, definitely.”

“Drink plenty of fluids before then,” you winked.  “Thanks for calling, Hector… I hope we can do this again sometime.”

It’s an upsell, she’s not actually into you, she’s not actually into you, he tried to force himself to believe.  But it was so much easier, so much more fun, to imagine that you really liked him— that those flowers stood out enough for you to realize that he’s different.

You both said your polite goodbyes and the call ended.  He was definitely sleepier than he anticipated after all that— you said you were, too, which made him just want to have you here even more so you could fall asleep on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have to be alone in this bed for the seemingly-thousandth time in a row.

Exhausted to the bone, some impossible mix of satisfied and starving for more of you, Dieter sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.  He wanted to book his next video call before he passed out.

~

thank you so much for reading! if you're interested in a second part to this, please let me know by reblogging or maybe even leaving a comment! you can read my other works for pedro pascal characters here or check out my full masterlist here

[ilwonuu]

sweet thing. bangchans part | here.

*°:⋆ₓₒ han jisung

🀥 request- Han is the horniest man alive istg. He'd also be a major munch and a ton of people see him as submissive but no no no. He'd be all cute and sweet but it's an illusion bc he'd be so aggressive as he ruined you, bred you, etc. His stamina is in another league bc he'd have you crying after cumming on his face multiple times and his dick. Overstimulation to the max and he'd tease you sweetly, bully you in the sweetest voice. Choking kink for sure, his hands are so pretty and decorated with rings as he chokes you. he's messy and he loves sex to be as messy as possible. Spit, tears, make you squirt, etc.

🀥 paring- meandom!han x subfem!reader

🀥 warnings-smut with no plot.., meanishdom!han, breeding kink, choking kink, unprotected sex(of course), creampie, lots of dirty talk, messy sex, teasing, degrading? (kinda not really), choking kink, lmk what else

🀥 a/n- thank u for your request!!! thank u guys so much for 400 followers!! more fics soon!! happy hoeing i love u all<3 hope u enjoyed!!!

mdni 18+ smut under the cut

your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to ruin you. have you so gone on the feeling of his tongue. your sweet boyfriend changing mood rather quickly.

you couldn’t complain tho. making you cum on his tongue until you are shaking for him. he loves when you fall apart like this. “taste so good baby. you ready for my cock?” you nod whining for him pathetically.

he just laughs a little pulling his shorts down to let his cock out. you quickly tug on his shirt wanting that to come off of him aswell. he just smirks pulling it over his head.

tossing it somewhere in the room. you moan in response to see his toned chest. “you’re so wet baby but doesn’t hurt to get you wetter don’t you think sweet thing?”

his teasing tone making you more needy by the second. you feel him rub his dick up and down your folds a bit before spitting directly on your pussy. rubbing it in with his dick. “yea look at that baby? so wet for me. want me to fuck your pretty pussy now?”

he teases you some more. you nod at him. tears falling slowly down ur eyes. “can’t fucking wait anymore.” you cry for him. “okay sweet girl. ill give you what you want.” you sigh in relief feeling him run his dick up your slit again. slowly pushing into you entrance suddenly.

he catches you off guard as he starts to fuck you hard and deep against the mattress. pulling moans out of your mouth. “fuck. you like when i fuck you like my slut huh?” you shamelessly nodding at his words.

“gonna fuck my cum so deep into you. that’s what you want huh? for me to breed you like my slut huh?” his smirk only getting bigger as he feels you clench around him. “can’t answer me baby?” he questions grabbing your face to look at him.

“y-yes hannie l-love it please don’t s-stop.” he just gives you another innocent smile. like his dick isn’t fucking you so beyond good. his hand snaking your body to wrap around your neck. he applies a little bit of pressure. your body responds quickly. “you like this huh? so close sweet girl. gonna fill your pussy so fucking good.”

your whines are beyond desperate for you boyfriend. “h-hannie im cumming oh-“ his grip against your neck tightening causing you to cum hard on his dick. “such a sweet sight baby. you wanted this all day huh? dirty girl. love it when i fuck you like this huh?”

his hips still drilling into you as he is close to cumming. “gonna- fuck gonna fuck my cum deep into you. i want you to feel me. my sweet girl wants it so bad huh? you’re fucking soaking my dick baby.” a deep chuckle coming from your boyfriend.

“you like that baby? you fucking clenching on dick so tight.” his words too embarrassing to listen to. but it made you wetter than before.

“dirty girl. you hear yourself? so fucking wet- ah shit just- i’m cumming baby.” he cuts himself off. his thick cum coating your walls. “fuuck- don’t let a single drop fall out of you. so messy all for me. love fucking you full of my cum.” his hips slowing down as he still fucks into you. “you want another load huh dirty girl?”

you nod convincing him ever so quickly. fucking you dumb all night until all you can remember is han, han, han, he is all you can think of.

[itsbeeble]

Enchanted

Summary: You lost each other once, holding out in hopes of crossing paths again. It's almost fate that you do, and Wonwoo doesn't want to let you leave him again

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, exes to lovers

Pairing: Idol!jeon Wonwoo x afab!reader

WC: 4.5k (i got REALLY carried away yall im so sorry)

Series Masterlist

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: hurt comfort, ex high school sweethearts to lovers, mentions of someone trying to get a little too touchy feely with reader so if you aren't comfortable, don't read it (nothing bad happens AT ALL, the guy is just a dumbass, but i figured i would put a warning for all of you), unprotected sex, making out, fingering, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, kinda dom/sub themes again, mentions of drinking, swearing, marking, spanking, Wonwoo likes boobs, sexual tension, mentions of chemistry, idk there's a lot so let me know if i missed something important

Listen to Enchanted by Taylor Swift <3

A/N: Guys i wrote this all today/last night and i'm really proud of it. It's also the first smut fic that's like...i wouldn't call it intense but it's more than what I'm used to ig. I hope yall like it though <3. Also thank you to Fawn for beta reading again. teehee

You had always hated gatherings: holidays, work events, family reunions, weddings, you name it. You always hated being the only person there without a partner. Not that you felt the need to have one, but it got annoying when you got the same questions over and over and over again.

When are you going to settle down and marry a nice boy?

Your parents aren’t getting any younger, don’t you want them to have some grandkids?

What are you waiting for?

The truth is, you had the answer to only one of those questions. What were you waiting for?

It has to be some stroke of luck when the answer walks right through the door to your high school reunion decked in an all-black suit and the same nerdy glasses he’d had his whole life. 

Jeon Wonwoo. Your high school sweetheart turned drunk sob story to your best friends after a few too many cocktails. 

It’s ironic how the root of all of your relationship problems just so happens to hate your guts. Not that you blamed him for it. Everything that happened between the two of you, everything that went wrong in your relationship was because of you and your insecurities. Because you didn’t trust that the idol life wouldn’t ruin the two of you. If you were him, you’d cut contact and disappear as well.

Eunchae, your best friend from high school, nudges your arm, her eyes flicking between you and the man who hasn’t spotted your wide-eyed stare. 

“Did you know he was coming today?” She whispers harshly, jerking you out of your dumbstruck trance. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, awfully reminiscent of a goldfish.

“I— no, no I didn’t.” You feel out of breath, your heart beginning to pound against your ribs so hard that you fear the bones might snap. “Hana said that— that he didn’t RSVP.” 

You look up again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s looking at you, through the crowd of people around him. Wonwoo had his eyes locked on you, his gaze unreadable from where you stood. It feels like he’s cast an enchantment on you, freezing you under the weight of his gaze. 

Your hands are shaking, and the drink in your hand almost spills before Eunchae grabs you. Someone steps in front of Wonwoo— a man, from here you can’t tell who— and your view of him is cut off.

You don’t see him try to gently nudge the man to the side while talking to him, trying to get a better look at you. You don’t see the disappointment when he finally gets him to move and you’re gone, out of his view. 

~

“Wonwoo,” one of his old friends, whose name has slipped his mind (Seonkyung maybe?), claps him on the shoulder. “You really have grown up, huh?” Wonwoo smiles politely, adjusting the expensive watch on his wrist. 

“I mean seriously,” another man comes forward, someone Wonwoo knows very well and for all the wrong reasons. Lee Jongdae, the man who planted seeds of doubt in your ear. The man who ruined something good, something that would have lasted. “You used to be like,” Jongdae raises his hand, waving it flat in the air next to his shoulder, “this tall? And now you’re a giant!”

“You must be getting all the girls, eh?” Seonkyung teases. Wonwoo wants to scream, wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “The idol life must make things easy, right?” 

“I don’t really go out much,” he shrugs, still holding that polite smile on his face. “The idol life is busier than you think.” Seonkyung scoffs at this. Jongdae narrows his eyes, but the near-mocking smile returns to his face.

“Come on~” Jongdae presses, “there’s gotta be some idol woman that you’ve snatched up. Someone has to have grabbed the attention of the great Jeon Wonwoo.” 

He hesitates. Yes, someone has grabbed his attention but it isn’t another idol in the industry. 

“Or, wait,” Jongdae’s hand collides with Wonwoo’s chest, something similar to malice appearing in his eyes. “Are you still hung up on that Y/N girl?”

Wonwoo goes rigid, and beside him Seonkyung gets quiet. Jongdae bursts into laughter, the sound ringing around the room and gathering the attention of a lot of people. Wonwoo feels his jaw tick in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or knock the man to the ground. 

“No way are you still hung up on her!” Jongdae huffs out between laughs, seemingly uncaring that he’s the only one laughing. “Ten years, and you’re still going after someone who couldn’t care less about you anymore?”

Someone inside of Wonwoo breaks a little bit. Something inside him cracks, and his resolve crumbles slightly. He hadn’t expected the jab to hurt as much as it did, but god did it sting. 

“I never said I was hung up on her.” Wonwoo folds his arms over his chest. “Like you said, it’s been ten years. If she’s moved on then that’s her business.” 

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I got with her?” Jongdae takes a step forward, an eyebrow arching in challenge. “Because I won’t lie to you, she’s looking good.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks again, but he keeps a pleasant smile on his lips. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. “Like I said, not my business.” 

That clearly isn’t the answer Jongdae is looking for, and a puff of pride fills Wonwoo. 

And then dread. He just gave the one man he would hate to see you with permission to do whatever he wanted. “Permission”, as if he has any control or say in the things, or people, that you do. 

~

When Jongdae approaches you, there’s an immediate pit of despair in your stomach, like some princess waiting to be saved from the tower she’d been locked in. There’s a menacing look in his eyes, and he walks with a swagger telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants out of a situation. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” You almost cringe at the first words out of his mouth, your lips twisting into an awkward, tense smile. 

“Hi…?” 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jongdae continues, not waiting for you to say or do anything. He’s only focused on getting what he wants, that much is obvious from the way he smirks and glances around to find…someone. Who, you aren’t sure. “You sure have…grown up a bit, haven’t you?” 

“I mean…yeah I’m 27. I would hope I’ve grown up a bit.” He laughs a bit too hard for something you hadn’t intended to be funny. 

“Say,” he leans closer to you, and you press yourself back against the wall. His hand comes to rest on the side of your thigh, right near the slit in your dress. “Why don’t we get out of here? You know, go somewhere a little bit more…quiet? Maybe Mrs. Ji’s old chemistry lab?” 

Your body is tense, and you try to pull away from him. 

“No, thank you.” Your hand tightens around the small plastic cup of cheap wine in your hand. “I think I’m fine where I am.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna loosen up a bit?” He coos, and his grip tightens on part of your dress. Your body tenses.

Then his grip was gone, and his body is hitting the floor, and people were beginning to surround you and Jongdae and…Wonwoo? 

Wonwoo is standing next to you, his black jacket seemingly gone, and the sleeves of his black button-up are rolled up to his elbows. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a thin line. 

“What the hell was that for, Jeon?” Jongdae pulls himself to his feet, trying to approach him, but another man steps forward. “Thought you said it wasn’t your business?”

“It wasn’t,” Wonwoo agrees, “but that was only until you tried to do that.” 

Something about Wonwoo being this protective over you, even after what you did, makes your stomach twist into knots. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing this because he had to. Because this is what anyone would do, and your heart sinks into your stomach. 

“We were just trying to have some fun,” Jongdae snaps, “right Y/N?”

Wonwoo looks at you, and when you return his gaze it’s like you’re back in high school again. 

Do you want to leave? His head tilts ever so slightly toward the door. 

Get me out of here. You hope your eyes are portraying that thought perfectly, but the tight smile on your ex’s lips tells you all you need to know. 

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Lee Jongdae.” Wonwoo’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and you find yourself tucking your body into his side just like you used to. 

