#let the fire inside fuel you to rise up

[hill-y]

You want me to look at you but my gaze is set on what's above.

[rafecameronssl4t]

I need to see reader calming Rafe down during a meltdown in a match and maybe she’s being firm and like telling him to stop and listen to her and to calm down and he shuts up because reader can get scary when mad lol 😂

Fault lines || Tennis player!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: wag!reader stands on business 😙

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,441

MASTERLIST (tennis player!rafe au masterlist)

The sun hung heavy over Sydney’s Ken Rosewall Arena, and the crowd’s energy buzzed like static electricity. Team USA’s match in the United Cup had been one of the most anticipated games of the tournament, but all eyes were on Rafe Cameron. Not just because he was one of the best players on the circuit, but because his temper had become almost as famous as his forehand.

Today, the storm brewing inside Rafe was palpable. He was down a set and struggling to keep up in the second. The opponent, an unseeded underdog from Russia, was playing like a man possessed, returning every shot with precision that only fueled Rafe’s growing frustration. The boiling point came during a controversial call.

“Are you serious? That was in!” Rafe shouted, his voice echoing across the court. The crowd’s murmurs turned to gasps. His face was red with anger as his hands rest on his hips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The chair umpire remained stoic, unmoved by the outburst. “Out. No let, Mr. Cameron,” the umpire announced, his calm voice doing nothing to quell the fire in Rafe’s eyes.

Rafe strode to the net, pointing furiously at the spot where he was convinced the ball had landed. “Are you blind? It literally hit the fucking line!” The umpire’s expression didn’t falter. “Warning for Mr. Cameron, please return to your position.” Rafe’s jaw clenched, his grip on the racquet so tight his knuckles turned white. “This is bullshit!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he stormed toward the baseline.

With unrestrained fury, he slammed the racquet against the ground—once, twice, three times—until a deafening fourth strike splintered it into shards of graphite. The crowd gasped collectively, shock rippling through the stands as fragments scattered across the court. “Unbelievable!” Rafe yelled, tossing the mangled remains aside before stalking toward the Team USA bench, his frame vibrating with unspent anger.

His teammates and coach looked uneasy, unsure whether to intervene or let him vent. In the vip seats behind Team USA’s area, you sat with your arms crossed, your sharp gaze fixed on Rafe’s theatrics. Rafe threw himself onto the bench, oblivious to the camera following him as he mutters curses under his breath, ripping open a new racquet from his bag, his jaw clenched so tightly.

From your vantage point, you leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier in front of you. You could feel the heat of his frustration from where you sat, and you knew he needed someone to pull him out of his spiral before he self-destructed.“Rafe!” you called down, your voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd and the chaos on court. He looked up, his brow furrowed, still fuming. “What?”

You didn’t flinch, meeting his glare with the same intensity. “You need to calm down. Right now.” His lips curled into a frustrated sneer. “Are you serious right now? Did you see that call? It was bullshit!” “I don’t care about the call,” you snapped, your tone sharper than the sun’s glare. “You’re embarrassing yourself. Stop acting like a child.”

Rafe blinked, letting out an exhale. The crowd had gone quiet, all eyes were on the exchange. Even the cameras were trained on the two of you, capturing every moment of the heated conversation. “I’m not—” he started, but you cut him off. “Be the bigger person,” you demanded, your voice low but commanding.

“Do you think smashing your racquet and yelling at the umpire is going to change the call? Get your head in the game.” Rafe leaned closer, his voice lowered but still defiant. “You don’t get it. That point—” “I do get it,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes. “What I don’t get is why you’re wasting energy on this instead of focusing on winning.”

“And now you’re handing the momentum to him on a silver platter,” you shot back, your voice firm but quiet. “Do you think your opponent cares about the call? He’s focusing on the next point while you’re sitting here sulking like a brat.” His jaw worked as he struggled to find a retort, but before he could, you leaned in even closer.

“Screw your head back in, Rafe,” you hissed, your words like ice water on a fire. “And get back out there. Now.” The way you said it left no room for argument. He stared at you, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly as your words sank in. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re really not letting me off the hook, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you replied, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on his. “Now shut up, get your head in the game, and play like the champion I know you are.” A flicker of something—respect, maybe even a little fear—crossed his face. He nodded, more to himself than to you, before standing and grabbing his racquet.

As he walked back onto the court, he glanced back at you over his shoulder. You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to argue again. He didn’t. The crowd began murmuring again, their attention shifting back to the match. But you stayed still, arms crossed, shaking your head in exasperation. The cameras, however, lingered on you for a few more seconds, capturing your unimpressed expression as Rafe got into position to serve.

The commentators couldn’t resist. “Well, that was quite the reaction from Y/n,” one said, chuckling. “I don’t think Rafe’s girlfriend approved of that outburst,” the other added. “And who could blame her? That’s another fine coming his way.” The match resumed, and while Rafe’s temper was still simmering beneath the surface, your words seemed to have had the desired effect.

He channeled his frustration into his game, hitting with renewed focus and precision. Each shot landed with a ferocity that made the crowd gasp, and slowly but surely, he clawed his way back into the set. When he finally won the second set in a tiebreak, the crowd erupted into cheers. Rafe allowed himself a small smile, glancing toward your seat in the stands.

The third set was a masterclass. Rafe played like a man possessed, leaving no room for error. By the time he won the match with a blistering ace, the crowd was on its feet, applauding his comeback. As the players shook hands at the net, the commentators couldn’t help but bring up the earlier exchange.

“Well, it looks like Rafe Cameron had some help keeping his cool today,” one of them quipped. “I’d say his girlfriend’s pep talk worked wonders.” Back on the sidelines, Rafe grabbed his bag and towel, his eyes landing on you. When he reached you, he leaned against the barrier, his expression a mix of sheepishness and irritation. “Happy now?” he asked, his tone teasing but softer than before.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ll be happy when you stop smashing racquets.” “Fair,” he admitted, glancing down at the broken one still lying near the bench. “I guess I owe you for that.” “You owe me a lot more than that,” you replied, your smirk turning into a genuine smile.

As the crowd began to disperse, you sat back in your seat, finally allowing yourself a small smile. Rafe might be a handful, but if anyone could handle him, it was you. And judging by the camera footage that was already going viral, the world was quickly realising the same thing.

[shinebyeoli]

Our Pretty Baby

☆PAIRING: Classmate! Mingi x Classmate! Yunho x Y/N

☆GENRE: smut, fluff (at the end) 18+

☆WARNINGS: threesome, smut, dicking down, anal, pet names (peach, pup, baby, love), moaning, swearing, dirty talk, size kink, stomach bulge kink, ect.

☆A/N: first time writing on tumblr😛 prolly more warnings idk.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the occasional rustle of fabric. Yunho lay flat on his back, his head propped slightly on the pillow, his dark eyes fixed on you. His hands rested lightly on your waist as you straddled him, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips.  

Behind you, Mingi’s presence was impossible to ignore. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, warm and steady, as his hands gently settled on your hips, framing you between them. The weight of his touch made your pulse race, and the teasing grin you caught in Yunho’s gaze only fueled the heat rising in your chest.  

Yunho's fingers flexed slightly against your sides, pulling you down just enough that you could feel the tension radiating from him. “You’re so quiet now,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement. “Not going shy on us, are you?”  

Before you could respond, Mingi’s low chuckle rumbled behind you, and his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Don’t let him get to you,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper. “We’re just getting started.”  

Yunho’s lips moved against yours with a soft but commanding rhythm, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. The kiss deepened, drawing a quiet gasp from you, and the sound sent a shiver through him. His fingers flexed on your waist, pulling you closer, until you were pressed flush against him.  

Behind you, Mingi’s hands were everywhere—tracing your sides, brushing your hair aside so his lips could find the curve of your neck. Each press of his mouth was deliberate, a contrast to Yunho’s steady intensity. You tilted your head instinctively, giving him more access, and his low hum of approval vibrated against your skin.  

“You’re so perfect like this,” Mingi murmured, his voice soft but laced with heat. His hands slid down to your thighs, gripping just enough to make your breath hitch.  

Yunho pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching yours. “Look at you,” he said, his voice quiet but full of admiration. “Are you sure you’re ready for us?”  

The question hung in the air for a moment, the weight of their attention making your pulse race. You nodded, words escaping you, but the fire in their gazes made it clear they needed no further encouragement.  

Your breath caught as you looked between them, your heart pounding in your chest. Yunho’s steady gaze held you in place, his question lingering in your mind. Behind you, Mingi’s warm hands grounded you, his lips brushing against your neck like a silent reassurance.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice soft but sure. Your hands settled on Yunho’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. “I want this. I want… both of you.”

The moment hung in the air, electric and unspoken, before Yunho’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. Behind you, Mingi chuckled low, the sound wrapping around you like a promise.

Before you knew it, both boys were already deep inside of you. Mingis cock was in your ass while Yunhos was in your slick cunt. They were both big.. way bigger and longer than you thought. Your moans went straight into their ears of how you took them, but they made their lengths fit.

They started thrusting at a fast pace, already knowing you could AND would take it no matter what. “Oh- oh fuck.. s- so full” you whine out not caring if the other dorms heard. “You can take it, peach.. fuck, so tight..” yunho grunts out as he pounds your pussy. 

“Good little slut.. such a g- good puppy, taking my cock in your fucking ass and yuns cock in your tiny little pussy..” mingi was more of a dirty talker.. he loved to whisper in your ear making you more whiny.. his fingers were rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, min.. i can see my dick pounding through her stomach” you tried to look down, as yoy were in doggy style between the two.. it was true. Yunhos length was showing through and it was so hot. “Oh shit!- g- gonna cum.. oh-“ you whine and pant, gripping the sheet. You all three came together�� the mens cum dripped out of your precious cunt as they pulled out.

“Our puppy’s dripping our seed, hyung..”

The room was filled with the hushed whispers and the sound of ragged breaths as Yunho and Mingi watched you with hungry eyes. Yunho's arms reached out to you, his hands sliding over your body, igniting a shiver of pleasure. They werent done with you. They quickly switched positions.  Mingi laid on the bed, you hovered over his face. Yunho was sitting against the headboard.

“D- dont wanna crush you min..” you were always worried if you rode their face, you would suffocate them.. “you wont baby.. trust me.” Mingi kissed the inside of your thigh.. 

Next thing you knew, you were grinding on mingis face, his nose right against your throbbing clit and his tongue working against your sticky folds.. you couldn’t even take a breath before yunho started thrusting in your mouth, loving the way you fucking deep throated him.

“Oh~ oh peach.. our good little cockslut..” the older boy couldnt keep his moans in. as mingi was eating you out, he started jerking off.. his balls slapping against his own thighs as he guided you. You have never been so pleasantly fucked before. The room was filled with gags, whines, whimpering, and moans..

“Mmmn.. good.. fuckin’ pussy” mingi mumbled through eating you out.. you were gonna cum and you couldnt take yunho in your throat anymore. Tears filled your eyes

“Fuck. Love, you can take it.. such a big penis in your throat huh? S- so close too..” yunho moaned out

“Mng.. gonna cum..” you moaned out.. “p- ple..” you gagged again as yunho shot his load into your mouth. You came all over mingid face and into his mouth as he shot his white strings into his hand.

———————————————

“You were so good, peachy.. so good for me and min..” yunho held you ad the three of you bathed together.

“I- i love you guys..” you mumbled 

“We love you more pup.. youre ours now. Always and forever” mingi said as he kissed you and yunho

“Our pretty baby…”

[valkyriexo]

HEART OF HATE | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; bf chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI,Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering,arguments, mentions of hate. manipulative chan. veryyyyy toxic chan. use of 'slut', 'good girl' , hair pulling, gagging, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact This chan is not a very good person read at your own risk!

ᑉ³Authors Note; Part or kinktober collab with @dandelions-143 Kinktober masterlist

The air crackles with tension as you and Chan face off, hearts racing and voices tight with anger. You can’t believe this is where your relationship has led, but here you are, standing in the middle of the bedroom, emotions on a razor’s edge.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were hanging out with her?" you snap, your voice shaking with rage. The words taste bitter on your tongue, every syllable laced with the resentment that’s been building for weeks. "I had to hear it from someone else—again. "

Chan’s face tightens, but you don't let up, the fury burning through you too strong to stop. "I trusted you. I trusted you, and you’re sneaking around with her of all people? I can’t even trust what you’re doing when I’m not around! How many times are you going to sneak around with her behind my back?"

“You’re blowing this out of proportion—”

"No, I’m not," you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice growing louder. "I’m not stupid, Chan. This isn’t the first time! You’ve been sneaking around with her, and you expect me to believe it’s just innocent?”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening defensively. “Because she's just a friend. Why can’t you get that through your head?"

“A friend?” you scoff bitterly, your laugh sharp and cold. “If she’s just a friend, why hide it? Why let me find out from someone else, like I’m the outsider in my own relationship?” Your voice wavers, caught between the anger and the hurt threatening to choke you. "Do you even hear yourself? How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

"I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this!” He replies bitterly.

Your heart pounds as disbelief courses through you, the fury bubbling up again. "You’re hanging out with her behind my back, keeping it a secret, and you think I’m overreacting?"

The hurt laces through your words, but the anger is stronger. "If it’s so innocent, why lie? Why not just tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t care that you’re sneaking off with her when you know I don’t trust her?"

Chan’s expression hardens. “She’s just my friend. You’re reading into this way too much.”