Only this time, it’s like you fit perfectly under his arm. His very…very…very muscular arm and slim waist and when your arm wraps into the back of his shirt, you can just barely feel the tight muscles and—

Oh god, you’re gonna do something you shouldn’t if the two of you don’t leave right now. 

You’re lucky that Wonwoo is able to guide you away, and that Jongdae doesn’t try to come after the two of you. You figured that, while the man was stupid, he wasn’t going to try and harm someone making more than triple his annual income and with enough power to ruin his life with just one click of a button. Probably literally. 

~

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo has his hands wrapped around the headrest of the driver’s seat in his car, watching you as you pick at the skin around your manicured nails. You turn your head to look at him, pursing your lips. 

“I mean…I guess? He didn’t really do anything, thank god.” You let your hands drop to your lap and a heavy sigh escapes you when you let your head fall against your headrest. 

“I’m sorry that he did that.” Wonwoo’s voice is gravelly, and you have to take a moment to calm yourself before speaking.

“It isn’t like it’s your fault. You do know that, right?” Wonwoo shrugs.

“It kind of is, though. The only reason he went up to you is because of me. Because he wanted to get under my skin.” Oh? You arch an eyebrow, turning your body to face him. The slit in your dress shifts ever so slightly, exposing your bare thigh. Wonwoo turns his head away from you, his cheeks heating. 

“Why would he want to do that?” In your heart, you already know. The way the two of you easily slipped back into your old habits, the way he didn’t even hesitate to help you despite protesting that anyone would have done it. You knew, now, that he didn’t hate you. You just wanted him to admit it. 

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his head to look at you. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” You nod, leaning your body across the center console to get close to him. You can tell he’s nervous, maybe embarrassed. 

“You know me, Wonwoo. I always get what I want.” You grin and Wonwoo turns to look at you again and suddenly you’re aware that you aren’t dating him anymore. That it’s weird for you to be that close to him. 

Your smile drops and you sink back into your seat. Wonwoo watches you, a frown replacing his previous smile. 

“I’m— I’m so sorry.” You press yourself as close to your door as possible. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo fights the itch in his brain that tells him to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t realized just how enchanted with you he was until he saw you across the room for the first time in ten years. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having you pulled against his side, although you fit much better now that he’d filled out and grown into his body. Wonwoo hadn’t missed the way your breathing hitched when he pulled you against him, hadn’t missed the dazed look in your eye when he looked down to ensure that you weren’t hurt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— I shouldn’t have touched you like that—” 

“Y/N,” Wonwoo cuts you off. “You did nothing that I didn’t want you to do.” Your mouth snaps shut, and you look at him with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I…I still— fuck this is harder than I thought it would be. For a songwriter, you would think I’d know how to confess that I’m still enchanted by you.” He laughs nervously, and when he turns to look at you, you’re smiling gently. You understand.

You stay quiet and then turn to him again. He’s facing you too, and your faces are inches apart. 

“I was enchanted by you too, Jeon Wonwoo.” 

And then your lips are on his, and it’s a searing kiss that leaves him breathless from the moment it starts. His hand rises to your cheek, gently pulling you even closer to him. Your hands wrap around the fabric of his shirt, and you whine when his tongue hesitantly prods at the seam of your lips. 

You open your mouth for him, and his hand slides to tangle in your hair and pull you impossibly closer, nearly across the center console. He roams your mouth, his tongue licking at every inch, sliding against your own as if this was the last time he’d ever be able to kiss you. Your hand slides down, tracing down to his tie, then to his abdomen and you can feel the muscles tightening wherever your nails trace. 

Your hand trails even lower, and you feel him freeze against you when you place your hand over his crotch. He forces himself to pull his lips from yours, a string of spit connecting your tongues, and his eyes flutter shut again when your hand squeezes lightly around his hard-on. 

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.” You smirk, raising your lips to his ear. 

“What if I don’t want you to be?” A gentle kiss was placed to the corner of his jaw, and his grip on your hair tightened to the point of near painful. This draws a whimper out of you, right in his ear. He pulls you back, not harshly but enough for your jaw to drop. 

“Tell me you’re sure,” he practically begs. “Tell me that this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you aren’t in love with someone else, that there’s no one waiting for you at home.” 

Tell me you love me.

Your hand slips to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye. 

“You know that you’ve always been it for me, Jeon Wonwoo.” You promise, and your lips are against his again. It’s sweeter than the first but still filled with ten years of words left unsaid. “Take me home.”

~

The moment Wonwoo locks the door to his apartment, you’re pressed against the wall with so much force you’re surprised there isn’t a hole in the shape of your body. His hands are on your hips, your thighs, your shoulders, and your chest. Every time he pulls away from your lips, he catches one between his teeth, nipping at the soft flesh before shifting his focus to your neck.

“Wonwoo,” your voice is shaking, your hand tangled in the dark strands of his once neatly styled hair. “Wonwoo, please?” Another hickey blooms across your neck, another on your shoulder, then your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He rasps, tugging the strap of your dress to the side until it slips down your shoulder and exposes more of your breast. “What do you need from me?” He slides the other strap down, and you gasp when his cold hands reach up and grab at the soft mounds on your chest. 

“Wonwoo— Wonwoo, I—” Your brain has gone to mush the moment his mouth lands on your nipple, sucking at it and nipping at the bud. You breathe out soft moans, your hands struggling to move to the back of your dress to reach for the zipper. 

It’s impossible to function with Wonwoo flicking his tongue against one nipple, his fingers kneading and twisting and pinching at the other. Your hands shake as you finally catch the zipper, yanking it down as quickly, yet gently, as possible. 

Wonwoo pulls away from your chest, breathing heavily, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He examines your body, entirely nude from your choice to go braless and pantiless tonight, and his cock twitches in his slacks. 

“God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He hisses. You peer up at him with eyes so innocent, but you both know that isn’t the case. “Did you know I was gonna be there? Hm?” He grabs your chin in one of his large hands, yanking you toward his face until you’re struggling to even stand on your tip toes. “Did you know that I was gonna give in to you?”

“No— Wonwoo, I didn’t know—” His free hand collides with your ass and you cry out, stumbling toward him. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” His hand strikes your skin again, and a gush of arousal practically drips down your legs. 

“I think you’re lying to me,” he hums thoughtfully. “Lying isn’t nice, you know.”

“I’m not lying— Oh, Wonwoo please—” His free hand has slipped down to your core, delicate fingers brushing against your sopping wet cunt. “Please touch me, please, I need it.” 

“Yeah, baby?” One finger pushes between your folds, and your knees almost buckle. Your nails dig into his biceps, squeezing the taut muscle as he sinks two long, slender fingers into you. “Need it so bad, don’t you? Had you waiting for so long. Did you miss me, baby? Miss this?”

“Missed you so bad, Wonwoo,” you arch your back into him, your hips jerking against his fingers. He slips a third inside of you. “Miss— Missed the way you t-touched me.” He hums, curling his fingers up into you and you emit a desperate cry of his name. “Right there, Wonwoo! Fu—fuck, right there!” 

“Tell me how much you missed me, pretty girl.” He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, watching you and enamored by the way your eyes roll back, the way your jaw is dropped, and the way your chest heaves. “Tell me how much you need me.” 

“N-Need you so–o bad. No o-one makes me fe-feel this good— oh god,” you clench around his fingers, pulsing and dripping down his wrist. “No one el-se made me c-cum like you d-do.” A swell of pride in his chest, and his thumb presses hard against your clit. You spasm around him, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. “So close, Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay baby,” he purrs, “you can let go. I’m here now, gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you so good, never gonna have to turn to anyone else again. Just let go.” 

You spasm again, and your body sags as your orgasm rocks through you. Wonwoo has an arm around his waist, his other hand still working his fingers into you and easing you through your high. 

It takes you a few minutes to come down, and by the time you do, Wonwoo has removed his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He’s watching you as you try to step forward, catching you when you stumble. You reach for the button of his slacks and he stops you, smiling when you pout. 

“I’m not fucking you here, baby. You deserve to be fucked in an actual bed.” You let him guide you to his bedroom— correction try to guide you. It’s like you’re addicted to the taste of him, your lips practically gluing themselves to his biceps, licking and biting at the salty skin. You can feel every one of his breaths as he walks, and his pace picks up until he’s flinging open his bedroom door and shoving you in front of him. You stumble a bit, and he pushes you again so you fall face down onto his bed. Wonwoo isn’t far behind you, his body leaning over yours and his hand on the back of your neck and preventing you from pushing yourself up. 

“Do you know how much I missed this? Being able to fuck you wherever, whenever, and however I wanted?” He hisses into your ear, and you feel his free hand slip down your back as he reaches for the button on his pants. His hips keep rolling into yours, and the little grunts and moans that he releases are almost enough to get you to cum again. “Do you know how hard it was to not imagine that I was fucking your sweet little cunt every time I found someone to spend the night with? No one matched up to you, sweet girl. No one got me to cum like you do, got me as hard as you do.” You whine when he kicks your ankles apart, your nails gripping the duvet for dear life. 

When you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, it takes everything in you to not grind into him. He’s breathing heavily into your neck, slowly slipping in. Your body twitches and you fling your hand back, frantically searching for his own to squeeze and distract yourself from the pain of him stretching you out. 

“So tight,” he presses his forehead against the back of your neck, his body shuddering. “Fuck, it’s like nobody has fucked since me.”

“N-nobody else felt as good as you,” you gasp out. “No one could stretch me out like you do. Just fuck me, please.” 

“Gotta let you adjust, baby,” he argues. “Still got about half left.”

You whine again, jerking his arm in front of you and letting your face fall into it. He groans when your teeth sink into his skin, biting and sucking and gasping against him until you feel his hips connect with yours. 

“You ready?” He rubs your back gently, and you frantically nod your head.

“Please, please, please, please—” His hips pull back and you release a guttural moan as he slams his hips into yours. Again and again and again and again. Every thrust sends the tip of cock full force into that soft, pleasurable spot inside of you and it feels so good, and he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, and you don’t ask him to. Your mouth has fallen open, a neverending stream of cries and moans and begging leaving your lips.

His hands reach forward, and you feel a finger hook into your mouth on either side. It stings, the stretch of him holding your mouth open, and you feel your back arch, his cock somehow hitting even deeper inside of you. Drool slips down your chin and it’s so nasty but you can’t form the words to stop him. The only things that leave your mouth are nonsensical babbling and you feel Wonwoo begin to rise, taking you with him. One of his hands leaves your mouth and slips down to the base of your throat, and the other’s thumb hooks into your jaw and holds your mouth open. His hand squeezes around your throat, and you squeeze around his cock

“You close, baby?” Wonwoo coos into your ear but you don’t have the brains to form words. Your hips press back into his, one of your hands slipping down to frantically rub at your clit. You’re clenching rapidly around him now, almost in time with when he pulls out of you and you can feel him twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum again?” 

You try to tell him that, yes you’re so close and it feels so good and oh god Wonwoo please—

Your body shudders and a sound similar to a scream escapes you, your free hand gripping his forearm tightly and you can feel the skin tearing beneath your nails but neither of you cares as he pumps white-hot cum deep inside of you. His hips are still rolling, adding to the sensation of his cum inside of you. Your core begins to sting with overstimulation, and you try to pull away from Wonwoo with a whine. He just laughs, his hands settling on your waist and lowering you down onto the bed once his cock has softened. 

~

Your back is against his in the tub and he’s running a soft cloth along your body, along the marks on your body and the bruises on your hips. 

“You doing okay?” His voice is tender. “I know I was a little bit harsh on you.”

You chuckle. “Not like you haven’t done that before.” 

You play with the suds that float in the water, humming quietly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back a bit. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” You lean your head back on his chest, and he frowns at the question.

“Why would I hate you?” 

A shrug and you drop your arms into the water. 

“I threw away a nearly perfect relationship just because someone said you’d drop me the moment you found someone better in the idol industry.”

“So?” Wonwoo traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. “That’s not your fault. I get that it was scary. Neither of us knew what was gonna happen, you were already stressed about how things were gonna work with you being in college. I’m not gonna blame you or hate you for that choice. What matters is that we found each other again.”

Your cheeks heat up and you turn your body around in the tub to sit on his lap. He looks up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow. “In the hallway. That I’d never have to turn to anyone else. Are we gonna…” Your voice trails off and Wonwoo raises his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I meant every single word I said tonight. I’m here to stay, Y/N.” His nose nudges against yours. “I was enchanted from the moment I met you, and I want to be yours again if you’ll let me.” 

You play with the strands of his hair, smiling like a madman. 

“And I meant everything I said as well,” You let your forehead rest against his, your eyes falling shut. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Wonwoo exhales softly. 

“Always. I will always stay.”

~

Taglist: @juyeonszn @leejihoonownsmyheart @nobraincellmode

[slutfactory]

‘MILKING’ COW. ★ w. ushijima x m!reader. [requested!]

request by anon. “Ayo, idk if ur reqs are open, but can i request a cow Ushijima fic? Kinda down bad for him. Nothing specific so do whatever! Ty!

warnings. cow!ushi + m!farmer!reader, animal features (cow ears n horns), light overstimulation. nothin much tbh, just soft(?) sex w ushi. <3

author's note. same, anon. same. we love ushi gushi on this blog. also, soft boi hours + horny hours actually go pretty well together?? who would've thunk it?

<500 words yeh kinda short

you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something about this felt oddly.. backwards..??

ushijima, as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, whorishly bounced up and down on your cock. even after both of you having orgasmed not too long ago, he didn't stop—

—oh. right. he was milking you. that's what it was.

wet plap noises, along with wakatoshi's mewls of pleasure filled the room, echoing against the walls. feeling a bit too sensitive, you stopped him, holding his hips in place when he lowered himself. the sight of your beloved, prized cow breeding himself on your cock and moaning like a slut was almost enough to make you cum again. right then and there.

the olive haired man looked at you, eyes filled with pure lust and desire. “i wan’ more.. please-.. ” he whined, squirming on your lap—you stifled a groan at this. “milking master feels so good.. ”

your dick twitched, hearing ushijima's pleas. he was so cute, and that made you want to ruin him. but, he wanted to be the one to do the milking this time—and after hearing him beg, you just couldn't say no. honestly, how could you? why would you?

releasing ushi's hips, you gave him an approving nod. he let out a few whines, quiet at first, but slowly increasing in volume, as he began to move again; at the same speed he did before you stopped him. you in turn, let out your own share of grunts and moans, much to his pleasure.

apparently, ushijima was also sensitive after orgasming earlier– or at least you assumed that from how his inner walls twitched and tightened around your shaft much more than before. adorable. “gonna cum already, baby?” he nodded, holding onto your shoulders a little tighter. “me too. let's cum together, 'kay?” you purred.

about thirty seconds of sloppy riding passed before ushijima came, spilling his load on his and your stomachs. this did not stop him, though—he was overstimulating himself now, but he wanted you to cum inside of him.

you of course granted his wish, as his cunt tightened around you as he continued riding you; which almost immediately brought you to orgasm. a strained groan left your lips as you did so. wakatoshi let out a broken whine as he felt your hot seed filling him up inside. “'s so hot.. ngh.. ” he muttered while trying to catch his breath. “master felt good too, right?”

also breathless, you chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “of course, honey.” again, you chuckled, seeing his ears twitch slightly as his face lit up—seemingly with happiness and a bit of embarrassment. ushi buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you tried to ignore one of his horns lightly stabbing at your skin.

“c'mon. we have to clean up. i'll make your favorite food for dinner, alright?” you pat him on the head. a content 'mm.' was all you got in response.

[softestqueeen]

ugh, i just love you

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: When you accidently let the a love confession towards your best friend, Spencer Reid, tumble out of your mouth, you think you’ve ruined the friendship between you completely.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, self destructive thoughts, spiralling SPOILER: happy end, cuz I’m a sap

wordcount: 1333 words

a/n: i had a sudden burst of motivation, after reading way too much angsty fics. i wrote this in like 35 min while rubbing my hands together like a villain at all of the pain that is happening here. muahahaha. anyways, i hope you enjoy this! <3

You ruined it. It finally happened. You knew that it would, sooner or later. Your love for your good colleague and best friend Spencer Reid were just too strong.

Sitting at your tables at the BAU, you and Spencer were the last two remaining. While trying to find anything that got the team closer to a profile, the two of you had ordered Chinese takeout. Taking a break you found yourselves in the break room, enjoying your food. Your conversation, the random facts Spencer told you and the meaningless stories you told him in return, made you forget about the gruesome murderer that was currently preying on their next victim.

Talking with Spencer always made you feel most at home. No matter how bad you felt or how low you were, Spencer could always bring you up again, no matter if it is on purpose or not.

And now, in a moment of vulnerability it had slipped out. “Ugh, I just love you Spence.”

“W- What- What did you say? You- You love me?” you could hear the pure disbelief in his voice, and you were sure he could see that same exact feeling on your face, even without you saying a word. You knew it was too late to take it back now, but you had to save yourself from this mishap, because he just couldn’t love you back.

“Uhm- well, uh, you know I love you as a friend, Spence. Of course, only as a friend,” the last sentence was a mere whisper spilling from your lips. You had to get out of here.

“Well, I think we won’t get to any reports anymore anyway. I’ll see you Spencer, bye!” you were already out of the breakroom, collecting your stuff to leave, when you heard him calling after you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Spencer!” were the last words he heard before you practically ran out of the building.

So, now you were in Penelope’s little “office” recounting everything that happened. You could feel tears well in your eyes as you told her exactly what happened.

It was too much, the thought of facing Spencer after this. It has gone so far, that you’ve taken a few days off work to collect yourself again. But now that you’re back, you timed it perfectly that you’d arrive before Spencer but after Penny so you could slip into her office and give her a rundown. Which you were currently doing.

“I see, that’s why you stayed home so suddenly. You know, you can always come and talk to me,” she told you. It felt comforting to know that she was on your side.

“Thank you so much Penny, that means a lot to me. But you know, I was happy with the fact we were friends, even if he didn’t love me that way. It was enough for me to be just with him as friends and now I’ve ruined it,” you didn’t now what to do with yourself. Of course, your other best friend doesn’t understand the situation like you did, which kinda frustrated you.

“But you don’t understand! I- I can’t- can’t do this anymore. I loved- I love him. I love him so much it hurts. Every time I looked at him it was harder to keep these words from slipping out. It is all I could- all I can think about. And now I’ve ruined it. I lost my best friend; I lost the chance for a future with him. I don’t want to live like that. Knowing he hates me when he is everything I ever wanted. The ray of sunshine on my rainy days. He always lit up the whole room when he came in, he always made everything better. Every time I see him it’s like that one thing you thought you lost long ago but now have found again. It’s exactly the same feeling.

“I just can’t- I just don’t want to live without him. What do I do know, huh? Leave and never see him again? Stay, but live with the pain, the agony to see him everyday without speaking to him? Without being his friend?

“I feel so intensely that I often wish I could just stop. Stop worrying, stop thinking, stop feeling. But in the end, it’s always the same. I just want it to end, don’t you understand?” you have now started sobbing, letting yourself fall into Pennys arms and she rubs her hand up and down you arm in a comforting manner.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t get yourself too worked up about this. You don’t know yet what Spencer is going to say about this. Maybe he feels the same,” in fact, everybody but the two of you at BAU knew that you were in love and for Penelope it was kinda funny that two profilers and also two of the most intelligent people she knew failed to realise that.

“I don’t know,” you mumble into her chest, “I don’t want to get my hopes up. What if he hates me now? What if he’s mad?

“Well, we’ll only find out if you talk to him,” Penny reminded you. You were sitting up normally again, slipping out of her embrace as she was talking to you.

A sigh leaves your lips. “You’re right Pen. What would I do without you? Thanks for listening.”

“No problem. You always know where to find me if you need to talk. But now get up and talk to Mr Boy Genius. I’m sure he’s in just as much agony as you are.”

You let out another sigh before getting up and waving Pen goodbye. Wiping your tears you brace yourself for what’s to come. Taking a seat at your desk, you wait for Spencer to take his seat opposite yours.

Once he does, a few minutes after you, he seems surprised to see you.

“Hey Spencer, can we talk? In private?” you ask him before getting up.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers before getting up too and following you.

Closing the door behind him, you found yourselves in the break room, the first available room.

After a beat of silence, you start talking “Spencer, I owe you an apology.”

For a second Spencer fears that you are going to apologise for telling him that you love him, but you surprise him.

“I’m sorry for just storming off and then practically disappearing. I was a coward and too afraid of your reaction,” you take a deep breath before admitting “I didn’t lie, Spence. I love you. I did however lie about only liking you as a friend. I like you so much more than that, but as you could tell I thought you don’t feel the same. Which- Which would be totally fine, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything when-“

Your rambling is cut off by Spencer’s lips on yours. For a second both of you freeze, before you further lean into him, kissing him back. That seems to snap him out of his trace, because he carefully raises his hands, to cup your face.

After pulling away he tells you “I- I love you too. When you told me that a few nights ago my heart stopped, because I thought you felt the same. But when you told me that’s not how you meant it, my heart shattered. I don’t like it when you lie to me, but I know where it came from, so I guess I accept your apology,” he smiles before adding “Only if you let me take you out. I- I’ve never done any of this before, but I’m willing to give it a try for you.”

“Of course you can take me out, Spence. Don’t worry,” you connect your lips to his again, both of you smiling now that you know everything’s well.

And if you weren’t so engrossed in each other, you’d see Derek giving 20 bucks to Penny.

“I told you they’d eventually tell each other.”

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with spencer reid and aaron hotchner, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

requests open!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Lucien Flores x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | this is for @iamasaddie's kinky may writing challenge, a mix of a kink i haven't tried writing before and character i adore dearly but know next to nothing about. this was really fun to try out and my first fic back in almost four months, cheers to finally being back ig? may we christen it with smut.

content warning | heavy smut, literally pwp (there's some backstory if you squint), sensory deprivation, safe words, some food consumption as foreplay, some bodily fluid exchange/consumption, gags/restraints/ect and all that good stuff, oral (m/f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, established relationship, lucien is still a relatively blank character so none of this is canon (just how my silly little brain likes to imagine him rn)

word count — 4.7k

The rain is quiet against the apartment window, a soft and slow pattering that matches the slow beat of your heart. You can’t see it, not in your current position as Lucien leans his knee into the mattress behind you and the bed dips, warm fingertips brushing over your cheeks and the shell of your ear as he carefully and methodically secures the blindfold in place with a knot that feels secure. He brushes his fingertip over your nose as he nitpicks and mumbles something under his breath, fixing the black material until your vision is completely hindered.

“Princesa,” His voice is a soft caress, “everything alright?”

Constant check-ins, reassurances, comfortability and security—it was all you felt with Lucien. Things had clicked with him so easily. It made your heart drop into your stomach with the first realization, unlucky with love to a fault that never let up. He had eyes on you from the moment you first met and they never drifted.

A mid-life crisis. You were younger, a subordinate under his wife, and unattainable by most standards and rules. Fetching coffees, keeping Rose on schedule and reminding her of all the never-ending events she kept yes-ing—Lucien and her had long been divorced but a chance encounter at an industry mixer had landed you here. A routine you’ve both upheld for the last six months and it felt real. You had solid ground to stand on with Lucien and he never diminished how you were feeling, even if you felt so embarrassingly naive about things.

And the sex had never steadily climbed and crescendoed—Lucien liked to ravish and devour in a way that had you holding your breath and helped him realize very quickly how overwhelmed you could get. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but there was too much outside distraction—him, the droning buzz of traffic outside of his apartment, the distant muffled television a room away that Lucien always forgot to turn off before settling down for the evening with you. 

You needed focus, grounding—given Lucien’s illustrious history and Hollywood rumors and all the things you’ve heard from around town and within the social networks you shared, he seemed like the furthest thing from a good choice.

But, the care and attention he showed you drowned it out entirely. 

Hell, he gave you a key to his apartment within a month and you’ve never seen anyone else visit him—he doesn’t host parties here, he doesn’t even let his ex-wife set foot past the threshold. It was your own little sanctuary.

You lift the blindfold slightly and ruin the work he’d done to get it just how he wanted, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Hmm?” He’s got an eyebrow half-raise, features relaxed but masking an obvious worry that he didn’t want to harp about. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Lucien tilts his head, “How good?”

Just good. Kinda good. I’m only telling you I’m good so you don’t worry about me.

His thumb rubs at your chin and the thoughts float away and you allow yourself to live in the moment, reaping in the undivided attention this man showed you.

“Really good.” You reply salaciously, using the angle to your advantage as he towered over you on the bed, foot dragging along the inside of his thigh and pressing into the back of it until he lost his footing and slipped further into the deep pockets of the comforter. “Better if you start touching me like you kept promising over dinner.”

“Eager today?” Lucien teases as he crawls until he’s found his way between your legs, resting on his outstretched palm as he fixes your blindfold and darkness floods your senses again.

“Game recognizes game.” You retort, allow Lucien to use a guiding hand to settle you against the plush headboard, buttons pulling in on the fanned, velvet material. “I really need this today.”

There’s a soft shuffling and the familiar clink of expensive jewelry scattering against the bedside table—it was the forewarning that Lucien was prepared to make a mess of you, hammering that final nail in the coffin as he drags three fingers in a harmonious unison over your clothed pussy, the thin shirt you were wearing rubbing against the inside of his forearm as he applies just enough pressure to have you chasing after it when it fades away.