"Then why are you keeping it from me?" you fire back, eyes narrowing. "Friends don’t have to sneak around, Chan. You’re hiding it because you know it’s wrong. You knew how I’d feel, and you did it anyway."

Your voice cracks, the betrayal cutting deep. "What am I supposed to think? That you just happened to forget to mention her every time you sneak off to see her?"

The room is thick with silence as you stare him down, the weight of everything he hasn’t said, everything he’s been hiding, hanging heavy between you. Chan’s eyes flicker with guilt, but his jaw tightens, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. “It’s not like that—” he starts, but you cut him off, your voice raw and trembling.

“Not like what?!” you snap, your heart pounding so hard it’s all you can hear. “You always have some excuse, don’t you? ‘It’s not like that.’ ‘You’re overreacting.’ But I’m done with your lies!”

“I’m tired of being the last one to know,” you continue, voice rising. “Do you even care about how this feels? Do you even care about us?”

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, but it only fuels your fury.

He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, look at you, making yourself the victim. It’s pathetic.”

The word stings, sharp and biting, like a slap across the face. Your chest tightens as you glare at him, trying to swallow the hurt, but it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

"Pathetic? Are you kidding me?" You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep some semblance of composure, but your voice shakes with the effort. "This isn’t about playing the victim, Chan. You keep dismissing my feelings like they’re nothing, like I don’t even matter."

“I can’t just stop hanging out with people because you have issues with them!” Chan snaps, his voice sharp, eyes blazing with frustration. “What, do you want me to check in with you every single time I see someone? I’m not your prisoner!”

Your anger flares, the heat of his words igniting something deeper in you. You can’t believe he’s twisting it like this.

“This isn’t about control or keeping tabs on you! It’s about being respectful of our relationship, of me!”

“You’re so self-absorbed! I can’t believe you’re trying to manipulate me into choosing between you and my friends!” Chan shouts, his voice rising to a near scream, the sharp edge of his anger cutting through the air.

I’m not trying to control you, Chan! I’m trying to communicate! I’m trying to get you to understand how this makes me feel, and you need to stop acting like I’m the problem here!”

His face twists, and when he speaks again, his words are venomous, each syllable laced with contempt. “Maybe if you weren’t so insecure, this wouldn’t even be an issue! It's exhausting, you know that? Always whining about how I should act, how I should feel, what I should do!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a raw, painful ache spreading through you as his words sink in. "Whining?" you echo, disbelief coloring your tone. "Is that what this is to you? I’m whining because I want to feel respected in our relationship?"

“All i'm saying is that if you can’t handle me having friends, then maybe you’re the one who needs to figure out what you want! I’m not going to tiptoe around your insecurities!” He glares at you, his frustration reaching a boiling point. “You’re impossible! I can’t keep catering to your ridiculous expectations!”

The words hang in the air, and for a split second, you hesitate, the weight of the situation crashing over you. But the anger is too strong, the pain too raw.

“Maybe we should just break up then!” you shout, the words searing through the room, a final, burning accusation. They slip out before you can stop them, and the moment they do, everything falls silent. You don’t even pause to consider the implications, the anger in your chest too all-consuming to hold back.

His expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of pain that flashes across his face, quickly masked by anger. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the words caught in his throat. The silence feels like a weight pressing down on you both.

"Fuck you! FUCK YOU CHAN. I’m tired of fighting for someone who doesn’t even care about my feelings!" You push forward, fueled by the heat of the moment. “Take all your things and go! I never want to see you again!”

His eyes widen, disbelief etched across his features. “You’re kicking me out of our house? Where am I supposed to go in the middle of the night?”

Your anger flares again, and you shoot back, “Go to her! Since you’re sneaking around with her anyway, I’m sure she’d love to have you!”

The accusation stings, and he glares at you, his voice rising. “This isn’t about her! You’re the one who’s making this a bigger deal than it is!”

“Then what is it about, Chan? You don’t care about me, and you don’t care how this feels! It’s all about you and your precious friends!”

“Stop trying to paint me as the villain,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It's not her fault youu dont trust me!"

“I’m the one who’s been honest with you!” you scream, the words spilling out in a desperate rush. “You’re the one sneaking around and lying! I hate this! I hate you! I hate everything about how you treat me, how you act like I’m the problem! I hate you for doing this to us!”

Chan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks taken aback, as if your words have struck him harder than any physical blow could. The heat of your anger hangs in the air, but now there’s something else—fear. Fear that he might lose you for good.

“Wait, stop,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter, almost pleading. “You don’t really mean that, do you? You can’t hate me!”

“GET OUT!” you scream, the words tearing from your throat like a wild animal escaping a cage. The intensity of your emotions threatens to consume you, leaving no room for mercy or second chances. “Get out! Just go!”

But before you can turn away, Chan strides forward, determination etched into his features. He grabs your arms, holding you in place as he looks deep into your eyes, desperation flooding his voice. “Look at me,” he demands, his gaze piercing through the fog of anger and hurt. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me anymore, and I’ll go.”

The world around you seems to blur, his grip grounding you even as your heart races. You want to scream, to push him away, but something in the intensity of his gaze keeps you rooted in place.

“Chan…” is all you manage to say.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you hate me, and I’ll leave. I'll leave you alone and I won't bother you anymore,” he repeats, his expression a mix of desperation and fear, as if he’s bracing himself for the worst.

You open your mouth, but the words are lodged in your throat, heavy and suffocating. “I-I...."

The truth is, despite everything that’s happened, you don’t truly hate him. You hate what he’s done, how he’s made you feel, but your heart still aches for him.

"I-... Chan please." You beg, hoping he would let up on his grip.

“Please, just tell me,” he pleads, his voice softer now, as if he can sense your struggle. He gets closer, his lips now centimeters away from your ear. You can feel his breath, warm and shaky.

“I...I....I can’t,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy between you both.

“Then what do you want?" he says quietly into your ear, his voice growling almost, a mix of desperation and determination. You can feel his warmth radiating against your skin, and he places a soft kiss on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It’s a gentle gesture, yet it carries an undercurrent of desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs again, his voice low and laced with urgency, lips brushing against your skin. With each word, his kisses trail down to your jaw, lingering there, tempting you to forget the hurt and the betrayal.

You can feel your resolve wavering. His proximity, the warmth of his body, the way he’s looking at you with such intensity makes your heart race for reasons you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Chan… this isn’t fair,” you breathe, trying to push him away, but he’s relentless, his kisses growing more insistent.

“Not fair?” he whispers against your skin, his lips moving closer to your mouth. “What’s not fair is you pushing me away when you know how I feel. You know I need you. I don’t want to lose you.”

You murmur, trying to regain control, but your voice carries no words as his lips hover just above yours, his breath mingling with yours.

Then, with a sudden rush of warmth, he kisses you—softly at first, a gentle brush that ignites the embers of longing within you. It’s a kiss filled with desperation.

The warmth of his mouth against yours sends shivers down your spine, drawing you in even as your mind screams to remember the hurt, the betrayal. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch igniting every nerve ending, making it harder to think.

“Chan…” you whisper against his lips, torn between the passion of the moment and the ache of your heart. But he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with an urgency that steals your breath, coaxing you to surrender.

His tongue finds its way past your lips, his taste filling your mouth, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. He kisses you with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

You should push him away, tell him no, but the heat of his kiss melts away the last remnants of your resistance, and before you know it, you find yourself giving in, your body responding to his touch, your desire matching his. He pulls off his shirt, his eyes still burning as he presses his lips against yours once again.

You can feel the hardness of his body against yours, the heat of his desire, and the promise of more, and sooner or later both your clothes were on the floor.

He pushed you back, your back thuding against the bed.

His kisses trail down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, lost in the sensations. His hands caress your body, sending waves of pleasure through you, as his lips explore every inch of exposed skin.

The ache inside you grows stronger, demanding to be sated, and you give in to it, letting the passion take over.

He pulls back, just for a moment, just long enough to look at you with such raw need that it takes your breath away. Then, he moves forward, his body covering yours, and your eyes close as you savor the feeling of his weight on top of you.

He kisses you again, and this time, there's no holding back. His hands trail down, moving lower, his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You let out a gasp, your body responding with pleasure.

Chan could sense your desire and quickly moved to satisfy it. He gently spread your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You let out a soft moan, your body arching towards him as he began to finger you.

"Oh, God," you moaned, his fingers expertly bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building inside you, his touch igniting every nerve ending, taking you higher and higher.

He kept his pace steady, his fingers moving in and out of you, the pleasure intensifying with every move.

"Yes, yes," you moaned, your body quivering, your climax nearing.

With one last thrust of his fingers, you came, your body shuddering with pleasure. Your moans fill the room, your release a release from the pent up emotions, from the pain and the hurt.

Chan barely gave you time to react when he flipped you over on all fours. He pressed his hands on your lower back and pulled your hair closer to him until his lips were right near your ear.

"You're mine, and don't you forget it." he whispers, his breath hot and heavy. You looked at his eyes reflected in the mirror that stood facing the bed.They were filled with lust, darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, and you bit your lip, anticipation building inside you. But instead of putting it in, he began to tease you, moving it in slow circles around your clit.

"Chan.. please.." you moaned.

"Please, what?" he replied sternly.

"I need you."

"Yeah? Beg for it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Beg for my cock, you little slut."

You glare at him. You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “No,” you say defiantly.

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg,” he repeats, his fingers tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, hating that your body betrays you like this. You want to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you can’t. You’re too caught up in the moment, in the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour you. He leans back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Fine,” he says, his voice dripping with disappointment. “If you won’t beg, then I won’t give you what you want.” You watch as he releases your hair, causing you to fall foward a bit.

"Wait..p-please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Please, fuck me."

"Sorry, come again?" he says.

You clench your fists, hating that you're begging him, but you're so fucking horny. You need his cock inside you, filling you up, making you scream with pleasure. "Please, Chan, I'm begging you. Please, fuck me."

He shakes his head and grabs you again, resuming your previous position, his cock brushing against your clit again, making you gasp. "No, not yet. You need to beg some more."

You whimper, your body trembling. "Please, Chan, I'll do anything. Just fuck me already."

He chuckles, his fingers tracing your nipples, making them harden. "Anything, huh?"

He continues to tease you, his cock brushing against your clit, his fingers playing with your nipples. You're begging him, pleading with him to fuck you, but he's not listening. He's enjoying this too much, and you hate him for it.

But at the same time, you love it. You love the way he's making you feel, the way he's making your body respond to his touch.

"Please, Chan, I can't take it anymore," you gasp, your body trembling with need. "Please, fuck me."

He finally relents, his cock sliding inside you.

He started thrusting, each stroke hitting you deeper and deeper, the pleasure bordering on pain. You could see your reflection in the mirror, your face contorting in pleasure, slowly getting more...

and more ...

and more utterly fucked out.

You watched as your body arched and quivered, and the sight sent another wave of pleasure through you, intensifying the sensations. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You're fucking mine, understand?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure overtaking you, rendering you unable to form words. His thrusts became faster, harder, his cock reaching places you didn't even know existed.

You moaned out, shutting your eyes as you were unable to hold back, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Look at yourself, baby." he growls, his hand tightening in your hair. When Chan saw no reaction from you, he spoke again.

“Be a good girl and keep eye contact with me.” He said, lifting your chin up so you could meet the dirty image plastered in the mirror once again. You opened your eyes and your reflection looked back at you, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes hazy with lust.

You looked debauched, completely at his mercy, and you loved it. Fuck, you tightened even more with that realization.

Chan grunted, picking up the pace, fucking you harder and deeper, your cunt clenching more and more around him.

"You hate me? Are you sure? Your body tells me a different story." He said as his hips slamming into you, and you could feel the pressure building again, the pleasure intensifying.

He grunted, his movements growing erratic, and you knew he was close. "Say it," he growled, his voice laced with desire. "Say you hate me"

"I- I- I ha-ha," you breathed, your body quivering, the pleasure nearing its peak.

"Say it." he commanded, his thrusts hitting you even harder.

"I-I h-hate you," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips. He began to pound you even harder.

"Again!"

"I- I hate you. Oh, God, I hate you so much," you cried, the words spilling from your lips, your body teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

" Fucking slut. You can't resist me even if you say you hate me. Can't resist my dick inside you, can you?"

Your body shook with pleasure, and then you were coming again, the orgasm tearing through you, your cries filling the room.

And then, just as you thought it was over, his hand grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, and he pushed his cock into your mouth.

You gagged, the sudden intrusion nearly overwhelming, but the pleasure was too much, and soon, you found yourself giving in, the feeling of his cock filling your mouth, the taste of his precum sending shivers of pleasure through you. "Tell me you hate me now, huh"

You moaned, the words muffled by his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the heat and the taste and the feel of him too much to resist.

And then, he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth, his cum filling you, the taste of it salty and sweet and everything you needed.

You swallowed, his cum dripping down your chin, the taste of it lingering on your tongue. You felt exhausted, drained, yet somehow satisfied, the pain and the hurt replaced by something else.

And as he pulled out, the last traces of his release spilling onto your lips, you knew that despite everything, despite the betrayal and the lies, there was still something between you, something stronger than the pain and the anger.

"Chan-"

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue probing into your mouth. You kissed him back, your body responding to his touch, the pain and the hurt giving way to desire once again.

As your lips moved together, the intensity began to shift. It softened, the anger fading as something deeper, something raw and vulnerable, took its place. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as the room fell into a quiet, charged silence.

"I’m sorry," you whispered first, the words trembling on your lips. "I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t hate you, Chan… I could never hate you. I was just—" You paused, your voice thick with emotion, your chest aching. "I was so hurt, Chan.."