“I know, baby.” His voice drips like a warm honey, sticking to your skin and making you sweat. “Say your word.”

“Luce, we do this every time. I know it, we’re good.”

Silence lingered and you cleared your throat, the dip of pressure in the mattress between your legs from his hand, not allowing himself to touch you until you repeated it back to him.

You nod, “Peach.”

The small tick of a fond memory shows on his face, lips curling up at one side. It happens every time and Lucien knows it was meant as a playful jab in the beginning, but it quickly became something so sacred. 

You've only used it once and never out of fear or miscommunication—Lucien understood your limits and liked to push when you agreed, but one too many orgasms by his tongue as he buried his head between your thighs had eventually became too much and it was said through a shaky laugh, yanking at his curls until he surfaced.

Lucien, almost instantly, is there—mouth pressed against the barrier of your underwear, fingers curling around your thighs and spreading you apart with ample pressure, exploring your skin like uncharted territory, a new exploration. Like he hadn’t been going down on you for the last several months and already mapped out every inch of your body, knew all the shortcuts and quick routes.

The wetness soaked your underwear, the fleshy fat of his tongue rubbing hot and lapping at the heady taste of your arousal with a sigh before his fingers curl around the edges of your underwear where they cling to your hips, moving them down your legs and suddenly, despite being surrounded by darkness, the feeling of exposure is still daunting. Every time. 

“Tell me about your day.”

Then he’s licking a slow stripe down your center and you’re curling at the sudden touch, but quickly relaxing as he settles in, letting your fingers rest back in his soft curls, using your other senses while they are still available. Your mind wanders and wonders, thinking about the expertise and dexterity of his tongue. How if he really wanted you to come, he would have you there in less than a minute, but he was going easy.

“Boring,” Is all you have, “Most of the same.”

He’s just trying to fill the air, giving you a solid distraction outside of his filthy mouth. It’s not exactly his aim to bring up work during sex, especially when it’s in relation to his ex-wife.

“And dinner? How was it?”

Lucien purposefully flicks his tongue over your clit and you gasp softly, tugging at the strands of hair under your fingertips and you feel a hand rub at your lower back as it arches, a tender touch that you give into.

“Perfect,” It’s the truth, eternally grateful for his choice of personal chefs, because as much as you adored Lucien, he was not to be let into a kitchen, “delicious, as always.”

Lucien groans, deep and low against your pussy as his mouth sucks greedily at you, feeling his fingers inching closer and closer to your core, like he’s trying to take things slow for now, but the impatience is winning out. They’re tight at the apex of your thighs currently and just bordering on discomfort when he squeezes every time you moan or sigh or make even the smallest reaction to his mouth.

“R-right there,” You direct, canting your hips up despite his strong grip, “fuck, just—yeah, right there.” Lucien has always responded well, course-correction and sensing the way your body pulls him in, thighs squeezing around him as he dips a finger inside of you in time with his tongue, working you over mercilessly.

The lack of sight is making everything that more intense, searching for something to ground you, using your grip in Lucien’s hair, your other hand placed over his where it’s curled around your thigh as an anchor, feeling him speak against your cunt, filthy words you can’t quite catch but if you could see him, he would be sporting a shit-eating grin. 

The heat in your stomach coils, feeling the sensation down your spine as you whimper, one final swipe of his tongue over your clit within the immense build up of tension has you brokenly moaning out, “Come—fuck, I’m c-coming, Luce.”

Lucien laps at your greedily, prying your thighs apart forcefully.

“Shit—” His voice encourages, “—such a sweet fuckin’ pussy. Makes me fuckin’ crazy. Need you to taste it, baby.”

He’s already moving up your body as your lips part, your tongue dipping blindly into his mouth and tasting the headiness of you on his tongue, a sweet tang that isn’t unwelcomed. You don’t often make it a habit to kiss him after he’s gone down on you—he’s often messy, face a mix of saliva and you, smeared all over his chin, but the frenzy in his voice is hard to deny, giggling softly into his mouth as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

You’re still effectively blind, rubbing your palm over the inseam of his silk lounge pants, pulling at the delicate string that was struggling, tight against the length of his cock. Lucien grunts into your neck at the touch and widens his knees against the mattress, biting playful at your skin to soothe it moments later. His hands rub at your weak thighs, still shaking post-orgasm and you can’t help but be eager despite how much energy Lucien had worked out of you.

“Sit up,” You pointedly squeeze at his shaft and lean up, feeling the movement of his body follow. “—my turn.”

Lucien huffs in amusement, shuffling back on his knees as you sit upright. You reach for your blindfold but his hand engulfs your own, “Not yet.” He orders calmly.

You relinquish control to his guidance and sit on your calves as he places your hands flat against his bare chest, just above the softness of his stomach, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. “Like this.”

“But, I want to see you for this.” It’s nearly a beg, more of a test to see how easy he gives into your wants, but he chuckles in response and taps at your chin once. So, that was a no.

Despite how quickly he got off from a single look, his cock stuffed into your mouth and his hand gripping hard at the root of your scalp—maybe he was actually doing himself a favor.

Your shoulders slump slightly, barely noticeable but you smile and trail your fingertips down his abdomen, featherlight as the muscle flexes underneath your touch and they hover around the hem of pants as you lean forward and aim to press a kiss to his sternum, his chest, down and down until you feel your lips brush against the waistband.

“Take it out,” He encourages, “wanna watch you.”

You pull at the waistband with your teeth playfully, curious of just how quickly you're driving Lucien up the wall with the way you're acting, the material catching over his stiff, hard cock and allowing your hands to help you get them the rest of the way down. 

Lucien is kind enough to be a guiding hand, thumb pressed against the side of your jaw as he guides you forward, feeding the head of his cock past your lips, tongue dragging along the tip and under, the brush of foreskin like soft, warm velvet.

And you have him in the palm of your hand like this, despite how helpless you must look. It only takes a few minutes before Lucien is louder, mouthier with his words and harsh with his matching thrusts into your mouth.

Frustrated, Lucien pulls at the knot on your blindfold hastily, the soft grunts of his impending orgasm loud in your ears, feeling so starved of sight that when the blindfold falls away and your eyes open and you’re overwhelmed with light, ignoring the fact that Lucien’s cock was nearly pressing against the back of your throat.

But, it’s quickly nulled out by Lucien, towering over you and blocking most of the harsh fluorescence that drown out the room around you, eyes falling close again despite being free of the blindfold as you take him until your nose is pressing against his groin, the fingers resting at the back of your neck squeezing harshly.

Selfishly, he wants to keep you here for a while longer. A few minutes, a few hours.

“Relajate,” Lucien forces out, his mouth hanging open on the word as you pull away, now wide-eyed and wiping away the string of spit that connects you to him, “there’s no rush.”

You smirk at his words, grinning up at him before you lick at the head of his cock, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you respond, “For you, maybe. But, I want you to fuck me.”

Lucien’s fingers dance along the shell of your ear, drifting down the column of your neck until his palm covers the expanse of it before gripping firmly, a soft gasp ripping from your throat as he forces you to straighten, leaning down into your space.

“Slow, princesa,” Lucien demands, “Or you’ll regret it later.”

As if that didn’t already intrigue you enough, you nod subtly and return his mischievous grin.

Slow is what you give him, long strokes as you circle your tongue around the head of his cock, occasionally dipping your head down to lick the underside of his shaft, too dangerously close to his balls, taut from how obviously he was straining to hold off, his usually perfectly quaffed hair sticking to his forehead and every which way.

There is no wondering—you could do this all day if you wanted, bringing him right to the edge but never quite falling, like he enjoyed doing to you, a shared pastime you’ve explored a few times but clearly not enough—because eventually you just get impatient.

Thankfully he seems to understand, nodding as your lips hover near his cock, playful kisses pressed against his pubic bone and scattered around until you finally decide to swallow him down, a few minutes later and he’s coming down your throat, eyes watering at the force but his eyes are locked on your own and you swallow on instinct, taking a sharp breath when he finally pulls back, seemingly just as wrecked as you were a half hour ago as he slumps into the bed, landing on back beside you, his hand rubbing over your knee tenderly.

“Are you up for a snack?” 

You look at him quizzically, bemused at his question.

“Is that code?” You tease, fingers scratching at his overgrown stubble beard, “Should I be worried?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Lucien laughs gruffly, groaning as he turns on his side and slips off the bed, walking naked to the door and out of the room casually, coming back into the room with a sizeable plate of cut fruit and you grin, his heel forcing the door closed behind him. “See?”

He offers the plate up as proof as he sets it at the bedside table, though his fingers linger near the closed drawer a few centimeters beneath it. And you know where things are heading, the routine isn’t always the same, but Lucien liked to cover most, if not all the bases on nights where he was really needing the distraction. It seemed to be one of those nights, watching as his fingers dipped inside the drawer to grab the wrist restraints that hooked to the center of his headboard, a soft material that helped with comfort but made it damn near impossible to slip out if you really wanted to while your hands were hooked up.

But, that’s what Lucien wanted. The ability to trust that he would know your limits or that you would trust him enough to react to the safe word if you ever, for any reason, needed to use it.

“Oh—” Your gaze lingers and Lucien rubs the material in his hands.

“This alright?” He wonders, though the glint in your eye is enough of an answer.

You laugh softly through your nose and take the binding in his hand, slipping your wrist through the loops, leisurely scooting back until you hit the headboard, raising your arms above your head, “You tell me?”

Lucien chews absently at his bottom lip as he takes a rogue bite out of one of the strawberries on the plate before leaning onto his knee against the mattress, securing the restraint into place. A small latch that was also accessible to you if needed. He leans down quickly and you’re unprepared for the suddenness of it but he presses against you in a slow, sloppy kiss that leaves you chasing after the sweet juice that lingered in his mouth, mixed with the glass of malt whiskey he’d had earlier.

“Blindfold too?” You ask curiously.

Lucien shakes his head distractedly and takes his seat beside you on the bed, facing in the opposite direction so you’re both facing each other. The lack of clothing should feel distracting, but you’re too focused on his face, watching as he carefully bunches up the leaves on a strawberry and presses it to your lips, tongue curling around it and biting into it with a soft crunch.

‘What’s with the food?” You ask with a slightly furrowed brow, food stuffed in your cheek as you chew, “Not that I’m complaining but…this is…”

“Baby, relax,” He notices the tensing of the muscles in your forearm, nodding in the general direction—you hadn’t realized how hard you were curling your hands into fists until he pointed it out, “—remember the new assistant I hired?”

Another bite and the strawberry is done for, Lucien’s finger following as he wipes away the mess of juice around your bottom lip, savoring it for himself as he presses his thumb against his thumb and sucks and if he sees the way your thighs inch together, he doesn’t say anything. 

You hum in acknowledgment and chew at the fruit, remembering the fresh-faced and terrified young man who Lucien had given a shot to after firing his old assistant—the embezzling funds was a problem, but he also insisted that he needed a fresh start, but you didn’t think he meant that fresh.

“I was craving it,” Lucien shrugged, “He went and picked up a bunch of shit.”

“Craving it,” You mince the words and Lucien chuckles, noticing your pointed gaze, “—for a sex thing, clearly.”

Caught. Sort of. 

Lucien was big on trying new things—it was harmless, but the way he had tore into a peach during the picnic luncheon at for the acting agency both he and Rose worked under, eyes locked on you as he split it in half and shared the other half with you, less than careful about the way he cleaned up the juices on himself and you, finding yourself unexpectedly drooling over him in one of your less than finest moments. It was either the delicious fruit or an oral fixation. Maybe both. 

He shoved a slice of kiwi between his teeth and leaned forward, pressing the fruit into your mouth and following with his tongue, devouring you into a kiss that has you whining quietly into his mouth, pulling away as you leaned forward to chase after him, chewing at the fruit in annoyance as you slumped back.

“Play nice, princesa.” Lucien teases.

“I am,” You retort with a sharp bite in your town, “you are making me wait.”

Lucien takes the ringlet slice of pineapple and squeezes it over your bare chest, down the valley of your breasts and you gasp at the sudden change in temperature against your hot to the touch skin, eyes snapping to the liquid traveling to your belly button.

“Lucien!” 

You shriek, watching as he tossed the mangled fruit aside and made his ascent, licking from your belly button to the junction of your neck in one go, hovering over you with a devilish smile.

“If you don’t fuck me right now—” You gritted through clenched teeth and he presses his forehead against your own, giving you nowhere to hide as he stares you down, “I swear to god, Luce—”

“You trust me, right?”

“Stupid question,” You retort, nudging him back with your nose, “of course.”

Lucien hides the bemused expression on his face as he looks away, leaning over the side of the bed for a couple items that are out of your line of sight but quickly come into view as he lays them against your stomach, his thighs slotted underneath your own, taut muscle rubbing against your skin.

“Thought we could,” He separates them out carefully along your abdomen, “try a few at once.”

A gag—familiar and frequently used, black leather around a silicone black ball. A different blindfold, more like a sleep mask—it looked like Lucien’s sleep mask, actually. He could use the traditional one he tends to stick with but it seems he’s aiming for comfort here, fingers tracing along the last item with a raised brow.

“Ear buds? Really, Lucien? Headphones?” You giggle softly, “You want me to listen to music while we—”

“No, no—” Your laughter is infectious and he chuckles too, “baby, they’re just noise canceling.”

“Oh?” Your wrist yanks in interest before you realize you’re still restrained.

“If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Lucien is very clear about that, fingertips pressed into the sheets beside your hips. 

“You really like when I give over control, don’t you?” You tease playfully.

“Como siempre.” He says softly before leaning down to nip at your breasts, eyes flicking up at you.

“Okay, yes. But—” You look up at your hands, bound but not uncomfortable, “maybe no blindfold. I’ll keep my eyes closed but I want to see you. I like being able to see you.”

Lucien nods in agreement, a slow and treatours pace he takes as he retreats, tongue dragging down the center of your body and still tasting slightly of citrus. He smirks at your obvious squirming before doing away with the blindfold and allowing himself to get everything else in order.

The gag comes first, a small muffled grunt as he tightens the strap around the back of your head, adjusting it until you give him a solid nod. It helped that despite your inability to communicate verbally that Lucien had created a way for you to rid yourself of your wrist restraints whenever everything felt a little too much but you weren’t worried about using your safe word, a small latch connected to the metal chain that linked you to the headboard, easily accessible. And then the headphones, an odd experience to say the least—you can’t imagine what kind of money Lucien wasted on these because they immediately drown out all noise, the small buds resting in your ears and relatively out of sight.

It feels ridiculous, but when Lucien speaks and you can’t hear, your heart races with an anticipation you’ve never felt before. Exhilaration, more like.

You have no other choice than to watch—watch as Lucien settles comfortably back, kneeling as he runs his fingers along the underside of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them and rolling them around leisurely, your eyes watching every single movement, teeth baring down gently around the ball as he fists him, fingers dragging over his shaft and working himself up quickly, his chest slightly flushed from a mix of your previous activities and now, his eyes never settling on one piece of your body for too long.

You communicate through nods and eye contact, feelings incredibly vulnerable in the moment, watching as Lucien pressed himself inside of you with slow intention and you swear you can hear the deep exhale he forces out through his nose as it flares before he settles and gives you no time at all to prepare, a small gasp escaping you as your finger tighten around the slack in the strap connection your wrist cuffs to the bed, a slow but deep snap of his hips that shatters your focus, back arching into his touch as his fingers run along your spine and dig in, gripping you tight, practically sitting in his lap with the angle he has you held at.

“Mi vida,” He sighs, knowing you can’t hear him, “mi vida, mi vida, mi vida,” growing quiet with every utterance of it, “too perfect for me, baby.”

The vibration of his voice is pressed against your collarbone, his nose dragging along the junction of your neck and you’re so curious of what he’s saying, but you try not to let your mind wander—not that he allows much of that, gradually switching the pace to something stronger.

You wished you were stronger than Lucien liked to give you credit for, but you do find that your impatience eats away at you, coming in short whines and pleading looks and Lucien catches your gaze, eyes soft and watery. 

He’s breathing out in short grunts through his mouth and you can see his nose scrunch up as he groans, fingers digging into your skin, squeezing tight at your hips—you can’t do it anymore, reaching your fingers up to grasp at the latch keeping your arms hoisted up, falling back in a heap with Lucien pressed against your chest, hastily slipping your hands out of the binding.

Lucien catches on quickly, working the gag off and tossing it aside, hearing it clink heavily against a nearby object but neither of you bother looking and quickly discarding the headphones on the nightstand, his forearms coming around your head to barricade you in.

You’ve never felt more safe.

“Pobrecita, come on,” Lucien coos, “ask for it, yeah? You want me to touch you?” Lucien moans heavily against your skin, your own hands twisting it his hair, fingers curling gently around the back of his ears, “Want me to make you come with my cock inside you? Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” You whine softly, “touch me—please, just touch me.”

He doesn’t move quick enough, finding that your hand quickly searches for his own, pressing it between your bodies and his fingers know you, working like muscle memory as he circles your clit a combination of his middle and ring and it’s nearly instantaneous, a mix of built up tension and desperate need for release. Your fingers pinch at the skin of his neck as you come, pulling the hair at the nape of neck and breathing in a sharp gasp, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it, baby.” Lucien breathes quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your breast as you come, eventually finding your lips and kissing you thoroughly, silencing your weak moans, chest heaving deeply in the aftermath as he pulls back, nothing he’s on the edge himself.

“I want you in my mouth again,” You sound desperate, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze from where he towers over you, fists gripping the sheets, “wanna taste us together, baby.”

Lucien rises suddenly, one palm pressed against the headboard as he grips his cock with the other, quickly spilling over your stomach, a sigh punches from his chest as he comes down, flush with a slight embarrassment at how easily it was for you to work him up.

“Or not,” You say through a tired laugh, soft and airy, “too much?”

“Never.” Lucien assures, brow furrowing in amusement as he drags a finger through the mess he made, bringing it to your mouth and allowing you to suck, lick, and make an over the top and unnecessary show as you swallow his cum and Lucien feels his cock twitch between his legs, despite how tired his body felt. 

“Jesus, princesa,” He laughs, “—greedy tonight?”

You mirror his actions, bringing your own finger into the mess before pressing it into his mouth—and Lucien opens with a lust-drunk grin, capturing your wrist in a tight grip and licking off his own spend from your finger.

“Absolutely.”

And thank god, because your night was far from over.

↝ beta: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[localplaguenurse]

(Puts cracker in your mouth)

I am eating your blind reader right outta the pot and I was struck with a singular thought that hasn’t left my mind

What if when reader bumped into pants he ruined pants’ clothing in some kinda way (spilled drink/smeared ink from hands/food being smeared on etc)

For context: I was brainstorming a future fic starring a blind reader in discord.

You know what? It's not going in the current version so I'm writing this version here. Consider this a part one to the actual fic. (sorry beta)

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader)

Notes: SFW, first meetings, Pantalone's kind of a dick, and so is Reader's dad. Reader has retinitis pigmentosa which is a genetic condition that causes your retinas to deteriorate over time. He has central vision but also experiences night blindness and loss of peripheral vision. Not beta read.

The sounds of merriment echo through the halls of your family estate, the clicks and clacks of your typewriter unable to drown the sound out as you work. The noises grow louder once the band kicks in, and grow louder still once dinner is served. The smell of fresh food does not travel to your study like the music and laughter did, this section of the manor is a little too remote for that, but you know with the chime of the clock on your wall that this is when it should be brought out.

While not an outright demand, your father had advised you wait in your office for a servant to bring you a helping. Your mother protested, saying there were plenty of people who would love to meet her darling sweetheart of a son, there's no need for you to stay cooped up in your study! You gently reassured her that it was fine, really. The deadline for your novel's first draft is coming up soon, so you really should focus on finishing it as soon as you can. Besides, there is some rather elite company attending the party, and you know your father does not want to risk you making a fool of yourself, and also him by association.

Time ticked on, and your stomach growled, breaking the concentration you barely maintained on writing. You look up, right at the spot on the wall where the clock is. While you can't really see the time at this distance, you know the staff should have brought you your helping some time ago. You sigh, and stand.

You don't dislike parties, you think you enjoy them as much as the next person actually. The problem is that you don't like large, crowded parties due to your condition. Your central vision is perfectly fine, but you've been steadily losing your peripheral vision ever since you were little. It's been especially bad the past few years, to the point you will trip over anything that is not directly in front of you, like furniture and people. When your parents throw elaborate parties or host networking events, your father will suggest you stay up in your room or your study (to avoid any blunders as a result of not seeing the millionaire standing right beside you). While you know there is good meaning behind it, it feels isolating, even a little patronizing at times.

Even if the darkness of the hallway renders you completely blind, you've walked down it enough times you do not worry about tripping. Hand on the railing, you make your way down the stairs, and the light of the estate grows brighter with each step you take down. Before you fully descend, you let your eyes scan the room to try and make a mental map of where everyone is to avoid bumping into anyone on your way.

You barely make it to the ground before you feel a familiar presence and smell a familiar blend of cologne and champagne on your right. You're glad you can't see out of the corner of your eyes because you know exactly what face your father is making right now. You know he's not happy to see you downstairs before he even speaks.

"I thought you were working on your manuscript?" he asks, the accusatory tone in his voice on the more subtle side.

You shrug. "I wanted something to eat."

"Colleen was supposed to bring you your food," your father retorts.

"If she did, I wouldn't have come downstairs, would I?"

Your father scoffs. "Look, just go back upstairs, and I'll talk to Colleen."

A second voice chimes in, softer and sweeter. Your mother. "Oh, sweetie!" Her face comes into view, and she seems happy to see you. "Are you done your manuscript already?"

"Colleen didn't bring him his food, apparently," your father says.

Your mom turns her head in the direction of your father's voice. "Dear, Colleen left early, remember? Wasn't feeling well? She said Adelaide was supposed to bring him his food." "That's a lie, I haven't seen Adelaide at all tonight!"

You raise a hand. "Or, or, I'm an adult who knows where the kitchen is and can get my own serving?"

Your mother cups your face in her hands. "No no, we'll get you something, unless you're here to socialize as well? I was just talking to this woman, she has a daughter about your age-"

"I'm just going to get my food," you quickly cut in, "maybe I'll play matchmaker next time, but I just want something to eat and then I'll get back to work."

"Let the staff get it," your father tells you.

You pull away from your mother and turn to glare at your father. "It's fine. I can get it myself."

You step around your parents but feel your mom clasp your arm. "You father just-"

"Doesn't want me bumping into people, I know, and I won't."

You take two steps before your left side slams right into a passing partygoer. You stumble and hit the ground, while whoever you bumped into manages to maintain their footing. Glass breaks, and when you hit the ground you feel wetness soaking the back of your shirt and the front as well. You hear your mother gasp, and the room goes silent. Even the band has paused their playing, and you can feel the eyes of the room on you.

"What is wrong with you?"

While the man's voice is melodic, it only serves to make your face burn hotter with embarrassment. This is why your dad doesn't invite you to join them at parties, you remind yourself. When you do not immediately answer the question, opting to instead push yourself up, the man continues to chastise you.

"Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? How much it's going to cost to have it properly cleaned?"

You roll over so you're sitting up. Red stains your shirt. "Sorry, I-I didn't see you there."

"Clearly! How painfully unobservant do you have to be to not see me coming through? I was right next to you!"

You drag your gaze up the man's body, as he takes up the entirety of your eyesight. Everything he wears looks designer, and as you take in his shoes, his dress pants, you make it to his suit jacket and shirt. He's wearing black with hints of indigos and dark blues, but the wine stain is still very visible on his chest. Your eyes continue, and you see a snarling, but handsome, but still very angry face. You don't recognize him from the long black hair, the glasses with the bedazzled chain, or the shine of his eyes. You recognize him from the pin on his lapel. At this distance you recognize the Fatui symbol, and your face blanches.

You just ran into a Harbinger.

You hear the footsteps of your father approach. "M-Mister Regrator, I am so, so sorry for my son's actions, I-I'm sure that's a very expensive suit and I am deeply sorry."

The Regrator does not take his eyes off of you. "Yes. Very expensive. Expensive even for you."

"I-I swear, I'm sorry," you stammer, "I didn't see you, I really didn't see you there, I-I-"

You feel your father pull you up by the arm. "I already told you to go upstairs."

Pantalone watches as your father drags you away. You only protest a little before accepting defeat as you are pulled up the stairs. He feels the scowl on his face worsen when your mother approaches with the most desperate and pitiful expression he thinks he's ever seen a woman of her standing wear.

"Are you alright, my lord?" she asks timidly.

Pantalone takes a step back as a maid comes over to clean up the broken glass. "I'm fine, thank you."

"I am so sorry about that, if you'd like, w-we can have our staff clean your suit for you."

"This material is incredibly expensive and difficult to thoroughly wash," Pantalone states, "I highly doubt your staff would know how to clean it."

The woman looks down, embarrassed. "A-Ah, I see..." She looks back up at him, her expression somehow more pitiful than before. "Please, forgive my son, it was an accident, truly. H-He didn't see you there."