Chan’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were starting to fall. “No, don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his own voice breaking slightly. “I deserved that. I didn’t tell you about her because… because I didn’t want to deal with what I knew it would do to us. I was selfish.”

Chan sighed, his eyes softening as he looked at you, the weight of his own regret heavy in the air. “I know you didn’t mean it. But I also know I gave you every reason to feel that way. I should’ve been honest. I should’ve trusted you with the truth instead of making you feel like you had to find out on your own.”

You bit your lip, the words still caught in your throat, but you forced them out. "I felt so betrayed, Chan. But it wasn’t just because of her. It was because you didn’t trust me enough to handle the truth."

His face twisted with regret, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right. I didn’t trust you, and I’m so sorry for that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us, but I only ended up hurting you more.”

You could see the remorse in his eyes, and it broke your heart to know that both of you had let things get this far. You reached up, your hand resting against his cheek as you searched his gaze. “I don’t want to fight like this. I don’t want to hurt each other.”

Chan leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment as he sighed deeply. “Neither do I. I don’t want to lose you because of my mistakes.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered. “But we can’t keep hiding things from each other. If we’re going to move forward… we have to be honest.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise, no more secrets. I’ll be better. I’ll be the person you deserve.”

You nodded, the heaviness in the room starting to lift, replaced by something more fragile, but real. “I’ll be better too,” you whispered, your voice full of sincerity. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them."

Chan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips brushing gently against your forehead in a silent apology. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words raw and filled with everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

"I love you too," you breathed, your heart full of both pain and hope.

In that moment, you both knew that there was still a lot to work through, but there was also a chance—a chance to heal, to rebuild. And despite everything, you wanted to try.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

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[trashytracktales]

girl reading your logan fic right before my period is doing things to MEEE!! istg I’m desperate. i want to reality shift just to have logan in my bedroom 😔💔

ANYWHO

you could say I’m feeling….freakilicious and i have some smut brainworms…

logan coming back home after a gymsesh all sweaty to find reader sleepy and eventually wake her up w head and body worshipping kisses and praise….and then letting whiny reader cum on his fingers while his hair messily hangs in front of his eyes 🤤🤤🤤 and then sex before just sweet aftercare and a gentle shower 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

(if you’re open to writing things like that)

Early sessions | LS²

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Reading anything remotely spicy before your period is like pouring gasoline on an already raging fire... God’s strongest soldier, I reckon. Hope this helps, and sorry for the late response 😔🤞🏻

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𐙚 summary ──── Early gym sessions only fuel Logan’s energy, and when he returns home to his girlfriend, sweaty and full of adrenaline, things can only go one way — his.

𐙚 pairing ──── Logan Sargeant x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, mild possessive behavior, overstimulation, playful dynamics.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.1k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 9, 2025

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LOGAN’S MORNING WAS quiet so far.

Now, coming back home from training, the sun is just beginning to rise, casting warm streaks of amber light across the polished floors. He always liked the early sessions, when the world was still asleep, and he was the only one sweating at the gym.

His shirt clings to him, soaked with the result of his efforts, and his hair is damp, curling slightly at the ends from sweat. Dropping his keys onto the counter with a soft clink, he toes off his sneakers and heads straight for the bedroom.

Inside, she is still curled up beneath the sheets, her soft breaths barely audible in the stillness. She’s cocooned in the blanket, one bare shoulder peeking out, the gentle rise and fall of her chest confirming she’s lost in her dreams. Logan leans against the doorway for a moment, his chest tightening with a quiet kind of affection; this is his favorite sight.

Logan’s steps are careful as he approaches, the slight creak of the floorboard causing her to stir just a little. He pulls off his damp shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket, running a hand through his messy hair. Cold sweat still clings to his skin, his muscles taut, but he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is her, the way the shy golden light of the morning caresses her skin.

He knows he should go shower, but a tiny thought crosses his mind before he can do anything about it.

Kneeling at the edge of the bed, Logan leans over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She doesn’t stir, her lips parting slightly. He smiles, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to her temple, then to her cheek, and finally to the corner of her mouth. The kisses are tender, each one awakening the fire inside him.

Her breathing shifts, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips as she begins to stir. “Lo? You leaving already?” she asks, her voice laced with confusion and sleep.

In response, his lips trail down her neck, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her collarbone, then lower. The blanket slips down as his hands work to uncover her, his fingers skimming over her bare skin, reverent and calculated.

“No, baby,” he murmurs against her skin, his lips brushing over the curve of her breast. “I just got back.”

“Mhm,” she hums, extending her arms to pull him closer to her, embracing him tightly. “Come here, then, stinky boy.”

He chuckles as he gets up to head toward the bathroom, her teasing voice still ringing in his ears.

“Stinky boy is going to shower first,” says Logan.

But before he can take another step, her hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He glances back at her, eyebrows raised, but she just tugs him gently toward the bed, her lips curving into a playful smile.

“Did I say I mind?” she asks, her tone soft but laced with intent.

Logan blinks in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face as she pulls him down onto the bed. “Oh? Guess not,” he rasps, his voice dropping as he leans in closer.

His large, calloused hands start caressing her sides, mapping every curve with devotion as he leans back in to kiss her neck.

“How was, uh, training?” she whines softly, a hint of need lacing her tone.

Logan hums, the sound low and warm, vibrating against her skin. “Missed you,” he confesses, his voice a little more ragged now. “I skipped cardio so I can come back faster.”

“Oh no,” she replies in a bad, dramatic voice, pulling back to look at him, “You should never skip cardio. What kind of example are you setting?”

Logan laughs, his voice playful. “Think you could help me make up for it?”

Her mock outrage melts into a knowing smile, her fingers threading through his hair. She nods slowly, her voice turning softer. “Of course... but only because I’m so generous.”

Her eyes meet Logan’s gaze as he looks down at her, his hair hanging in messy strands over his forehead. For a moment, they just look at each other, her body pliant beneath his touch as his hands skim lower.

“There goes my generous girl,” he praises gently, his voice melting into her as his fingers slide between her legs, parting her folds. He groans softly at the wetness that meets him, the ultimate proof of how much she wants him even in her half-asleep state. “Let’s see just how much.”

“Lo…gan,” her voice breaks as his thumb finds her clit, circling tenderly, sending sparks shooting through her body.

“Yeah? That good, baby?” he soothes, pressing a kiss to her hip.

As a response, her thighs part easily for him, as if her body knows this rhythm instinctively. She’s already so wet it’s obscene, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with almost no resistance. It’s as if he hadn’t fucked her senseless the night before, leaving her trembling and spent in their bed.

“Look at you,” Logan whispers, his breath warm against her skin. His middle finger slips inside her effortlessly, drawing a low, broken moan from her lips. He works her open by patiently curling his finger in just the right way that has her hips rocking up into him.

“More…” she whines, her voice a desperate plea, her nails digging into his damp shoulder. His natural scent is immediately invading her senses, driving her insane.

“More,” he parrots, adding another finger, the stretch making her moan a little louder. “Obsessed with those sounds, baby. But it’s not what you want, is it?”

The wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her mix with the soft cries spilling from her mouth. She clenches tightly around him, her walls fluttering as his thumb grazes her clit in a teasing circle. Her hips grind against his hand, her movements wild and needy, chasing every ounce of pleasure he’s giving her.

“Please, Logan,” she cries, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as his tongue replaces his thumb, lapping hungrily at her swollen clit.

Her cries only spur him on, the way she tightens her thighs around his head and tugs at his hair sending jolts of heat straight to his cock. He’s already rock hard, his cock straining against his gym shorts as the thought of fucking her warm, wet, and open body consumes him.

“Fuck, you always taste so good,” Logan mumbles against her, the vibrations of his voice making her thighs tremble. “I can’t get enough of you,” he continues, burying his face deeper into her, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue, driving her higher and higher.

“Oh my—Logan,” she moans, her voice breaking as her walls begin to tighten more rapidly around his fingers. The tension in her body coils tight, her thighs trembling and her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.

“Yes, baby. That’s it,” he praises, his words muffled against her. “Let me feel you.”

Her release crashes over her, her entire body shaking as her cries fill the room. Her walls squeeze his fingers in a vice-like grip, dripping onto his hand and his chin as she shatters beneath him.

He slows his movements gradually, his tongue and fingers easing her through the aftershocks. When she finally comes back to herself, he pulls back slightly, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His blue eyes lock on hers as he licks his fingers clean, dragging his tongue from base to tip, savoring every drop of her.

“Wanna taste?” asks Logan, offering his fingers.

Her cheeks flush, but she leans forward, wrapping her lips around their slickness. Her tongue swirls around as she cleans them thoroughly, her eyes never leaving his. The intimacy of the moment sends a bolt of heat straight through both of them, their breaths deep and alert.

Logan leans in, capturing her lips in a messy, desperate kiss at the sight of her. Their tongues meet, tasting her on each other, hot and needy, their movements unrestrained, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as she moans into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Logan sits back on his knees, freeing his cock from his shorts; it’s hard and aching, the tip leaking as he strokes himself briefly before lining up with her dripping entrance.

“Still feeling generous?” he asks against her lips, teasing her with shallow thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against her clit before slipping just barely inside.

“Yes… yes, very,” she replies impatiently.

Logan whimpers against her lips, the sound deep and guttural as he presses the head of his cock against her soaked entrance. With one deliberate thrust, he pushes inside, her walls stretching to welcome his length. He breathes heavily at the slick, wet heat of her, his body trembling with restraint as her sensitive pussy clenches around him from the lingering aftershocks of her first orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, as he drags himself out slowly, only to push back in, deeper this time. Her tightness grips him perfectly, and every thrust drags along her walls, making her whimper beneath him.

“So full, baby,” she gasps, her voice breathy. Her hands fly to his back, her nails raking across his skin as she clings to him, her body arching to meet every thrust. “Can you, mhm—harder.”

Something snaps inside him at her request. His fingers dig into her hips, lifting her slightly as he starts to move harder, his hips snapping into hers with a force that has her moaning loudly, the sound unabashed and desperate.

“Good enough?” he growls, his tone rough as he watches her fall apart beneath him.

“So good, baby. Don’t stop,” she cries, her nails digging deeper into his skin.

Without warning, Logan flips her onto her stomach, his strength effortless as he pulls her hips up. The shift leaves her breathless, her knees barely holding her up as he guides her into position. He presses a firm palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down into the pillows while angling her hips higher.

“Logan!” she cries in protest. “Don’t—”

“I take care of you, yeah?” Logan cuts her off. “Stay just like that,” he orders, his voice dripping with dominance, and she shivers at the command.

The first thrust from behind has her crying out, her body jolting forward from the force. He grips her waist tightly, pulling her back to meet his thrusts as he sets a punishing pace. The sound of their bodies colliding fills the room, wet and filthy, almost drowned out by her moans and his deep grunts.

“You feel so good,” Logan groans, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips, leaving bruises he knows she’ll find later. “So fucking good, baby. You were made for me, it’s maddening.”

Each thrust drives him deeper, his cock hitting spots inside her that have her wailing into the pillows. She can feel him everywhere — thick, hard, and raw as he claims her. The pressure builds again, her entire body tightening as her second orgasm crashes into her without warning.

“Fuck, yes,” she encourages, her walls clamping down around his length as her release soaks them both. “Logan, I—”

“Shit, baby... fuck. You’re dripping all over,” Logan growls, his eyes glued to the way her pussy clenches and pulses around his cock. The sight alone nearly undoes him, his lips parting as if in reverence for the obscene display before him.

He leans over her, his chest pressed to her back as his hand slips beneath her to circle her clit. “My girl,” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Best I’ve ever fucking had. I could stay inside you forever.”

Her body trembles under him, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure as he thrusts faster, his rhythm growing erratic. His fingers on her clit send her spiraling into overstimulation, her entire body shaking as her release gushes over him again.

“Wait. Lo, I’m—” she whimpers, her voice broken.

“It’s okay, baby. Take it all,” he growls, his hips slamming into her one last time as he spills deep inside her, his cock throbbing with his release. “Every fucking drop, beautiful.”

He stills, his body trembling as he collapses against her for a moment, their breathing heavy and uneven. When he pulls out, her pussy clenches one last time, and she comes again, her body betraying her exhaustion.

“Shit,” Logan swears, his voice thick with awe. He flips her over to face him, brushing damp hair from her face as she lies there trembling. “You’re so sensitive in the morning,” he realizes, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before slipping his fingers back inside her, collecting the mess they’ve made together. His touch is slow, tender, as if soothing her oversensitive body.

“Lo…” she whispers, her voice shaky as he leans down to kiss her again, this time soft and unhurried. His tongue slides against hers, their kisses messy and intimate as his fingers continue their slow worship.

“All mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she agrees, meeting his gaze as his words settle over her.

Logan’s chest swells, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he leans down, trailing his lips lower. He kisses along her jawline, down the delicate curve of her neck, and then stops to worship the swell of her breast. His tongue flicks out to trace one of her nipples, drawing a gasp from her as he sucks it gently into his mouth.

“You’re so perfect for me,” he murmurs between warm, wet kisses, his free hand coming up to squeeze her other breast. His thumb brushes over the sensitive peak, sending shivers down her spine. “Letting me fuck you out of your dreams.”

She arches into his touch, her fingers weaving into his hair as he lavishes her with affection. “I’ll always let you fuck me,” she replies, her voice breathy and sincere.