"Oh, I know," Pantalone replies, grinning harshly at the woman, "I'm just surprised at how unobservant someone can be, it's almost impressive."

The woman bites her lip, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Still, she clears her throat, though she does not meet the Regrator's eyes. "M-My son is going blind."

Somehow the room goes quieter.

Pantalone stares at the woman as the words echo in his mind. He blinks, and his expression dulls a little. "Your son is what?"

"Going blind." She lifts her head up a little bit. "It's a genetic condition, m-my father had it as well. He's been losing his eyesight little by little ever since he was a boy. The doctor at his last appointment s-said he's lost most if not all peripheral vision now."

Pantalone can feel the wine begin to soak through to his shirt now. His eyes scan the room, and the guests are clearly pretending they're not listening to the conversation. He turns to the woman, his voice displeased but noticeably softer. "So the, ah, 'unobservant' assumption..."

"He truly did not see you," the woman reiterates, "I-I can't speak for him, of course, but if he's anything like how my father was at his age, he cannot see anything unless it is directly in front of him."

Pantalone clicks his tongue. "Is that so?"

The woman nods. Silence fills the room for a few moments, and then Pantalone sighs.

"In any case, I have to leave," he says, "I do not have a change of clothes, and I really should have this cleaned as soon as possible."

"A-Apologies again, Lord Pantalone..."

Your mother watches Pantalone as he leaves, praying to any Archon who will hear her plea that perhaps the Regrator will take pity on you on account of your condition. She also mentally curses your father for even inviting the man over. Sure, things have been getting a little shaky financially for your family, but getting buddy-buddy with a Harbinger can't be worth it, can it? They're an unsavoury lot she doesn't want around, especially around you.

Your father is already in a foul mood when he comes back downstairs, having lectured you for literally blindly running into Pantalone. The two had plans to work together, after all, so that spectacle could have completely cost the family any chance at maintaining the dwindling fortune. He becomes more upset with your mother when he finds the Regrator has left already, sparking an argument that finally kills the party, leaving the guests to awkwardly mingle before finally leaving hours before the party is set to end.

Your father does not talk to you for a few days. Your mother offers smiles and reassurance that everything will be fine, but the spats echoing down the hall lead you to believe otherwise. You attempt to tune out the building stress in your household and focus on your work, but it's in vain. In the quiet moments between replacing the paper in the typewriter, or when you cannot figure out how a scene is meant to play out, you briefly picture the Regrator's face and feel your face burn up again. Is it anger? Embarrassment? A little bit of attraction? Yes, probably.

The tension in the house reaches a boiling point when a letter sealed with the Regrator's insignia is delivered to the estate.

"You're paying for the suit, boy," your father snaps, figure barely visible as he paces the drawing room lit only by the fireplace.

"W-We don't know if that's what the letter is," your mother remarks, "and he doesn't have enough to cover for it."

"That's the worst part! We would have to cover the majority of it!"

"Can you just open the fucking envelope?!" you finally snap.

Your father advances towards you from the darkness, suddenly right in front of you. "Don't you speak to me like that when this is your fault!"

Both of you flinch when your mother all but rips the envelope from your father's hands. She steps just out of your line of vision, and you hear the ripping sound of the envelope. After a few moments, she lets out a loud sigh of relief.

"He's apologizing and forgiving us for the misunderstanding," your mother says, "though he, ah, he does want us to split the cleaning costs..." You hear the flutter of paper, and she absentmindedly steps forward as she reads the letter. "Oh, j-just for the shirt. That is... oof, that's still a little much..."

You sigh. "I should have enough money saved. Might have to put off moving out for a little longer, though."

"Oh, don't be so down!" your mother awkwardly laughs. "We don't mind having you here a little longer. It gives me peace of mind knowing you're safe! And there are o better doctors out there than in Snezhnaya!"

Your dad has disappeared out of view, but you can still feel his stare. You don't think he's as thrilled as your mother is, but it's better than him paying the full cost of Pantalone's dry cleaning. You wonder if there's anything in the letter stating if he'll still work with your father, and if that means you'll have to see him again before you eventually move. You hope you never see him out of sheer embarrassment, but a part of you wants to. It would be nice to remember a more cheery expression on his handsome face before the day your central vision finally leaves you.

[lunicho]

(send riize asks to @angeltsan)

{𐙚 10:43} l. anton + l. sohee

♡ 3.8k | dom!anton, subby inexperienced!sohee, fem!reader, cuckholding, oral (f!receiving), premature ejaculation, unprotected sex (don't be like them), cumming inside, cum eating, anton is kinda an asshole, sohee is kinda pathetic

♡ a/n: DON'T READ THE LAST SENTENCE OMG ITS SO BAD IM SORRY,, im so bad at ending fics,,, anyways its been tew long since i wrote smth new so feast my loves,, i've kept y'all starving fr (i'm sorry) also new fic layout 😝😝 gonna be updating stuff on my blog so yeahhh.

you'd been with anton for a while. over that time you've come to learn a lot about him and things that he likes. of all the things you've learned, this might be the craziest one. 

a momentary silence fell over the room as you looked down at your hands, fiddling a little. you crossed your arms over your chest and thought hard. “okay wait.. you wanna do what?” 

anton tried to explain again, his voice quiet, “well sohee likes you.. and i know you like him and i'm okay with that.. i think we should let him have sex with us.. at least once.” 

you continued thinking, “i mean yeah i like sohee, but i don't know if i like him like that.. a- and how long has he liked me?” you were sort of struggling to wrap your head around the whole thing, the idea of sohee liking you as more than a friend never crossing your mind. 

“the same amount of time i've liked you, we both wanted you originally.. i just ended up being the one to make it official.” you frowned a little at this, suddenly feeling bad for sohee. you don't know if it was pity or if you really wanted this but something in you wanted to say yes to the whole idea. 

you weren't vanilla by any means when it came to sex but bringing one of anton's close friends into your bed was a little daunting, the idea of being the reason to ruin their friendship scared you. anton contrasted from you, he had a very calm demeanor about the whole thing, this both intrigued and intimidated you. 

“okay, we can do it..” you looked up at anton from where you sat, watching his eyes light up. he placed a large hand on the back of your head, just his gaze made you feel small. with his other hand he hooked a finger under your chin to tilt your head upward, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. his kisses alone could take your breath away.

when you first got with anton he was nothing like this. he was shy, awkward, and honestly just overall submissive to you but the more you got to know him and the more confident he got, his personality began to really come out. he's still like that sometimes but the way he kisses you, the way he carries himself at times, even the way he fucks you is so different.

you whimper under your breath, pulling away slowly moments later, your teeth tugging at your lip gently, “so when do you want to do this?” you gazed up at the boy, your arms wrapping around him as you wait for his response. 

“i'll bring him over.. we can kind of feel things out you know? maybe watch some movies and have some snacks beforehand?” you nod at this, a wave of nerves washing over you, “what if something goes wrong? like what if you and sohee aren't friends after this?” 

anton chuckles at you, his cocky demeanor making you press your legs together. “we're still friends after i got the girl he wanted, what makes you think he wouldn't want to be friends after this? i’m practically doing him a favor.”

you nod at this, it's somewhat true, but you didn't want to let it bother you, anton was relaxed about it and this was his friend after all so you were okay with it.

you'd never paid much attention to the way sohee interacted with you until now. the way his hands would pull away extra fast when you'd hand him things, the fear of accidentally touching you taking over him. you even noticed the way he stared at you when he thought you weren't looking, you'd caught him out of the corner of your eye a few times now. 

you brought a bowl of popcorn over to the coffee table that was in the middle of your living room. the tv was on, waiting for commands from the remote.

sohee sat alone on the couch to the side of the one you were on, the bottoms of his  feet facing the tv and he kept his eyes trained on the screen, or at least that's what he wanted you to think. you see him now though, zoned in at the way he stares at your leg that's poking out of the blanket or how he just stares at you while you reach for another handful of popcorn. 

you were sat in anton's lap, his back leaned against the arm of the couch while you laid on your side cuddling into his chest. you couldn't help the way your gaze wandered to sohee, curiosity flooding your mind. you'd never thought about him differently, he'd always just been anton's friend but you'd be lying if you said you still thought of him that way now. 

you wondered what he'd look like naked, how his lips would feel on yours, how it'd feel to have his and anton’s hands on you at the same time, the thought made you squirm slightly in your spot. 

“mind wandering?” you turned to anton with a smile, your head gently nodding. anton adjusted you in your spot, your back now flush to his chest. there was a small blanket lazily thrown across the two of you, the fabric covering your lap slightly. 

anton's hands were gentle on you, big but delicate. you weren't looking at the tv at all anymore, your mind focused on the feeling of anton's hands on your body. he drags his hands across your waist and hips, fingertips slightly sliding across the waistband of your shorts. 

he'd specially requested for you to wear this pair of shorts, it happened to be his favorite pair and apparently sohee's as well. the two of them seemed to have a lot more in common than you originally thought. anton also specially requested that you “forgot” to wear panties tonight. 

his hand easily dipped into your pants, two of his fingers falling to your wet hole. he firmly dragged two fingers up your cunt, wetting it fully in the process. you breathed out of your nose, your legs opening up more for him. 

his pointer and ring fingers push your lips apart, his middle finger lazily flicking your bud up and down. neither one of you faced the tv at this point, anton placed lazy kisses on your shoulder while you soaked up the pleasure. 

anton speaks in a barely audible murmur into your ear, your eyes slowly peeling open at the sound of his voice, “let's show you off, call for him baby.” 

you nod along with what he said, your mind already feeling foggy. he dips both fingers into your hole, his long slender fingers curving up into you, “s-sohee..” 

he visibly perks up at the sound of your voice, his body stiffening. he was trying so hard to mind his business, you and anton moving around was so hard to ignore. he suspected something was going on but the sound of the movie drowned out the slick noises of your pussy. 

anton moved the blanket off of your lap, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder than before. “wanna come see the pussy you've been dreaming about?” anton's tone is dripping with lust and cockiness. he's smiling at sohee, his free hand moving to grab a handful of your breast. 

your hand grips onto the arm he's fucking into you with as you feel yourself getting closer, you squeeze your eyes shut, a string of moans escaping your lips. 

sohee's frozen where he's at, already embarrassingly hard all of this is too much, he can't believe what's unfolding in front of him. 

the sound of your moans as you cum on anton's hand catches sohee's attention, he admires your beautiful expression, the one he'd daydreamed about for so long. 

your breathing is ragged, your head leaning back on anton's shoulder as you catch your breath. he let's go of your breast and uses that hand to gently grip your throat, his lips peppering kisses on your cheek as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your shorts. 

he rubs the backs of his fingers against your lips, your mouth opening for him. he slides the pads of his fingers down your throat, leaning to your ear once again. “invite him over.. let him play with you.” 

you lift your head off his shoulder,, your shorts sticking to your slick. “wanna come over here? wanna sit by me?” you pat the spot in between your legs, almost like you're calling over a puppy. sohee hesitates, his eyes trained on you. 

you could tell sohee was a bit more like anton used to be, again, shy, timid, a little awkward, and definitely not as dominant as anton is now. 

sohee nods weakly, walking over to you, unable to look either of you in the eyes, especially not anton. he didn't expect for this to somehow be so humiliating for him. he sat in front of you, shivering when he felt your hand gently rub down his arm. this made you smile, “relax hee.. i don't bite.” 

sohee let out a shaky breath, his eyes finally meeting yours. you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently. anton stood up as you did this, his hands moving to your shoulders. when he moved you readjusted, one of your legs resting gently on sohee's lap. 

you could feel how hard he was under your leg, his breath hitching in his throat when you put the slightest bit of pressure on his cock. you noticed how small it was, especially in comparison to anton's but you thought that was so endearing, smiling at the idea. 

anton leaned down to your ear, his whispers tickling you slightly, “show him how you kiss me, how you make me feel good..” he places small nibbles and kisses from your ear down to your shoulder. you shut your eyes at this, a shiver falling down your spine. his firm hands grip onto your shoulders, lightly massaging them in his grasp. you sigh contently at the feeling of anton's hands on your body. 

you open your eyes again, they immediately meet sohee's pretty round orbs. “you alright if i kiss you?” you look down at his lips, suddenly noticing how pretty and soft they are. you smile and chuckle a little, noticing a few crumbs of popcorn on his lips. 

you cup his jaw in your hand, your thumb wiping away at the bits of popcorn. he wordlessly accepts your question, his head nuzzling into your grasp. you pull him in, the taste of salt spreading across your mouth when you swipe your tongue along sohee’s lip. you're quickly able to take control of the kiss, one of your hands moving to the back of his head. 

he pushes into the kiss, his body moving forward. sohee's desperate in the way that he kisses, the passion is definitely there. you can tell he's been waiting for this moment with the way he's carrying himself at this point. 

your hand snakes into the hair on the back of his head, your fingers taking hold of the strands there. you pull him away from you, a smile creeping into your face at the way he whines at the feeling of you tugging at his scalp as well as the loss of your lips. 

at this point you're more into this idea than you thought you'd be. you don't yet let go of sohee's hair, your gaze trailing up anton's body until you meet his eyes, his stare filled with satisfaction. 