Her words ignite something primal in him, and he groans softly against her skin before lifting his head to capture her lips once more. The kiss is heated but tender, filled with unspoken promises. His tongue slides against hers, coaxing her into a rhythm that leaves them both breathless.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, breathing wetly above her.

She nods against him, her cheek pressed to the warmth of his skin. “More than okay.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head to look at her face. “You sure?” he presses gently, his thumb brushing over her shoulder.

She lifts her head to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “I promise. I… had a dream about you,” she admits, her voice shy.

His brows lift slightly, intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Hm? Care to elaborate?”

She lets out a soft laugh, her nose brushing against his collarbone as she burrows closer. “Not really. Just you. You were touching me, whispering all those things you say to me, and it felt so real. When I woke up and you were actually there, I guess my body just… responded.”

Logan whimpers quietly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “You’re making me jealous of Dream Logan,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She laughs again, her breath warm against his skin. “You should be. He was pretty amazing.”

Logan chuckles, his hand slipping lower to rest on the curve of her hip. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to outdo him,” he teases, his voice warm with affection.

Her laughter fades into a soft hum, and after a beat of silence, she lifts her head to look at him. “Maybe try that in the shower?”

Without giving her an answer, he scoops her up, making her squeal in surprise.

“Logan, I was joking! Put me down!” she protests, though she’s laughing.

He carries her straight into the bathroom, turning on the shower before stepping in with her still in his arms. The blast of cold water makes her yelp, squirming in his grasp. “It’s fucking freezing!” she squeaks, trying to shove him under the spray instead.

He holds her firm, grinning through her protests. “But it’s good for you.”

The water gradually warms, and she relaxes, a sigh escaping her lips as the heat soothes her skin. Logan sets her down gently, grabbing the soap with a soft smile. “Come on, turn around for me,” he speaks in a lower voice, the playfulness giving way to tenderness.

He starts at her neck, his soapy hands gliding over her skin with deliberate care. “Beautiful,” he whispers more to himself than to her. His hands move lower, massaging her shoulders before cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her peaks. She shivers under his touch, but he doesn’t linger, kneeling in front of her.

He continues, carefully washing between her legs, his touch gentle but thorough, his lips trailing kisses along her thighs as he does.

She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing at his reverence. “Lo,” she warns, her voice unsteady.

He looks up, his eyes smoldering. “Just making sure my girl is clean,” he teases before placing one last kiss on the inside of her thigh.

When it’s her turn, she takes her time, tracing her soapy hands over his chest and abs, her fingers lingering on the ridges of his muscles. “Good session,” she teases, grinning as she slides her hands down his back.

“My favorite workout,” he quips, his smirk returning.

“Wake me up tomorrow. Take me with you,” she suggests, circling around him on her tiptoes, her hands ghosting over his hips.

“No,” he replies shortly.

She stops, confused, “No?”

He shakes his head, “They have cameras everywhere. It’ll be pure torture.”

“I promise I’ll behave,” she teases further, her voice steady.

Logan turns quickly, pinning her gently against the cool tile wall, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss. The steam from the shower surrounds them, but it’s the heat between their bodies that consumes her. She feels him hard against her stomach, his need pressing into her.

“It’s not you I worry about.”

She pulls back just enough to palm him, her fingers wrapping around his length with a teasing squeeze. Logan hisses sharply, his head dropping against her shoulder.

“Turned from stinky boy into horny boy real quick,” she says with a grin, her hand beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm.

His breath catches, and he looks down at her hand before meeting her gaze, his eyes dark with pleasure. “I take that back. It’s you I worry about the most,” he groans, his voice rough, but the way his lips curl into a satisfied smile tells her he doesn’t mind at all.

PREVIOUS LS² ONE-SHOT

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© trashy track tales, 2025

[baigepueckers]

Caitlin Clark X Reader

Soft Whispers, Quiet Whimpers

It’s late when Caitlin walks through the door. The exhaustion from hours of grueling practice heavy on her shoulders. Her usual energy is dimmed replaced by fatigue, but when she sees you waiting for her…The weight of the day seems to lift slightly. Your soft smile and the warmth of your presence immediately start to unwind Cait’s stress.

“Rough day?” you ask your voice gentle but filled with something more.. a longing to comfort her. To take some of that weight off her shoulders. Caitlin exhales slowly, her body instinctively moving toward you and you open your arms to welcome her.

“Yeah, just… tired” she admits, her voice quiet the usual fire in her voice gone from exhaustion. You can see it in the way her posture slackens, the way her eyes are half lidded with weariness.

“Well, let me take care of you, baby” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Your hands glide down her arms, reassuring but purposeful. There’s a quiet desire rising within you…one that’s been simmering all day. A mix of longing and the need to feel your girl close. You’ve been craving the chance to help her unwind, but also to let your own growing desire take the lead.

You gently guide Caitlin to your shared bedroom your hands never leaving hers, keeping her close. Her exhaustion is obvious, but so is the pull between you something in her eyes screams of a need for release. It only drives your desire further. You sit Caitlin on the edge of the bed, your touch firm. The moment you’re in the bedroom, the air feels charged and you can hardly wait.

“You don’t have to do anything tonight” you whisper, your voice both sultry and soft. “Let me take care of you.”

Caitlin’s gaze flickers with gratitude but also with a spark of something else…something that tells you she’s far from uninterested. “I trust you babe” she murmurs, her voice shaky as she lets you guide her movements.

You kneel in front of her, your hands gliding up her thighs your breath catching at the softness of her skin. There’s no denying the heat building between you and the anticipation in the air is so thick that it makes your pulse race. You’re hungry for Caitlin in a way that’s different tonight…fueled by a desire deep inside you that has been building all day.

With your eyes locked you lean in and place a slow, gentle kiss to her collarbone…your lips lingering before moving up her neck. Caitlin lets out a soft moan the sound making your thigh clench. The fatigue in her body is still there but it’s beginning to fade, replaced by the slow heat of your touch. You can feel her breath quicken and you know that Caitlin is tired, but she’s also starting to crave more. The desire in the air grows heavier and more urgent.

You slip your hand beneath Caitlin’s shorts, gently pressing your thigh between her legs causing her to gasp softly. Despite her exhaustion her body instinctively responds to your touch, the tension in her muscles giving way to the feeling of you pressed to her core. The heat in your body rises as Caitlin’s soft whimpers fill the air, and you know that she’s feeling it too. Her own weariness melting away under your touch.

“Let go, Cait” you whisper your voice low, coaxing. You want to hear her voice, the sounds of her pleasure. Caitlin’s eyes flutter as she feels your thigh pressing up against her slowly, deliberately.

“Don’t hold back baby” you encourage softly, brushing your lips against her ear. “I want to hear you. Please.” Your voice husks out with desire, your hands steady but insistent.

Caitlin’s lips part with a soft moan, and you can see the way her body responds…her hips instinctively rocking forward against the pressure. The combination of her exhaustion and her body’s growing need for release makes her whimper louder her breathing shaky. You can feel her body rocking gently against you, the friction sending a rush of heat through your own body. The sound of Caitlin’s whimpers…her quiet cries of desire, drives you with longing. Every time she whines, it’s like music to your ears, a confirmation that she’s getting closer to breaking her control.

“Just like that” you murmur your voice thick with affection and lust. “You sound so beautiful for me… be a good girl and let go.”

Caitlin’s breathing becomes faster more erratic, and you can feel her body straining beneath you…wanting to give in but still holding back. Caught between exhaustion and the intense pleasure building inside her. Every time her breath hitches or her body shudders it only makes you want her more. You want to feel Caitlin unravel, to hear the sound of her pleasure without holding back.

Cait’s body gives way to the pressure, her hips bucking against your thigh as a deep breathless moan slips from her lips. “Y/N, please…” she whispers, the words slipping past her lips like a plea.

The sound of her voice fills the room, and you press your thigh deeper, urging her to let go completely. Caitlin’s body trembles as the sensation washes over her and her soft continuous whimpers spill out, more audible now and louder than before. She lets herself release her body shuddering beneath you, her voice rising in soft cries of pleasure.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch your girl, feeling every inch of your connection. Caitlin’s eyes are half-lidded, filled with bliss and exhaustion and her body goes limp as she clings to you, her breaths coming in short and shallow. You lean in brushing your lips against hers, the soft taste of her satisfaction lingering between you.

“You did so well” you murmur, your voice tender as you hold Cait close, rubbing small circles against her back. Caitlin’s eyes slowly open and she smiles softly, her body still buzzing from the release. “Thank you baby doll” she whispers her voice hoarse but full of gratitude.

You brush a strand of hair from her forehead, pressing a kiss there. “You don’t have to thank me,” you say with a soft smile. “I wanted to make you feel good.” You run your hands through Caitlin’s hair, watching the way her half lidded eyes lock onto yours, filled with affection and trust.

“I love you,” Caitlin murmurs, her voice thick with contentment.

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart full as you embrace in the quiet evening.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 30

(Che'nya is officially considered a Bakeneko, but he is actually half Bakeneko half Kitsune. He has an affinity for daydreams and and see what others are daydreaming about due to his Bakeneko heritage, including what the Human daydreams about. He does need to be close to his target to see what they are daydreaming about and there are rules to what a daydream specifically is that allows him to view them, but he typically doesn't share what he sees in the daydreams of others.)