“should i let him fuck me ton? don't you think he's waited so long, so patiently?” your gaze falls back on sohee, his eyes are unconsciously pleading for you. you let go of his hair, your hand caressing his face again. 

anton nods at you with a shrug, “i mean, he won't be able to fill you up like i do. his cock is so tiny, don't know if he'll even be able to make you cum.” you notice the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, his smile widening at the sound of sohee’s sad whines. 

“be nice ton! i'm sure he can make me feel good anyways, it's not always about size, right hee?” the boy nods eagerly, another whine leaving him at the nickname you call him. “i- i can do it! can make you feel so good!” he's both shy and desperate in the way he speaks to you, you're getting impossibly wetter by the second. 

anton chuckles to himself again, his hands moving to readjust himself, he's so hard by this point but he's holding himself off. 

he gets behind you once again, his hands grabbing onto the bottom of your top. he pulls it over your head, leaving you with your bra on. he tosses your top onto the table, his eyes staring at sohee. 

sohee, although still fully dressed, feels naked under both of your gaze. he'd never seen anton have this look in his eyes before. he focuses back on you and the way you're laid out before him. 

“go on hee, take my shorts off.” your gaze is heavy on sohee, performance anxiety slowly trickling in. you cuddle back into anton, fingers intertwining with his as they rest on your chest, your legs open in front of sohee. 

with a shaky hand, sohee reaches for the waistband of your pants. he looks so cute right now, shyly moving your shorts down your body. you lift up to help him take them off your legs, the piece of clothing falling to the floor.

sohee bites his lip at the sight of your glistening pussy, swallowing hard as if his mouth was watering over it. “can i.. can i taste you first?” his voice is small and shy, but his fingertips run along your thigh, making you breath out a small moan. anton snorts at this, already knowing how it’ll play out. he leisurely runs his free hand up and down your body.

you nod eagerly at his question, your hole clenching around nothing. sohee notices this as he adjusts his position, laying on his stomach in front of you. luckily the couch is a little bit longer but one of sohee's legs still hangs off the couch, the other resting against the cushion but he doesn't mind. 

you think he looks a little silly but don't pay it much mind, finding him too pitiful to laugh. his thumb shyly runs up your slit, his big eyes looking into yours for a second. he smiles to himself, his excitement evident. 

although he asked to taste you, he actually wasn't too sure what to do, he tried to recall what he'd seen in porn videos but his mind was blank. anton noticed this and he smiled about it a little. 

“you don't even know what to do, huh?” anton knows sohee lacks experience, technically he’s not a virgin, he did have sex once before but it wasn’t much to talk about. sohee shakes his head, his facial expression making you pout at him. 

“do what feels right, me and ton will help you, okay?” you try to reassure him, giving him as much encouragement as you could. anton rolls his eyes slightly at the fact that he was volunteered but he agrees with you anyways. 

sohee musters up the courage to do something, his lips nibbling at the skin of your thigh gently. he places small kisses along your skin, his lips finally resting on your clit. you're full of anticipation, wondering what he'd do next.

a confused expression plays on your face, the movement sohee's doing with his mouth feels strange and unfamiliar. you try to decipher what doesn’t feel right, “think you’re using too much lip sohee, use your tongue.” 

he lifts his head again and nods, eager to learn from you. he sticks his tongue out, dragging it along your pussy, you suck in a breath at this, nodding to sohee. “there you go, such a good boy. anton struggled with this a bit too when we first got together.” your words encouraged sohee but were a bit of a blow to anton. sohee snickered quietly at this, noticing the way anton looked a little annoyed.

his nerves start to subside by this point, allowing him to think a little clearer. the tip of his tongue drew circles on your clit, earning a moan from you. your noises made him more confident, encouraging him to try new things. he sucks on your clit now, finding out what you like each time. 

“such a quick learner, sohee..” the soft praises that fell from your lips got him more riled up than before. you noticed his hips begin to rut into the couch as he ate you out. your hips rolled against his tongue, sohee’s whines vibrating against you. 

anton has his hands in your bra, his fingers playing with your nipples. “gonna cum y/n?” you moan in response to anton's question, your head nodding quickly. anton's fingers pinch at your sensitive buds, adding to the overall feeling. 

sohee humps the couch, his orgasm building up too quickly for him to keep up with. you moan out, your hips stuttering against his tongue. 

he slurps up your juices, his hips stilling too early as he cums in his pants. a frustrated sigh falls from sohee's lips as he accidentally ruins his own orgasm, still painfully hard. 

you sit up after this, eyes locking with sohee's, “want you to fuck me hee, wanna see what you got.” sohee's mind is cloudy, his body moving quicker than his mind can. he stands up off the couch, removing his shirt before running his hands through his hair. 

you move to help sohee out, your hands eagerly untying his pajama pants. when his pants fall down you're immediately met with the sight of his red, dripping, cock and it makes you smile up at him. 

“no underwear? must've been so eager..” you grab his length in your hand, the size easily fitting in your grasp. 

you look at it like you're investigating something, “did you cum in your pants baby?” sohee nods, suddenly feeling embarrassed again but you praise him instead, telling him how cute he is. 

you lay flat on your back now, inviting sohee between your legs again. anton is standing again, now removing his own clothes 

sohee hovers over you, one arm hooking under your leg. your hand caresses his cheek again, “fuck me pretty boy.” 

he presses into you, his hips quickly becoming flush with yours. he leans down on his elbow, his face close to yours as his hips begin to rut into yours. 

he wastes no time picking up a steady pace, his desperation taking over. his hips snap against you harshly, both of you moaning continuously.

you kiss sohee, eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of him. he's so caught up in the sensation, no thoughts in his mind right now. he feels his orgasm bud in his stomach, pulling away from the kiss. he nuzzled his face into your neck, his cum shooting into you.

“m’ sorry, so sorry!!” sohee's voice is apologetic and whiny as he speaks. you laugh quietly which catches sohee's attention, he slowly lifts his face to look at you. “it's okay, gorgeous, you're alright.” 

anton sighs, hand gently stroking his length in his grasp. he’s had enough of watching the two of you, this was his idea after all but the thought of you being left unsatisfied has him almost losing it. “let me show you how to really fuck her good.” 

he takes sohee’s place, positioning you with your ass in the air. its moments like this where you’re reminded how strong he is, the way he slightly lifts you by your hips. he spreads your pussy lips apart, the sight of sohee’s cum dripping out of you making his cock twitch.

“fuck..” anton’s big hands grip your ass cheeks firmly, just the feeling of his hands anywhere on your body makes you so needy. you reach for sohee, hands guiding him to the spot in front of you, where anton was sitting before. you grip onto sohee as you feel anton’s fingers dip into you again. sohee watches intently as anton pleases you.

the sound of your pussy rings in your ears, the slick squelching making excitement bubble in your stomach once again. anton rubs the tip of his cock against you, groaning at the feeling of you. he lines up with your opening, pressing his length into you. he slides in relatively easily because of how wet you are. you begin to feel full already, his full length not in you yet.

your hips push back on anton, moving side to side so he enters you fully. you moan at the feeling of him stretching you out. you lick your lips as you eye sohee’s smaller cock in front of you, red and leaking once again. your hand makes a fist on his length, pumping it once or twice in your grasp. sohee’s sensitive by this point, you can tell by the way his body shudders at the feeling of your hand on him.

anton's thrusts are rough and deep as he fucks into you, your body jolting forward with every hit. you muffle your moans on sohee's length, the tip of his cock tickling the back of your throat. 

sohee thrusts into your mouth as he chases his high, one hand in your hair, head thrown back in pleasure. 

your fingernails dig into the skin of sohee's hips as you feel anton repeatedly hit your sweet spot. anton smacks your ass persistently, the sting causing your eyes to roll back. 

you pull off of sohee's length, pumping him in your hand as you moan out. you come undone first, unable to catch your breath as anton continues thrusting into you. 

sohee cums next, his hand grasping onto your jaw so he can place your lips back on his tip, his cum shooting into your mouth. anton follows shortly after, his thrusts slowing down as you feel yourself being filled up once more. he slowly thrusts into you a few more times, his hands gripping you hard. 

when anton pulls out of you he admires your cunt, the sight of you dripping once again, this time with his cum makes him feel good. you hold sohee’s cum in your mouth, sitting up and turning to where they both can see you. anton loves to watch you swallow his seed so it only seems right for you to do it for the both of them. 

you open your mouth, showing the cum that pools on your tongue before you swallow it, sticking out your tongue to show them that you swallowed it. anton grins at you, kissing your cheek lovingly, “such a good girl.” 

sohee watches you, his feelings for you getting stronger, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this after all, but he can’t go back now.

[donghoonie-3]

My Princess

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! sub!fem!reader, dom!sunghoon, consented somno, slight voice kink, hoon chokes reader with his hand and cock, throat fucking, oral (both recieving and giving), teasing, hoon fucks reader raw (don't be silly, wrap your willy 🤕), mentions of breeding, cum eating (gets dirty), slight size and strength kink, daddy kink, hoon calls reader kitten, princess, baby and love (hopefully I'm not missing anything lmao), slight boob play. If I miss anything please lmk!!

Word count: 2.9k

Note for @hoonieswhore <3 hihi, happy birthday !!! I hope you're having a good day today <3 and not only bc it's your birthday but bc you deserve good days 😋 AND NO DW I didn't forget lmao, I wanted to say hbday in this message <3. I hope you like the little birthday gift I wrote for you~ my first time writing sub reader hehe. It gets filthy 🤭.

AN: I still don't take requests, this was a birthday special for a friend hehe. This is my first time writing sub reader and dom idol!!! So I hope it's not too bad 🤕 I kinda went out with this one hehe. ALSO this doesn't mean I'll stop writing sub idol. I think I'll mainly stick to sub idol but might write some dom idol fics. I'll see how it goes.

You were in the middle of some weird dream but slowly that dream turned into a wet one. Your boyfriend was using that pretty mouth of his on you, going in between sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. His hands placed on your plush thighs. It felt so real but its only a dream, right? There's been many times you've had these type of dreams about Sunghoon so you're not surprised you're having another one. As soon as you feel his two fingers stretching your cunt out you let out a moan, still thinking you're dreaming until the pleasure got more and you felt your orgasm nearing. Maybe it's not a dream?

You slowly open your eyes and look down to where you see Sunghoon in between your legs, his eyes closed as he eats you out while his fingers are in you, hitting all the right spots. You let out a loud moan at the sight and the pleasure. You're so fucking close.

"You're awake~ took you long enough." The boy teased. "Feels good, kitten?" He asks before sticking his tongue out, tasting you on his lips. He waits for you to reply but all you do is moan. "I'm asking you a question, princess~ are you already too gone to answer?" He continues to tease you.

"feels so...oh god-" You cut yourself off with a high pitched moan and arch your back, his fingers pushing you over the edge. As soon as he sees this he pull his fingers out, not letting you to ride out your high which leads to a ruined orgasm. "No!! Please, keep going please" you whine, asking him to continue and all he does is smirk.

"Tsk, naughty kitten. Who said you could cum? Hmm?" Sunghoon says as he moves himself up. "My kitten deserve a little punishment~" He teases as he gets up from the bed, you instinctively grab onto his sweatshirt he's wearing, not wanting him to leave you like this.

"Don't go" You unintentionally pout while giving him puppy eyes. "Cute~ I wouldn't leave you like this, princess" He gives you a quick kiss before taking off his bottoms and underwear, following along with his sweatshirt. You pretty much check him out as if you never seen him fully naked before. Your mouth watering when you see his already hard, leaking cock. Which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"Get on your knees" he says in a slightly deeper tone as he sits back down on the bed. His voice sending chills down your spine. "What if I don't?" You ask while still lying down, as if challenging him. He tuts and leans down into your ear. "If you don't, you'll only make your punishment worse. Brat." His deep voice almost making you moan, especially when he calls you brat.

He pulls back a bit. His big hand moving up to rest on your throat but not putting any pressure on it. "Gonna listen to me?" He looks at you with lustful eyes and it almost makes it hard for you to breathe. Which is funny because as soon as he realizes you're not gonna answer him his hand squeezes around your throat, actually making it hard for you to breathe.