Warnings: yandere, yandere relationships, yandere behavior, crimes committed and a price paid, Queendom of Roses visit start, mention of public execution, hurt/comfort, several guards are chosen for this event, Heavy weighs the title of the Last, Human artifacts, Harpies, Hellcat, Selkie, Sphinx, Dragon, Vampire bat, Nemean lion, Drider, Merfolk, Unicorn, Shinigami, Gnoll,

~~~~~~~~

"Good morning, my Little Bird."

Your eyes slowly opened to see the beaked mask of the Crow Headmage watching you closely, a smile on his lips and his eyes glowing in the darkness. The sudden appearance of the male made you almost scream before he shushed you gently and tried to keep you calm. It was nearing the end of the week and you likely were going to have to attend yet another Housewarden meeting to see who would be your guards for the next week.

"What are you doing in here? What time is it?"

"It is early. I wanted to talk with you before we have to meet with the students about your guards. This week is going to be different."

"Different compared to my ovulation or different overall?"

"Different over all."

Crowley sat on the edge of your nest and you sat up, rubbing at your eyes and trying to keep your movements limited so you don't wake Grim. The almost worried way Crowley spoke piqued your interest and you wondered why he was so unsettled. Something must have happened to make him change his behavior and be willing to wake you to speak with you about it.

Despite how much the Crow cooed over you and treated you like his child, he still respected your space more than most students and wouldn't do something so brash without reason. Even the collar- despite how much you disliked it at first- was done for a reason. Now you just needed to know what new hell your life would be facing.

"Get dressed, and we will discuss this downstairs. The other staff are already awake so we can talk about this."

You nodded and Crowley left to give you some time. As you were getting dressed, you vaguely wondered what happened to make such a change on your life and if it had anything to do with the past traumatic events you had already gone through. Surely it couldn't be more threats to remove you from NRC, but you wouldn't put it past the other countries to try and use Erikír's Overblot as more fuel for the fire.

You gathered the sleeping kit into your arms, letting him snuggle into his blanket and purr as you stroked the smooth gray fur. He didn't even rouse as you quietly made your way through the building and to where the staff awaited you in the main lounge area of the dorm. The sun had yet to rise and the staff all seemed rather groggy, most barely awake even as they drank their tea or sipped at their beverages.

Naturally, Divus was first to greet you with a sleepy smile, happy to see you join them and even made space for you to sit next to him. It was difficult to not see the Selkie as a kind of father figure given his protective behavior and gentle attitude towards you. Even Trein seemed like a grandparent given his attitude towards you and the other staff all seemed to fall in similar roles. A large disjointed found family that sought to protect and shield you was certainly not a bad thing by any stretch.

Trein set yet another cup of tea in front of you, the warm porcelain feeling nice on your hands. Even that first sip seemed to warm your insides and settle smoothly in your stomach.

"(Y/n), the Huoshu- the Rat- has been sentenced to death in the Queendom of Roses, and- as per their laws- you need to attend his execution. The representatives agreed to allow you to stay in Night Raven College so long as you make several visits to the various countries that are financing and supporting your wellbeing. Your visit to the Queendom will count as one of these pilgrimages."

"So I won't be here at school for this week then... What does that mean for guards?"

"You will have to choose several students to be your guards while you are away from Night Raven. The staff and I have agreed to allow these selected students to be exempt from schoolwork while they are with you and their guarding will count as full marks for any assignment they miss during this time."

"I choose them?"

Crowley nodded, his feathers slightly ruffled as if he didn't want any of these students to be tasked with your safety. Still, he had a school to run and he couldn't come with you while he was running the school. From the sounds of it, you wouldn't be able to take any of the professors with you on this trip at all.

"Yes. It would make no sense for you to be assigned guards if you do not feel safe with them around you, especially when you are somewhere new and don't know your way around."

"How many can I choose?"

"However many you would like, but I would rather a few Housewardens stay to ensure anarchy doesn't reign."

You sat in silence for a moment, busying yourself with the cup in front of you and trying to mentally parse out what was happening. Even on top of who you would choose- which you had several in mind- there was the question of what would be done with Grim during this time. Honestly, you didn't think he should have to see the execution as he was still so young and shouldn't be exposed to such things at such a tender age. However, if you left him at NRC, he would panic and enter a distressed state without you- his mother- to comfort and soothe him.

"What about Grim? He can't stay here. He will panic without me or think I abandoned him and he doesn't need that kind of stress so early in life. But I don't want him seeing the execution either, that is far too brutal an event for one so young."

Trein nodded to this, his own feline companion Lucius was laying curled up in his arms and sleeping peacefully. None of the staff seemed particularly comfortable with you being away from Night Raven but none seemed to be able to find a better solution. It was only made more dire to know that you had agreed to these 'visits' to other countries prior, meaning you had to follow through with the promises you made.

"He should go with you, and you should cover his eyes during the execution. If he stays, he will work himself into a panic and you won't be there to calm him down. If he goes, he can't leave your side or others may try to use him to get to you. He needs to go with you, but you can stop him from seeing the execution and being impacted by it."

A soft sigh escaped you as you gently pet the kit's head, Grim stretching his paws out in his sleep to grab your hand and nuzzle it. He was so young and so little, it was heartbreaking to think about anyone taking advantage of him to hurt you and that Rat- Huoshu as Crowley claimed- had been willing to pay for the kit to be killed. You wanted the Rat dead, but you knew even the Rat's death would not fully soothe the stressed kit.

"Okay. I agree he should come with, just to keep his stress down. I'll see what I can do about stopping him from seeing the Execution."

"Who would you like to guard you?"

"..."

~•§•~

It was rare that you were the first to arrive for a Housewarden meeting, usually one of the last. However, Crowley waking you early to talk with the staff before he called for a meeting meant you were first to arrive with the Crow and Grim. You figured Malleus would not be in attendance unless you called for him given what Lilia had told you about his issues with technology. Still, you sent a text to Lilia, Silver, and Sebek to try and attend with Malleus so you wouldn't cause the Dragon undue stress.

Given your many options to choose from among your guards, you had a good list of those you were planning to bring along. The only thing that worried you about this list was the potential for the beast men to become either prideful at being selected, or angry at not being selected.

Most of those that filtered in actually seemed pleased to see you already in attendance and you recognized many brought their chosen group along even if they had not guarded you prior. Vil brought Rook and Epel. Riddle brought Trey, Cater, Ace, and Deuce. Leona brought Ruggie and Jack. Azul brought Floyd and Jade. Kalim brought Jamil. Idia brought Ortho. Malleus was last to arrive, but the Hoard came with him always.

When all of the others had finally arrived for the meeting, Crowley actually let you take the lead on it to explain what was happening and why. It was a little odd- as the Crow had not done this prior- but perhaps even he was beginning to realize you had your own agency and could mostly handle yourself.

"I won't be staying at Night Raven this week-"

Your first words were met with outcry from all of the guards and you had to wait for them to fall silent again, now all of them seeming stressed compared to their behavior prior.

"I am to attend the execution of the traitor scientist who hired the Wolves to kill me. He has been sentenced to death by beheading in the Queendom of Roses and I am required to attend. As I will be away from Night Raven and have no magic of my own to protect me from potential threats, Headmage Crowley and the other staff have agreed that I should take several guards with me for this endeavor. Those who come with me will be excused from classwork for the duration of time I am in the Queendom. I have an idea of who I wish to bring with me, but I do have a few questions that will determine who ultimately is selected. Who here is from the Queendom of Roses?"

Riddle was quick to raise his hand, as was Ace, Deuce, and Trey. You nodded, taking note of those who would be familiar with the landscape and the expected rules of the country. Despite knowing you were not held to the same rules as the others, you still didn't want to break any laws regardless of if you would be held accountable or not.

"Very well. Riddle, you're one of the guards I am choosing to come with. We are leaving later today, so I do hope you can pack quickly as we will be in the Queendom for at least six days. I do expect you to tell me of any laws that I need to be mindful of so I do not cause offence while we are in the Queendom. Trey, the Heartslabyul dorm needs at least one of their Dormleaders, so I can't bring you too, despite the fact I would like to bring you both."

Trey nodded, seeming to be somewhat downcast but also understanding your reasoning. His quick acceptance gave you a bit of hope as to how the others would react to not being selected despite how they clearly wished to all come with you.

"Malleus, because I know it will stress you out otherwise and I would rather keep my strongest guard with me, I would like you to come with as well, just in case anything happens. Lilia, that does mean you can't come with since Diasomnia needs you."

"I understand, (Y/n). Hopefully there won't be dire need, but Malleus will absolutely be able to protect you even if I am not there. Keep me updated though, and I will drop everything to come help should you call."

Lilia was always the more socially graceful of the two, and though you wanted him to come instead of Malleus, you still figured the strongest would dissuade others from attacking or trying their luck. Malleus seemed positively thrilled, however.

"Leona, for the sake of Sunset Savana and to combat the racism against Nemean Lions, I do think you should come with as well. Ruggie, I hope you can manage the Pride while Leona is with me."

"Aww, does that mean I have to starve for the week?"

"Ruggie-"

"Shihihi, I'm just playing with you (Y/n). I'll do it, but I want double portions when you get back, okay?"

"Fine. I figured you'd want something in return."

The Gnoll seemed pleased with the arrangement and Leona was beaming with pride. That at least gave you three Housewardens on your side, but you also didn't plan to stop with just the three guards.

"I can't take every Housewarden with me on this, but it would be remiss of me to not include Vice-Housewardens and regular students as well. Rook, you are a Hunter with keen instincts and a sharp eye, I do feel safer if you came with as you can read the body language of others better than I can and you know what behavior to watch out for."

"I will happily take the role of your gallant knight and guard you with my very life, Mademoiselle Trickster."

Rook could keep an eye on vantage points and see if anyone was targeting you, as he had the mind of a hunter. He would be first to know what to look out for and who to be suspicious of while you are exposed to the rest of this insane world.

"Floyd, think you can entertain yourself enough to come with, or should I choose Jade?"

"Naw, Jade is always whining about new foods, don't pick him. I'd be happy to go along with you, Lil Shrimpy. Sounds like it will be a blast and a half!"

Jade sent a pointed glare to his twin, but clearly Floyd was elated by being selected. Azul almost seemed like he wanted to argue with the decision but ensured to keep himself quiet despite his internal protests.

"I don't want to take too many with me on this trip, so I think the five I've chosen are the best bet for this situation. Idia, if I take a tablet with me, will you be able to keep tabs while I am gone?"

"Absolutely."

"Good, does anyone else have any complaints or want to suggest they come along? I'm going to need a good reason to allow it, but I am willing to listen."

You looked around at the group, noticing Azul and Vil were both huffing in anger despite your explanation for not taking them as well. Despite their poor moods, neither of them objected. Much to your surprise, it was actually Ortho who spoke up.

"I think I should come with. I may not be from the Queendom of Roses, but I can scan for unusual behavior, odd activity, and can detect heat signatures through walls. On top of that, I can check to see if there are any unwelcome or undisclosed monitoring technology planted in whatever accommodations are provided."

"That... That is actually a damn good point. Ortho, feel like visiting the Queendom? I will request you don't watch the beheading though... It is sure to be a messy affair and I would rather someone of your age not have to witness that."

"You can count on me!"

Idia seemed a little unsettled with Ortho leaving, but he also seemed to agree with Ortho as to the reasoning for him coming along. He would just have to make sure that Ortho can fix or repair himself well enough before he leaves in case anything happens. The older Shinigami would rather not lose his little brother if he can help it.

"Alright. It is decided. Those who are coming with, make sure you are ready to go by midday today. They will be expecting us."

~•§•~

You stood looking at the mirror in your room, frowning slightly to yourself. There was no way to know if the Ghosts were there or not and you wanted to let them know where you were going before you left, just in case they tried to speak to you. All you could do was hope they heard you as you murmured softly to the mirror.

"I won't be here this week, but I will be back. If you all find something... Anything... Please wait for me to come back. This isn't the end, but... Who knows what will happen? Please... Please wait for me."

A faint shine took over the mirror despite nothing forming in the surface of the glass. Though none of the ghosts spoke to you through the mirror, you still took it as a sign that they heard you.

As you grabbed your bags, a kind of stress overtook you as to what exactly would be waiting for you on the other side of the looking glass. Perhaps the Queendom would welcome you, seeing as so many laws were in place to protect Humans despite their extinction. Perhaps they would covet you the moment you stepped on Queendom soil. Perhaps they would hate you. You really didn't know.

Still, there was no way you could avoid this and you knew the execution was to be a public event. Maybe, just maybe, the laws and the public beheading would be enough to discourage most from acting against you. You weren't holding onto too much hope, however.

Heavy weighs the burden that is being the last of your species in a world that craves so viciously. Heavy weighs the title you were given unwillingly. Heavy weighs the duty foisted upon you.

All you could do now was hope you could survive long enough to escape, and continue the pantomime until you were free.

[narcoticv3nus]

Say You Want Me Too 𝜗𝜚 John Price

Kinktober Day XVII: Honeymoon

summary: the first night after getting married is always special tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, body worship, sweet lovemaking, fluff wc: 1.2k

MASTERLIST

You let out a fit of giggles, watching your new husband press his face into your thigh, clamping his teeth around your lacy white garter before ripping it off your body, his large hands holding your legs apart.

He gazes up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief before he drops the garter from the clutches of his mouth, letting it fall to the floor as he yanks your legs over his shoulders, burying his nose into your pubic mound.

With a low growl of desire, John's rough yet warm palms slide up the length of your thighs, his thumbs gently teasing your sensitive skin. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and admiration. He whispers huskily, his voice dripping with desire, "Never imagined this is how I'd spend my nights. Never imagined I'd be lucky enough to call you mine." Before you can respond, his lips press against your center, his tongue tracing a path of fire as he tastes every inch of you hungrily.

John's gaze locks onto yours, his blue eyes piercing through the dimly lit room. He leans closer, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips part in a sensuous smile. He slowly trails kisses upwards, along your thighs, leaving a path of warmth in his wake. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you closer, deepening the connection between the two of you. His tongue swirls around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your breath hitch.

The sound of your moans fuels his desire, driving him to please you further. He moves his lips down, delving deeper into your wetness, his tongue exploring every fold and curve.

Raising his head for a brief moment, John flashes a cocky grin, his cheeks flushed with desire. "You taste so bloody perfect," he murmurs against your skin, his voice gruff with need. He gently nibbles on your thigh, sending a shiver through your body.

John's fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance, testing your readiness. He smirks as you squirm beneath his touch, a thrill coursing through him. "You like that, love?" His eyes twinkle with a playful challenge as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue. The salty tang of sweat mixes with the sweetness of your arousal, an intoxicating cocktail that makes his heart race.

He slides two fingers inside you, curling them expertly while continuing his assault on your clit. The rhythm is relentless, matching the tempo of his racing pulse.

John's eyes never leave yours as he works his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

He savors the feeling of your body tensing underneath him, the way your muscles contract around his fingers. His desire grows stronger, his erection straining against his trousers. He wants nothing more than to be inside you, but first, he needs to see you fall apart in his arms. John increases the pressure, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive nerves.

"Come on,” he breathes your name. “Let go," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. He feels you getting closer, your moans turning desperate, your hips bucking against his mouth. John's fingers curl deeper inside you, his movements becoming more urgent. The room fills with the sounds of your pleasure, each gasp and moan spurring him on. He feels his release building, mirroring the storm brewing within you.

Finally, with a keening cry, you shatter beneath him, your body convulsing in ecstasy. John drinks in your pleasure, his release held at bay by sheer force of will. As your tremors subside, he slowly withdraws his fingers, planting a final kiss on your damp skin before rising to his feet.

With a satisfied sigh, John moves up your body, trailing kisses along your stomach, chest, and neck. He cradles your head in one hand, supporting it gently as he looms over you.

He reaches down with his other hand and unbuttons his trousers, freeing himself. John's erection springs forth, hard and insistent. He positions himself at your entrance, savoring the heat radiating from your core. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against yours, tasting yourself in your mouth.

With a fervent hunger, John's lips capture yours in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing against yours as he aligns himself with your entrance. His fingers flex against your hipbones as he pushes inside, filling you. He groans into your mouth, the sensation of you tightening around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

John breaks the kiss, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to thrust. Each movement is deliberate and decisive, mirroring the intensity of his feelings. He wants to claim you and mark you as his own. The headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall, echoing the primal beat of their lovemaking. As John drives deeper into you, he lets out a low moan, his eyes narrowing with pleasure. His pace quickens, each thrust more brutal than the last.

John's grip tightens on your hips as he feels your body respond to his, the heat building between you two unbearable. His heart pounds in his chest, the adrenaline of the moment taking over. He leans down, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance as old as time itself. As he moves inside you, John's thoughts become primal—each stroke a testament to his desire, each gasp from you a reward for a job well done.

He can't help but think back to all the times he's been close to death, all the moments he thought would be his last, and how they pale in comparison to this. With a growl, John breaks the kiss and whispers in your ear, "I love you." He nips at your earlobe, groaning your name into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

He rolls his hips, changing the angle slightly, and you cry out in pleasure. The sound goes straight to his core, pushing him closer to the edge. John's movements become erratic, his breathing ragged. He lifts his head, eyes blazing into yours, and says, "Come for me, love." As if on command, your body tightens around him, and your orgasm crashes over you both. John follows suit, his release powerful and intense. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

When it finally subsides, John rolls off you, pulling you close to his side. He softly kisses your forehead, his hand idly stroking your arm as he catches his breath. His heart rate slows, and he feels a sense of peace he hasn't known in years.

In the aftermath of passion, John’s body cools down, his breathing evening out as he holds you close. He gazes at you with a tender smile, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your bare shoulder.

Leaning in, John nuzzles your neck, planting feather-light kisses along your collarbone. "My wife," he murmurs, his voice still rough with desire. His eyes roam over your flushed features, taking in every detail of your beauty. "You're mine,"

main masterlist, rules

[hitomisuzuya]

requests are open, WOO!!

I've got an idea for scara. Yk how he always sticks his tongue out and blows raspberries at us? Imagine him doing that over the whole day, being the sarcastic bf he is and fem!reader gets annoyed, ending with scara/wanderer (idc which one, both are hot ngl) putting that tongue to good use, showing her how good he can make her feel with it over and over again?

ALSO, my condolences for the heat wave where you're at, we're having constant thunderstorms here💀

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunnilingus. Multiple orgasms. Pussy drunk!Scara. Ego stroking. Slut used once.

June 7th, guys. June 7th is when they coming to put the new AC unit in. Send your storms my way, dear❤️

"Is this what you meant when you asked me to use my tongue for something else?" Scaramouche asked, prodding and swirling his tongue around your pulsing clit. You could only dignify him with shaky sighs and moans that started to rise in octave as your grinded your cunt against his tongue.

You couldn't even be annoyed or quite frankly infuriated at his chuckle. The same egotistical laugh he'd been using all day, his remarks dripping with sarcasm while he stuck his tongue out at you.

This man never cared if he was infuriating or annoying. It was a people issue, not a him issue. And you loved him for that. So much. But today, damn he was just extra relentless.

Your hand found the back of his head, pushing his mouth further down onto your puffy pussy, each lick and glide from his tongue making you wetter. Almost embarrassingly so.

This is much more preferable to his gremlin behavior. You were steadily forgetting that you had been annoyed with him. W-why was I annoyed with him again? You even stumbled over thinking those words in your head, your loudest moan of the afternoon filtering in his ears as he swept his tongue down from your clit, plunging it inside of you.

Your hips bucked into Scaramouche's mouth, his tongue taking you higher and higher. He groaned feeling your walls clench around his tongue, his hands firmly holding your thighs apart. "Go on," He purred, smirking up at you, "use your words, pretty."

He tapped his beautiful fingers in the inside of your thighs impatiently. He knew full well he could make you cum as fast as he wanted, or let you cum when he decided he could. Swirling his tongue inside of you, he took great care in making you feel every lick on your sensitive walls.

You whimpered as he withdrew his tongue, feeling his ego growing. In the dizzying pleasure he was tongue was bringing you, you felt compelled to stroke his ego like you always did. His behavior be damned, he deserves it.

Scaramouche grew more impatient despite feeling proud that he was starting to melt your poor little brain with his tongue so fast. He sucked on your clit again, encouraging you to speak.

He always got what he wanted.

"Your tongue is making me see Celestia," You cried out. Every urgent tug on his hair made his cock throb, and harden. He could get off hearing you in the throes of pleasure. He fed on it. His tongue sped up on your clit, demanding more. "It's only your tongue I want. It's all I ever want," You babbled, your body twitching as he vibrated a muffled moan on your cunt.

"What a slut," Scaramouche moaned, getting drunk on your taste. Your worshipping praise only added fuel to the fire. His tongue worked over your clit with the same relentlessness he used in sticking it out at you all day.

Archons, he loves it when you stroke his ego. He wanted to cum like the good girl you are for him.

Scaramouche rutted his aching cock into the mattress. "Go on," He growled, releasing your clit with a soft, wet pop. He flattened his tongue, giving it kitten licks.

"It's only your tongue that can make me cum," You whimpered before your orgasm suddenly hit you. He loudly slurped loudly at your cunt, indulging himself in the taste while he tongue fucked you through your orgasm.

Scaramouche promptly sucked on your clit again, making you nearly scream from pleasure. He could feel your hands trembling as you pushed his mouth down onto your cunt. "I need more," He groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Having not come down from your first orgasm, it didn't take long for you to cum again, squirting as well much to his delight.

But he did not stop, driven with the intent to make you cum again.

[jjjjeonww]

xu minghao - a beach proposal.

genre - romance word count - 1172 ~~in which minghao proposes to you at the same place he asked you out.

the sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks as it began its slow descent towards the horizon. the gentle waves lapped at the shore, the rhythmic sound a soothing melody that had become all too familiar to you over the years. you stood at the edge of the beach, the salty breeze tousling her your and plastering the thin fabric of your sundress against your curves.

it was here, at this very spot, that minghao had first asked you out all those years ago. a chance encounter, a shared umbrella on a rainy day, and a connection that had sparked instantly between two strangers who felt like they had known each other for lifetimes. you closed your eyes, a soft smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you remembered the nervous butterflies that had fluttered in your stomach that day.

now, six years later, those butterflies had been replaced by a profound sense of love, loyalty, and partnership. minghao had been your rock, your constant support and encouragement throughout your meteoric rise in the fashion world. late nights spent hunched over sketches and writings, early mornings fueled by nothing but coffee and the fire of your ambition, minghao had been there through it all, his unwavering belief in your never wavering.

as if on cue, you heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the sand behind you. you turned, your heart leaping into your throat as you saw minghao walking towards you, his tall frame silhouetted against the setting sun. he had always been handsome, but the years had only honed his features, giving him a rugged, masculine charm that made your knees buckle.

minghao stopped before you, his dark eyes searching yours, a tentative smile on his lips. "do you remember the last time we were here, y/n?" he asked softly, reaching out to take your hand in his.

you nodded, squeezing his fingers gently. "how could i forget? it's where you asked me out, where you stole my heart and made me fall in love with you."

minghao's smile widened, his thumb brushing over the smooth skin of your knuckles. "and in the years since, you've not only stolen my heart, but my soul as well. i never imagined i could find someone as incredible, as talented, and as kind as you."

minghao continued, his voice growing more impassioned with each word. "watching you build your empire from the ground up, seeing the way you pour your heart and soul into every creation, the love and dedication you show to your team… it's been the greatest honor of my life to witness your journey and to stand by your side."

he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek, his calloused palm a comforting warmth against your skin. "but more than that, y/n, you've taught me what it means to love unconditionally, to support and encourage another person's dreams without reservation. you've shown me that true love isn't about possession or control, but about nurturing growth and celebrating the incredible human being you are."

tears welled in your eyes as you listened to minghao's heartfelt words, your heart swelled with the depth of your love for him. "minghao, i… i don't know what to say," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

"say you'll marry me, y/n," minghao murmured, "say you'll let me spend the rest of my life loving you, supporting you, and cherishing you in every way i can. say you'll let me be your partner, your teammate, your family… now and forever."

he sank to one knee before you, pulling a small, velvet box from his pocket. inside, a stunning diamond ring glittered in the fading light, the gem a perfect reflection of the love that shone in minghao's eyes.

"y/n, from the moment i met you, i knew you were the one i wanted to spend my life with. i never believed in love at first sight ever but you changed that. and now, seeing the incredible woman you've become, the way you light up the lives of everyone around you… i know with absolute certainty that you're the only one i want by my side, for all the days of my life. i love you like how the flowers love the sunlight. like the heavens sing in its celestial ballet, like eternity itself in its daily ballet, like infinity stretches in its endless reign, like the timeless dance of the cosmic domain, like the eternal rhythm of the universe's heart. sorry, was that too much? i'm really nervous."

he took a deep breath, his voice trembling with the weight of his love. "y/n, will you marry me? will you make me the happiest man in the world and say that you'll be mine, now and for eternity?"

as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of colors, you knew that your answer was the easiest decision you had ever made. with tears streaming down your face and a heart full to bursting with love, you whispered the words that would bind them together for eternity.

"yes, minghao. yes, i will marry you."

a brilliant, joyful smile erupted across minghao's face as he heard your answer. he leapt to his feet, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around in a exultant circle. you laughed, giddy with happiness and a little bit of dizziness, as he held your close and twirled your beneath the star-studded sky.

as he set you back down on the sand, he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes shining with adoration and a fierce yet gentle love. "i love you so much, y/n," he murmured, his forehead pressed against yours. "i promise to spend every day of our lives together cherishing you, supporting you, and loving you with every fiber of my being."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you held him close. "i love you too, minghao," you whispered, your heart swelling with a profound sense of peace and belonging. "i can't wait to build a life with you, to start a family with you, and to grow old together by your side."

with a trembling hand, minghao slid the ring onto your finger, the diamonds glittering like a tiny star against the backdrop of the night sky. it was a perfect fit, a symbol of the seamless way your lives had intertwined and the unbreakable bond you both shared.

as you and minghao stood there, locked in each other's embrace, the waves crashing gently against the shore and the cool night breeze caressing your skin and his, you and minghao knew that this was only the beginning of your greatest adventure yet. a lifetime of love, laughter, and endless possibilities stretched out before you, and he couldn't wait to face it all hand in hand, heart to heart, and soul to soul.

[charlottecutepie]

｡ꪆৎ ˚ Bully (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

while I'm writing fics with William (and making some people’s requests!), i decided to post Michael smut bc there’s lack of content about this boy :)

summary: you're mad at both Simon and Michael for not helping you with project. But guys only mock you, saying stupid jokes about your ex. Wait, was it you or Michael’s voice sounded rather… jealous?

tags: Michael is jealous and kind of possessive, bully!Mike, mention of break up, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, kind of rough sex?? (Michael can’t control himself), William Afton mentioned

"Stop smoking." in a loud, angry tone, you tell to a couple of guys beside. One of them turns around and blows smoke right in your face, laughing. "Fuck you, Simon."

"Don't tell me what to do, tuts," Simon frowns and leans against his friend Michael, who was busy reading comics, not paying attention to you. "You've been too nervous and angry lately." guy notices. "Is it because of your ex?"

"Of course, no dick and she's all worked up." Michael adds fuel to the fire without even bothering to turn to you. However, his back stiffened.

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do here? We have a fucking project together and I'm only one doing something, that's why I'm mad at you!"

Simon didn't answer because he just didn't know what to say. You were right. He and Michael didn't do shit, only you worked on the task. Simon just gave you a blank look, raising his eyebrows mockingly. There was a rage boiling inside you that almost made your face turn red.

"Ran after him like a tail." Michael lets out a strangled laugh, finally turning to you, his fingers clutching the comic. "You really loved that boy so much, didn't you?"

Now it's your turn to shut up. Insults and obscenities rise in your throat, threatening to jump out. Michael's face didn't flinch for a second as he continued to pierce you with blue eyes, as if trying to make you uncomfortable, which was puzzling. Michael has always been like this: aggressive, with cruel and stupid jokes, cheeky taunts. But why do his words sound like he's jealous now? Why so much attention to your personal life?

"You two are completely useless, I'll have to ask teacher to pair me with other students." you sigh, putting all your notes, notebooks, sunglasses in your bag, and the next second you leave both guys behind.