"I'm gonna take that as a no then. Open your mouth." He demands, he sounds so hot like this it's hard for you not to do as he says. So you open your mouth for him, already knowing what he's going to do. "Good girl" he says before spitting into your mouth. "Now swallow~" and again, you do as he says.

He completely pulls away from you and manhandles you onto all fours. He kneels behind you and puts one hand on your hip and the other on the top of your back, pressing down to get your face into the pillow while having your ass up. "So fucking pretty like this" he mutters under his breath and you whimper at his actions.

"Gonna fuck you so dumb" he says as he enters two fingers into you. By now you're pretty loose from him fingering you a couple minutes ago. "Please, want it so bad daddy" you shock him with the name you give him. You shock yourself too since you never called him that, you've always wanted to but you weren't sure if he's fine with that which is why you're hoping he's not going to be disgusted with you now.

"I'm s-" Sunghoon doesn't let you finish your sentence. "Daddy, hmm? Didn't think you'd be into that. My little kitten~ or should I say, daddy's little kitten~" He can feel you getting wetter with each time he speaks. It's like he wants you to go insane or something. "You like it that much? Cute~" He says.

"Daddy, please. Want your cock, please" you pout, hiding your face into your arms because of how shy you're getting. "Cutie~ what happened to you being a brat?" Sunghoon keeps teasing you and it only makes you wetter.

He takes his fingers out and puts them into his mouth, wanting to taste you. He then brings his wet fingers to his leaking cock and spreads his precum and saliva along his length. "Ready kitten?" He asks and you give him a quick yes in response.

He puts his big cock into your wet hole. "I fuck you so much and you're still so fucking tight. Just for daddy huh?" He smirks, his dick fully in you, probably bulging at your tummy now. "Mhm, only for daddy~" you say in a needy tone.

"Please, fuck me" you ask him and he lets out a chuckle. "Did you forget this is a punishment?" He says as he starts to move his cock in and out of you at a very slow pace. "Gonna make you beg for me" Sunghoon says in his deep voice.

It feels like you've been like this for hours now but its only been ten minutes. You can't handle this slow pace and you know for sure he cant either. You're surprised that he's still going so slow. "hoon, please...faster" you say, tears in your eyes by now, you want to feel him pounding into you, making you cum over and over again on his big cock. Not this slow pace that's keeping you on edge all the time. 

"What'd you say?" He's obviously teasing, he knows what you said but he wants you to say it louder. "Daddy~ want you to go faster, please." You sound so fucking desperate and it's causing his dick go twitch. "Yeah? Want daddy to fuck you dumb?" He moves his hands up and down your sides as he speaks. "Mhm, will be good, I promise~" you say, hoping to convince him. You know he can't last any longer with this slow pace, he's got to fuck you properly soon.

"If you wanna get fucked you'll have go prove to me you'll be good, will you do that kitten?" He says and you nod quickly. "Good. Get on your knees, on the floor. Gonna have you suck me off, kitten" your boyfriend says as he pulls out, you almost whine at the loss of his cock but you hold it, wanting to be good for him in order to get fucked good.

You quickly get on your knees in front of the side of the bed and he sits up in front of you. "Wanna taste you~" You say and lick your lips. You take your hand to his dick and bring your mouth to his tip. You give him some kitten licks before taking his tip whole into your mouth. "Good girl" he praises. He puts his hand on top of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair. He doesn't do anything though, he let's you take control of your own actions for now.

"Taking me so well, baby girl" Sunghoon praises again, making you moan around his dick which causes vibrations to send through him, making him groan.

You relax your throat and attempt to take him whole. Trying not to gag or choke when his tip hits the back of your throat. His hand tugging on your hair at the feeling of your warm throat tightly around him.

You pull back up completely, your hand jerking him off while you try to catch your breath. "Can you fuck my throat, please" you look at him with puppy eyes. Your eyes tearing up a bit due to your previous actions of trying not to gag. "Fuck, okay" he says with a shaky breath, your tiny hand around his big cock making him feel good.

You go back down to take his cock into your mouth and he immediately pushing your head down, doing just what you wanted. The sudden movement makes you gag which has your eyes tearing up. "So fucking good" Sunghoon moans out, his hips thrusting up as he keeps your head in place with his hand. He leans back on his free hand and throws his head back at the blissful feeling. By now tears are falling down your pretty cheeks and he swears he almost cums when he looks down at you.

Your eyes looking up at his with tears rolling down your rosy cheeks. Your pretty lips stretched out around his big cock and you're slightly drooling around his base too. The way your hair looks messy with his big hand in it. And your tiny hands on his milky thighs. You look so tiny bellow him, it turns him on so much.

You tap his thigh twice as a sign for him to let you go. You pull back and try to catch your breath, coughing a bit which makes him worry. "Are you okay, baby?" He asks you and his facial expression suddenly changed to a worried one. "Mhm, I'm fine" you say with a smile. "Okay, if it gets too much just tell me, or use the safe word. And of course tap my leg if you need air or anything" your boyfriend says as his hand goes to cup your cheek and wipe your tear with his thumb. "Mhm, I know" you giggle. He leans down to give you a proper kiss before going back to what yous are doing. "Ready?" He asks and you hum, signalling that you're ready to continue.

You wrap your mouth around his cock again and he jolts at the sudden feeling. "Fuck" he moans and puts his hand back onto your hair. "Still want me to fuck your throat, princess?" He asks you which you hum and nod to, wanting him to fuck your mouth. "Okay" he says before pushing your head down again and thrusting his hips up. By now he's so close. His thrusts being more rough than at first as he tries to chase his high. He's still being careful with you since he doesn't want to hurt you.

"Gonna make me cum, princess...fuck" he let's out a shaky moan and God...he looks so hot like this. His head thrown back and his Adams apple bopping up and down when his dick goes deep onto your throat. His pretty plump lips parted and letting out pretty moans that sound like music to your ears. You wanna make him feel even better so you bring one of your hands to his balls. Lightly massaging them which makes him even more vocal.

"Shit baby...I'm so...so fucking close, fuck" He moans and pulls you off gently from his cock, he goes to wrap his own hand around himself but you beat him to it, your hand wrapping around him instead. You point his tip at your parted mouth, ready to catch his cum on your tongue. "Want your cum hoon" you say as you look at him and he cums right after hearing your pretty voice, you sound so ruined already and yous haven't even properly started yet.

His cum hits your tongue and fills up your mouth. You moan out and close your eyes when you feel his load at first. "Fuck, love...so good" his eyes roll back as you have him ride out his high on your hand. You look up at him and meet his pretty eyes. Your mouth closed now but you didn't swallow anything just yet. You move up to him and cup his face with one of your small hands, bringing him into an open mouthed kiss, having him taste his own cum as it goes into his mouth. He moans at the taste. This is so dirty but you both love it so much.

"So fucking hot" he says after swallowing his own cum. "You're so dirty" you tease him "says the one who done the action" he says, referring to what you just done. You roll your eyes playfully. "Oh? Thought you said you'll be good now, no?" He smirks, teasing you. Your eyes widen and you look back at him "you can't tease me anymore, please" you whine. "Cutie~ I won't. Lie down for me" he says and gives you a quick kiss.

You go to lie down on your back and he positions himself in between your legs, puts his tip against your entrance before pushing himself fully in. "Gonna fuck you so good, I promise" Sunghoon says and leans in to give you a passionate kiss, his both hands holding himself up to not collapse on your small figure. He slowly starts to move but not in a teasing way again. He picks his pace up and moans at the overstimulation, but he wants to fuck you and make you feel good after how good you made him feel. Plus he likes the overstimulation.

"My pretty kitten" he pulls away from the kiss and latches his mouth onto you neck, marking you up as his, completely claiming you. He pulls his cock almost completely out before slamming back into you, making you let out a high pitched moan. "Fuck, hoon" you throw your head back, giving him more access to you neck.

His hips are so rough and you love it so much. You know for a fact you're not gonna last with how good he's fucking you now. Especially after all the teasing. "Call me what you did before" he whispers into your ear, his voice going deeper again and its making your head spin. "Daddy~" you moan out and he groan against your neck.

You smirk at the fact that he likes the name so much, however that smirk washes away with a hard thrust of his. "Daddy is fucking me feel so good, please~" He's pretty much going insane with how you call him that. He loves it so fucking much and it shows with how much faster and more rough he gets with his thrusts.

"Please what?" He pulls away from your marked neck to look at you with hooded eyes. You don't answer him, too lost in how good he's making you feel. Your hands going up to his biceps and digging your nails into him which makes him moan, loving the painful feeling. "Too fucking dumb to answer me, slut?" He smirks. He gives you four particular hard thrusts before stopping with his cock fully pushed against your sweet spot, making you cry from how good it all feels.

"Not gonna answer your daddy?" He says as he pushes even further into you which you didn't think was possible. It makes your back arch and has you scratching down at his biceps. "Fuck, daddy's making me feel so good...please" you look at his with glossy eyes. "Cute. Daddy's good girl~" He praises before starting to thrust again, making you let more high pitched moans.

He ends up looking down at where his cock is filling you up. That's when he notices the bump in your tummy and he swears, he almost looses it completely at the sight. "Fuck, kitten" he gives you another hard thrust and you notice he's looking down, you follow his eyes down and see the bump. "Oh my god" you moan out and roll your eyes back.

"You're so fucking deep in me, daddy" you moan out and he smirks. "Filling my kitten up so good, hmm?" He says as he continues to fuck you nice and rough. One of his hands goes to your boob and plays with your sensitive nipple, making your back arch at the stimulation. You feel your high slowly approaching. "Sir-" You moan out, switching up the names which he doesn't mind. He loves both.

"Want you to breed me, please" you say, looking up at him. "Yeah? Want daddy to breed you~ bet you'd look so fucking pretty, my cum filling you up so good it's dripping out of you~ my pretty cum slut~" He continues to dirty talk you and it only brings you closer to your orgasm.

"Please!! Need it, please. Want is so fucking bad, daddy" you sound so needy and he loves ever bit of it. "You close, love?" He asks and you nod. "I'm close too, cum with me~" He tells you and you cum with him. His cum filling you up to the brim and he feels your walls tighten around him, pretty much milking him dry. "My good girl" he moans as he rides out both of your highs before almost collapsing on you.

Your arms move up to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer as if he isn't in you already. He rests his body on yours as you let him. "Happy birthday, my princess" He says softly as he kisses your neck gently. You smile at his words.

Taglist: @hee-poster @ness-iness @fairyofjaeyun @foxdaisy @mysoob @parkhonnie @heexseung

[firewolf111]

Hello!

I've had a fanfic idea in my head for a while, but have been struggling to find the motivation to write, especially since this idea would be a long form fic and I usually write oneshots. I have a bit of an all or nothing mindset, so convincing myself to work on a project I can't finish in one sitting is really hard. So I figured why not try a notes thing.

(Not sure why I'm trying since only my sanders sides ship posts seem to get any attention, but may as well)

So...

For every 5 notes this post gets, I'll write for 15 minutes. Every 10 notes I'll write for the 15 minutes and post a small blurb to keep myself accountable.

If we somehow get to 100 notes, I'll up it to 30 minutes.

Let's go over some basics for the fic so you know whether you want to root for me to write it or not.

It's a Hermitcraft fic. Although it is kinda, slightly a life series cross-over (the summary will make this make sense.

It would technically be Mumbo centric, but it would have scenes from multiple of the Hermits pov.

Sound interesting?

Here's the summary:

The life game was over. Mumbo knew that for a fact. Yet a part of him feels trapped there. Nightmares and paranoia have become a frequent experience for him. But it was just a game. He wasn't going to ruin his friends' fun just because he couldn't handle a little bloodshed. Besides, the game was over. This was Hermitcraft. Hermitcraft was a safe server.

Except... the server is safe. But the players aren't.

Most viruses and parasites that could potentially latch on to a player are normally large enough to be detected by the many firewalls and anti-virus programs Hermircraft has set up. Any of them small enough to slip past are too weak to attach to the players. Or normally they are. But Mumbo hasn't been doing too well.

Why would the Hermits think to check? Surely, if one of them was feeling bad enough that a virus could latch onto and feed off of to grow stronger, then obviously, they would reach out for help. Except he didn't.

And now the virus has grown too strong.

What happens when the virus gives Mumbo the ability to alter the server's code?

Well... he already feels like he is trapped in the life game. So why not bring it to life?

Let the games continue.

(Well, that summary got away from me. I might later make a better one.)

But anyways, if that sounds like a fic you may enjoy, send some notes. Comment, reblog it, tag your mutuals who you think might like it. Do whatever to peer pressure me onto writing this (otherwise, the idea will probably rot away in my brain).

Just preferably keep it to 5 notes a person.