Their behavior, especially Simon, who was like Michael's faithful dog, doing everything just to get approval from its owner, infuriated and caused indignation. But more than that, you were hurt their comments about your personal life. Your ex has nothing to do with it.

You go back to school walking through empty corridors since classes have already ended. Of course, you'd have been home a long time ago, too, but thanks to a couple of jerks, you're stuck here until tonight. You angrily punch Michael's school locker, ripping off the poster of his favorite rock band.

"Fuck you, Michael Afton!" you swear, crumpling the poster in your hands and throwing it on the floor.

You had no idea that someone was following you slowly and carefully through the corridors.

Upset and frustrated, you enter lady's bathroom, go to the mirror and look at yourself carefully. Why, you think, he broke up with me? What happened between us?

You straighten your hair, carefully laying it on your shoulders, without interrupting eye contact with your reflection. You need to push these thoughts away, now is not the best time for self-reflection, you need to gather your strength and finish this damn project.

You try to find something in your bag as you take out a lip gloss from your makeup bag. And again feeling of sadness and longing comes through. Now it feels wrong and hurtful whenever you look at that gloss. Your boyfriend always liked it when you applied it. And now it's a painful reminder that will haunt you for a long time. It's just not fair.

Just when you're about to throw that lip gloss in the trash, someone comes into the bathroom. You think it's another girl, so you don't pay attention.

"It was my favorite poster." Michael's voice is slightly angry. An unpleasant surprise is reflected on your face as you turn to him, pressing lip gloss to your chest. This is definitely not what you expected to see in the women's bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" you hiss at Afton, looking him up and down. "You've been following me?"

"Knowing what a crybaby you are, it was the right decision." Michael shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans, leaning against the wall. "What if you went to hang yourself? And then Simon and I would be accused of driving to suicide."

"Stop your idiotic jokes at least now! Can't you see that I feel too bad?" you grit your teeth and frown. Your voice sounds offended. Michael's behavior has always been infuriating, but now it crosses all boundaries.

"My father taught me that if a girl is upset, she needs to be supported. That's how all gentlemen behave." the young man says with a sneer.

"Fuck you and your dad, Mike," you shout. "you're just like him, you selfish jerk!"

"Mmm," Michael nods, grinning. "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

You are silent again, not knowing what to say to this insolence. Does Afton really think that in eyes of other people, he's all cool and cocky? Doesn't he realize how stupid his behavior is? Yes, he is certainly a copy of his dad, Mr. Afton, but with a slight difference. The last one has at least some brains.

"My eyes are up here, honey," Michael grins, noticing your gaze. You blink in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"I didn't even look there, you idiot." you fold your arms over your chest and turn away, lifting your chin. That's when Michael pushes you against the wall, towering over you.

"Sure." he can't help but smile stupidly. "I must say, you have beautiful eyes, princess. That's what he called you, right?" there was something wrong with Michael's intonation, even this mockery sounded like he wanted to hurt not you, but himself. There was definitely a hint of jealousy in the young man's tone, although you didn't pay attention to it.

With every action and word of Michael, anger grows inside you, which has been accumulating all this time. And then the mixture of all the negative emotions finally reaches the top. You can't get over how much of an asshole Michael is. You'd do anything to shut him up, just to show him his place. But it doesn't take much time, the anger breaks out. Putting the lip gloss back in the bag, you raise your hand and slap Michael hard in the face.

Afton's cheek burns from your blow, it hurts unpleasantly so it takes him a couple of seconds to come to his senses, then he raises his head at you. His hand instantly reaches for the red mark, stroking it to ease the pain. Yes, it was insulting, even a little humiliating, but again he hides it behind an arrogant and satisfied grin.

However, his next words are strangely surprising.

"You know what?" Michael says in a calm voice. "That was hot."

You look at him, not even hiding your disgust at his words. Michael is such an asshole, even much worse than Simon and their two other bully friends. No wonder why Afton is the leader of their stupid bully four.

Just as you're about to slap him again, Afton grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Your eyes widen with shock from his his behavior, you try to break free. Your heart is beating faster from misunderstanding. Being in the hands of a bully, in such an intimate position, when anyone can enter here, makes the situation even more dangerous.

"How stupid of him to lose a beautiful girl like you," Michael whispers, looking at your face, at how your lips are trembling. "I'll repeat, my father taught me to support when girl is sad." the last thing he says before leaning in for a kiss.

For a second, everything in your body, especially brain, stopped working, you froze. Even though Michael is holding you, you don't even try to pull away. Afton's actions become bolder because he sees no resistance, so he tries to get his tongue into your mouth. And that's when you finally realize what's going on and push him away.

"Fuck off, you idiot." you mumble, looking at him point-blank.

"I see that such support isnt enough." Michael bares his teeth and pushes his knee right between your legs what makes your skirt rise a little. At that moment, you blush and try to pull it back, but Michael's hand stops you.

You froze in another shock from another sudden kiss. You expected him to do everything but that. You try to push him away, but it's hard to get out of his grip. Or is it you who's fighting too weakly? At first kiss doesn't seem so pleasant, but then Michael deepens it as his hand moves to your waist, hugging you. The kiss gets more intense when you start responding, your body melts under Afton's touch. You don't even have time to keep up with your thoughts, confused by your own actions.

His lips suddenly feel so warm and pleasant which makes you want more, crave even more of this feeling: to be held like this, to be kissed like this even if it's Michael damn Afton. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder. This isn't what you planned when you went here.

When he pulls away from you, you are in oblivion, heat is burning inside. Michael looks at you hungrily, not understanding why you responded. He lets you go and you stumble away from him, but after a moment your back hits wall. You're trying to figure out what just happened. Did he really just kissed you? And you responded with same? Why did this happen at all? There are more questions than answers.

Your heart is pounding as you stare at him, into his eyes, trying to read the answers in them. He caught you off guard, but you didn't push him off right away, you even started responding. The bitter truth is that you liked it more than you wanted to admit. The way he kisses, kind of rude but so hot�� It caused an exciting pleasant feeling. But you don't understand how you can be attracted to this bully, in fact, a tormentor, a brute. All thoughts are fucked up and your legs feel like cotton wool.

Michael is elated to see the confusion on your face.

"Little miss hard-to-get," he says, running a finger over his lips. "always trying to be unapproachable." you're staring at him, heart is still pounding from the kiss. You can't find words. Michael feels your vulnerability and it only gives him confidence. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he says with a sly grin. "I know it by the way you melt in my arms.

So he's also a romantic. However, he sucks at making tremulous speeches.

Feeling of annoyance reappears.

You try to deny it, but deep inside you know that Michael's words are true. You hate what's happening, what you've gotten yourself into. You blame yourself for enjoying it. A feeling of incomprehensible and inexplicable resentment grows inside: why couldn't HE make you feel like this? Why does it have to be Michael? It's unfair.

It's wrong to be aroused by Michael, to feel a pleasant tingling in the lower belly. Wrong, you keep telling yourself. You need to slap that cocky face one more time and get out of here. Forget about everything that just happened.

Why the hell does it have to be Michael? You have to act like this with your boyfriend, it's almost cheating. But a second later, a bitter realization comes to your clouded mind. Right… You don't have a boyfriend anymore.

Michael sees the contradiction on your face and decides to try his luck, as if reading your mind.

"Maybe I'm the one you should be with," he leans closer. "I mean look at me," he says, pointing at himself. "I'm handsome, confident and I know how to treat a girl." he chuckles softly.

No way! You shake your head trying to come to your senses. You know what he's doing, trying to manipulate emotions by hitting on your weak spot: ex. But for some reason, you don't deny his words. It's strange, the feeling of impermanence, misunderstanding is infuriating. And Michael is like some kind of drug right now that you can't resist. Your palms sweating.

You're trying to regain your composure, push him away. But you don't don't strength, especially moral one, to do that. So you just look into his blue eyes, trying to understand the strange feeling inside.

"Have you been jealous all this time?" you ask, without realizing the question yourself, now you are acting only on emotions.

That's when the picture finally starts to show up… Michael's words, actions. All those stares, all those sneers. It was Michael's jealousy, which he could only show in this way.

"Jealous?" he repeats, his eyes widen slightly at your question. Michael was even surprised that you understood so quickly. "You have a rich imagination."

But you know better now. You didn't notice it at all before, spending all your time with your boyfriend. But others, especially Michael's friends, noticed the way he looked at you. Now it's getting clearer, now you see it. He was motivated and is still by something more than just hatred and the desire to mock you forever.

"Don't lie, you're really jealous." it seems that your words hurt him more than you thought. He looks away, staring at the floor.

"Maybe," Michael admits quietly. "maybe i am."

You feel a strange sense of victory, realizing that you've figured out reason of his stupid behavior. But at the same time, you feel guilty. You shouldn't like how the situation is developing and where it's all leading.

When you look into Michael's eyes, the tension only increases. It's as if all the pent-up emotions have been spilling out for so long, turning into an inexplicable lump that confuses both of you.

Suddenly his hands pull your hips closer to him, and you feel his erection through his pants. You both sigh from the close contact. Michael leans in kissing you again, his fingers sliding under your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts. You moan softly into his mouth. Afton pulls away and begins to cover your chin line with hot, wet kisses, then your neck. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, surrendering to the sensations. You don't want to think so you drive common sense and thoughts away.

Michael slips his fingers behind your bra, unbuttoning it. After that, he gently rolls your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it a little. You exhale, clutching at his hair. This is madness, it's impossible to stand it anymore. Michael's lips leave a trail of passionate kisses along your collarbone, his fingers teasingly descend to your stomach. He stops for a moment to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know," he begins, his voice already hoarse with arousal. "I can get any girl I want."

You bite your lip, trying not to show how much you enjoy it. You realize that Michael is just trying to play on your nerves.

"Yeah?" you ask, trying to hide a groan. "Then what makes me so special?"

Michael grins darkly, his fingers tracing your sensitive nipple.

"I don't know," he replies, and gets a menacing look from you that says he's about to get a smack on head. "Maybe it's because you're so damn sexy when you play hard to get."

His compliments and flirting, if you can call it so, are pretty stupid and dumb, but then why do they cause pleasant goosebumps that cover the whole body? You want this. You need him. You can feel desire intensifying with every second, body craves his touch. You turn to face the wall, pressing your butt against his hard-on, letting him know exactly what you want, even though Michael understood everything a long time ago. And he wants the same thing.

"That's it," he breathes, giving you a kiss on the neck. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes," you're squirming. "I want you to fuck me." you meet his gaze, giving him puppy eyes.

Without wasting a second, he lowers his hand down, his fingers push your soaked panties aside, exposing your already dripping pussy to the cool air.

"God, you're so fucking wet…"

Michael's fingers slide between your folds, exploring your wet cunt. Your knees are buckling, and you have to lean against the wall to keep your balance. Michael smiles slyly, his fingers sweetly toying with your clit. You're whimpering, snuggling up against him, pushing up your skirt. He sighs noisily, thrusting two fingers into you at once, sliding them deeper and deeper inside, stretching you as your body shudders with pleasure.

"Lovely, such a good girl." he mutters, still moving his fingers. "cum for me, cum on my fingers." he whispers.

You grab onto the wall as a pleasant shiver runs through your whole body. Michael continues to stimulate your clit, making you arch. And you reach the peak, your body shivers.

"I've wanted you for so long." his hand turns your face to him, Michael looks deep into your eyes. "Your ex," he says in a low and angry voice. "he's a loser, a real idiot, because he couldn't satisfy you. That's why you're here, with me, in my arms."

Your desire is mixed with guilt, realizing what Michael is hinting at. You think you've somehow betrayed your ex by falling into the hands of someone else. But it's not like that. And Michael will prove it to you.

"You're mine now. That bastard missed his chance." Michael says, pressing his lips to yours.

As soon as Michael's words reach you, he straightens up and pulls your body closer, spreading your legs. He rubs his hard cock against your wet entrance and you shudder again in anticipation, responding to his caresses.

Michael pushes inside you, trying to stifle the desire to fuck you hard and rough, to make you cry, to make you forget that you ever dated anyone before him. Jealousy devours him and a disgusting picture forms in his brain… of you hugging and kissing HIM. But not Michael.

He stops, he pulls almost out only to slam back inside again, this time much deeper. Your walls tighten around his cock, waves of pleasure overwhelm both of you. Michael exhales loudly, squeezes your hips and picks up speed, furiously driving into you.

He can't control himself.

You scream into your own fist, all thoughts of the wrongness of the situation disappear, Michael hits all the right places, causing you to moan sweetly. Each hard thrust echoes with vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin, which only excites you both more. Michael holds you tightly, fucking you as you move your hips in response to his thrusts. The orgasm grows again, a tight knot of pleasure twists in your lower abdomen.

"Michael, I'm… I'm gonna!…" you whimper.

Michael growls in response, already breaking into a wheeze. Sweat rolls off his forehead and he frowns as he continues to ruin your sweet pussy. He likes to hear you lose touch with the world around, knowing full well that he's reason of it. Pushing into you harder and faster, he lowers his hand between your legs, finding your clit with his thumb, ripping off another moan from you.

You cry, arching your back, his finger starts tracing your sensitive nub. The additional stimulation pushes you to the limit, your pussy walls clenches hard around his dick. Orgasm hits you like a wave, forcing you to swallow air.

But even when you're shaking from overstimulation, Michael doesn't stop. He continues to thrust, desperately driving deeper, already reaching your cervix, determined to show you what good sex is. Aggression, jealousy and resentment flare up inside him, regardless of the fact that you're completely his now, he cannot contain his emotions. He grabs you by the neck, squeezing just a little. Michael buries his nose in your hair, hiding his face in it and breathing heavily.

Michael fucks you so hard, so furiously, so fast that there's lack of air in your chest.

"His cock wasn't good as mine?" he pulls back slightly, leaving a kiss on your shoulder. It's like he purposely leaves bite marks and kisses to make sure that you really belong only to him.

You can't think, your eyes roll back in pleasure. You can only mumble plaintively to yourself.

"Yes! Your cock is so good, so good!. . ." you admit between ragged breaths. Michael smiles dreamily, feeling a sense of triumph, such recognition fills him with pride.

"That's right, baby," he bites your earlobe. "all you need is me."

The pleasure becomes all-consuming, hitting right into brain. Michael growls raggedly, feeling that hes also close. Another orgasm snaps in you, a discharge passes through your body. Mike also reaches his climax. His body is shaking. He pulls out of you at the last moment, cumming on the wall, moaning through clenched lips.

Both of you are just standing there, panting and trying to come to your senses. But you feel weak, still not understanding a single bit of what happened. You almost fall, but Michael holds you tight, both bodies sweaty and hot. Michael closes his eyes, breathing down your neck. Unlike you, he is aware and understands well what happened because he planned it all. Anger leaves him, but not jealousy. Michael is a very jealous person, especially when it comes to you.

The muscles begin to relax, a pleasant fatigue covers your body. Suddenly you feel his teeth digging into your neck, leaving a small painful bite. Michael runs his tongue over the small wound, at the same time his hands begin to squeeze your breasts, as if he is afraid to let you go.

"You're disgusting." you're mumbling.

"I take after my father." Michael answers you, not hiding the joy in his voice.

Though Michael will throw away the lip gloss anyway.

[seongwars]

𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 | 𝐨𝐧𝐞

Pairing: Viscount!Choi San x Countess!Reader AU: non-idol | regency Rating: T/NC-17 Summary: After falling prey to one of Choi San’s cruel games, you vowed yourself to a life of eternal spinsterhood. But when a fire leaves the Choi estate in ruins, the very man you swore you would never forgive re-enters your life. Word Count: 7.8K Warnings: you were a bet trope, misogyny, men being disappointing, angst, swearing, inaccurate depictions of the era (sorry history buffs 😭)

Fic Masterlist | Taglist Signup

a/n: it's here! the rewritten version of Ardently, now known as Wallflower! Note that those who signed up for Ardently's taglist will be tagged here, but let me know if you'd like for me to remove you!

feedback on this new version is also appreciated

"I’m joining a convent!" you declared dramatically, clutching a small sack packed with nothing but a pair of sensible shoes, and a shawl for your new monastic life.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother snapped, reaching for your arm as you darted past her with surprising agility, fueled by equal parts adrenaline and spite.

“I will not be trapped under the same roof as him!” you shouted, narrowly avoiding Anna, the head maid, who was attempting to form a human barricade by the parlor door. 

“The sisters of Saint Hala will understand my plight! They’ve taken in women for less!”

Joe, the head butler, a sweet old man, tried to sidestep your wild trajectory near the staircase, but you spun past him with an impressive maneuver. He groaned, pressing a hand to his lower back as you darted away, Anna and your mother hot on your heels. 

You burst out the front door and onto the gravel path. Anna was close behind, huffing as she struggled to keep her bonnet in place, while Joe followed at a more measured pace, muttering about the indignities of old age. Your mother, however, stalked after you like a woman possessed, her voice rising above the commotion.

“Kang Y/N, stop this nonsense! “You are not becoming a nun just because the Choi family is staying with us!”

You whipped around briefly, clutching your sack like a shield. “You’re asking me to endure the unspeakable horror of living under the same roof as Choi San!”

“I’m asking you to behave like an adult!” your mother shot back.

“I am an adult!” you retorted, darting further down the path. “One who is capable of making her own decisions!”

Behind you, the haphazard mob of your mother, Anna, and Joe screeched to a halt, their gasps of exertion mingling with the crunch of gravel underfoot.

“What now?” you barked, spinning around to glare at your entourage, your chest heaving from the effort of your escape. 

“My lady!” Anna squeaked, her voice strained. “My lady, wait!”

The answer came in the form of an unfamiliar silence. Slowly, you realized the mob wasn’t staring at you—they were looking just beyond you.

Confused, you turned toward the gates, and there he was.

Choi San was standing just a few feet away, halfway down the steps of his family’s carriage. He stared at you, his head tilted slightly, dark eyes wide with confusion as he took in the spectacle: you, breathless and disheveled, holding your pitiful sack like a runaway, while your mother, Anna, and Joe formed a panting, disorganized trio behind you.

For a moment, the only sound was the rustle of the breeze through the estate’s trees.

San blinked, clearly at a loss for words. His hand lingered on the edge of the carriage door as if he were debating whether stepping back inside would be the more sensible option.

“M-Ms. Kang?” he asked hesitantly, his voice soft and cautious, entirely devoid of the insufferable smugness you had expected.

Your face flushed a furious red, caught somewhere between humiliation and indignation. You had not run halfway down the estate path, your mother, Anna, and Joe in hot pursuit, just to be confronted by him of all people.

“You!” you spluttered, pointing a shaky finger in his direction, the sack swinging precariously at your side.

“Me?”

“Mr. Choi!” your mother shrieked suddenly, pushing past Anna, her skirts swishing dramatically.

“Mr. Choi, stop her!”

“She’s running away!” Anna exclaimed, clutching her chest as though this scandal was enough to make her faint.

“Block the path, tackle her if you must, anything to stop this madness!” Joe groaned, rubbing his aching knee.

Without giving anyone a chance to act, you spun on your heel and bolted. Your little sack was clutched tightly in your arms, its contents jingling faintly as your feet crunched against the gravel. 

Behind you, the chaos reached its peak—San calling your name in confusion, Anna’s faint protests, Joe muttering curses about his knees, and your mother’s furious shrieks of indignation. 

But none of it mattered. You had escaped. For now.

You hadn’t always loathed Choi San. At twenty, you’d even been drawn to his charm, captivated by the effortless confidence he exuded. But that admiration was short lived, turning into bitter resentment after he lured you into a reckless wager, a cruel game fueled by his arrogance that left you humiliated and betrayed.

4 Years Earlier

“Why the doom and gloom?” Wooyoung asked as he plopped into the seat across from San. He leaned back, stretching his legs out comfortably, as he took a swig of his scotch. 

San shot him a glare, the kind that would make lesser men falter, but Wooyoung only raised a brow, unfazed. San’s jaw tightened, and he gripped his glass more firmly.

“I’m not,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Wooyoung scoffed. “What’s going on? Did someone step on your pride or just your heart? Oh wait,” he feigned realization, snapping his fingers.

“It’s Dami, isn’t it?”

San’s jaw clenched visibly at the jab, and for a moment, he contemplated chucking the glass across the room just to see Wooyoung flinch. But he didn’t. It had been weeks, weeks since Dami’s defection to Lord Jeon, yet the sting of her rejection still burned like an open wound. 

San, the youngest and only son of Viscount Choi, had an uncanny knack for charming everyone he met. His charisma was well-known, making him the center of attention in any room. He wore his rakish reputation with pride, his flirtations harmless enough to keep him out of scandal but tantalizing enough to make him the subject of constant speculation.

And for a time, his charm had captured the heart of Han Dami, the daughter of a baron and the envy of every debutante. Together, they had been the couple of the season—the talk of every ballroom, the object of admiration and envy alike.

But that was before.

Before she abruptly ended things with him, San had entertained dreams of romance. A sweeping love story that defied the harsh realities of their world. But love alone was never enough. He lived in a world where practicality reigned, and expectations of passion often crumbled under the weight of ambition and survival.

“Look,” Wooyoung began, waving a dismissive hand. “Wallowing doesn’t suit you. If you’re so hung up on her, why not make her regret it? Win someone else over. Let her see what she gave up.”

San’s jaw tightened, his fingers drumming against his glass. The idea was ridiculous, childish, even, but it wormed its way into his mind nonetheless. Wooyoung, ever the instigator, saw it instantly. The faint flicker of hesitation in San’s eyes, the way his pride clashed with caution. 

“If you’re so confident, give me a name, and I’ll prove you wrong,” San finally said. 

“The Wallflower.” 

“Wallflower?”

“Miss Kang Y/N,” Wooyoung elaborated, his grin widening.

“Sister to the Earl Kang. You’ve seen her—always hiding in the corners, avoiding conversation like it’s a plague. Invisible to most. Certainly not your type.”

Your debut season in society was a whirlwind of excitement and trepidation, a delicate dance between anticipation and the subtle pressure to conform. As the younger sister of Earl Kang Yeosang, you entered the glittering world of the ton with a blend of expectation and apprehension. 

While others were preoccupied with securing advantageous matches or making influential acquaintances, your thoughts frequently wandered to the world of literature. You dreamt of a future where you would hold your first published book in your hands—a future that seemed distant amidst the societal demands of the present.

San scoffed, setting his glass down with a deliberate clink. “Since when have I needed a type to charm a lady?” 

“You’ll find no eager glances or fluttering fans with this one. She’s not desperate for attention. She’s reserved. Thoughtful. The sort who can see through a man’s empty words.”

“What’s the wager?”

“If you can truly win her over, I’ll fund that expedition you’ve been pestering me about for months,” Wooyoung replied with a nonchalant wave of his hand. He secretly hoped San would fail—an expedition of such grandeur was bound to cost a pretty penny.

San’s lips curved into a confident smirk. “Consider it done.”

A wave of laughter and cheers erupted in their circle of friends. The challenge had been laid out, and San’s self-assured response had ignited a buzz of excitement. He would prove Dami wrong. If she had chosen security over passion, then he would show her and everyone else that he was still the man every woman desired.

After all, what harm could there be in making a wallflower blossom?

The first attempt San set out to woo you, was at a hunt hosted by his family. The day was crisp, with a low mist hanging over the expansive grounds of the manor, a sprawling estate nestled against the autumnal countryside. The air is filled with the distant sounds of hounds barking, horses snorting, and the low murmur of conversation from the assembled guests.

Amid the cluster of gentlemen in their riding coats and polished boots, you spotted San, seated atop his stallion. His posture was relaxed yet commanding, drawing more than a few admiring glances from the assembled ladies.

San caught your gaze from across the clearing and nudged his horse in your direction. Your heart began to pound against your ribcage, each beat growing louder, more insistent, until it drowned out the distant chatter of the other guests. 

You were suddenly, acutely aware of the many eyes turning to watch this unexpected approach—mamas murmuring behind their fans, young ladies whispering behind gloved hands, and even the gentlemen casting curious glances. You could almost hear their thoughts: Why is he riding toward her? What does he mean by it?

“Ms. Kang,” San greeted as he reigned in his horse beside you, his voice low and smooth, laced with that familiar, infuriating hint of amusement. 

"What a welcome surprise."

You tilted your head slightly, fighting to keep your voice steady even as your fingers nervously fiddled with the leather handle of your riding crop. 

“Mr. Choi,” you replied, allowing a thin, polite smile to play on your lips, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here, away from the rest of your party.”

“And yet, here I am. Fate has a strange way of bringing people together, don’t you think?” San’s voice was smooth, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Or perhaps it’s your…habit for being everywhere at once,” you insinuated, taking a jab at his reputation.

His gaze lingered on you, a flicker of confusion in his eyes as he took in your demeanor. He had expected you to be as shy and reserved as the rumors suggested, but you defied those expectations entirely.

“Will you be watching from the sidelines like the rest?” San asked, a teasing edge in his voice that softened into genuine interest. 

“Or might you be bold enough to take part in the hunt yourself?”

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. “I might surprise you, Mr. Choi. I’m not one to sit idly by when there’s excitement to be had.”

San’s confusion quickly turned to intrigue. “I look forward to seeing you out there,” he said, his voice carrying a thread of quiet confidence. He gave you a slight, respectful bow of his head before guiding his horse back toward the group.

You caught the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his lips as he rode away, and a wave of frustration mingled with something warmer, something unwelcome, swept through you. You turned your horse away forcing yourself to ignore the whispers and sideways glances, and made your way over to where your brother and the rest of the hunting party had gathered. 

It was unusual for women to join the hunt, an activity traditionally dominated by men, but you had never been one to follow convention. Ever since you were a child, you had accompanied your father on his excursions, slipping away from the stuffy drawing rooms and the tiresome embroidery lessons to ride beside him. Your father had always encouraged your spirit, delighted in the way you held the reins with such determination, the way you matched him stride for stride through fields and forests.

The horns sounded, a clear, commanding call that echoed across the fields. The hounds sprang forward, their lean bodies surging across the estate, their howls filling the air with a primal energy. You urged your own horse to move, feeling the familiar rush of excitement as the wind whipped against your face, the ground blurring beneath you. 

San hadn’t expected to see you mounted on a horse with such a determined look in your eyes. The sight was a stark contrast to the reserved demeanor you usually displayed at social gatherings. As he watched you ride, he saw you weaving through the other hunters with practiced ease, your movements fluid and confident. The way you handled your horse, guiding it with subtle commands, spoke of a skill honed over years.

A thrill shot through him, an electric spark that danced along his skin, igniting a sense of admiration and curiosity. He found himself captivated by this facet of your personality, one that defied the quiet, unassuming image you were rumored to project.

Perhaps the wallflower has a brazen side to her, he mused.

The hounds had picked up a scent, their excited barks echoing through the forest. The riders spurred their horses forward, the thrill of the chase driving them on. You urged your horse to keep pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you navigated the dense underbrush.

Suddenly, a fallen branch blocked your path. You guided your horse to leap over it, the powerful muscles of the animal bunching beneath you as it soared through the air. You landed smoothly on the other side, the impact barely jarring as your horse’s hooves met the ground with practiced precision. 

A triumphant smile spread across your face, the exhilaration of the jump coursing through your veins. As you regained your stride, you noticed San riding alongside you, his eyes alight with admiration.

“Impressive,” he called out, his tone genuinely warm and filled with respect.

You gave him a small nod, acknowledging the compliment with a modest smile. The thrill of the moment spurred you on, and you surged forward with your horse, the wind whipping through your hair as you raced ahead. 

San matched your pace effortlessly, but confusion crossed his face once again. He had expected a verbal response, perhaps a playful retort or a shared laugh. Instead, your silence left him puzzled, wondering if he had misread the situation.

Eventually, the hunt drew to a close. The hounds had cornered their quarry, and the riders began to gather, their faces flushed with excitement. You dismounted, your legs slightly unsteady from the exertion. San was at your side in an instant, offering his arm for support.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, his voice soft and sincere. “Perhaps we could ride together again sometime,” San suggested, his tone hopeful.

You chuckled softly, trying to steady your racing heart. “That would be improper without a chaperone, Mr. Choi,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you pulled your hand away and turned to make your way back to your brother and mother.

San watched you go, a thoughtful smile lingering on his lips, knowing full well that he had caught a glimpse of something rare and untamed—a side of you that he would very much like to see again.

⊹

The day after the hunt dawned quietly, the morning light filtering through your window in soft, golden rays. You were beginning to settle into the rhythm of the day when a knock sounded at the door. One of the housemaids appeared in the doorway, looking slightly flustered.

“Miss, a delivery has arrived for you,” she announced, her eyes bright with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

“A delivery?” you repeated, setting down the book you were pretending to read. “For me?”

She nodded eagerly and stepped aside, revealing a young footman holding a large, exquisite bouquet of flowers—pink roses, rhododendrons, and geraniums, artfully arranged with sprigs of greenery and delicate baby’s breath.

You took the flowers gingerly, surprised by their weight and the intoxicating scent that enveloped you. For a moment, you were at a loss, glancing down at the arrangement with a mixture of confusion and wonder. Who could have sent these?

Your eyes caught sight of a small card nestled among the blooms. Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled it free, turning it over to read the neat, elegant script written on it:

“For the lady whose grace and spirit during the hunt were truly a sight to behold. –S.”

You could almost hear his voice in the words—the familiar teasing lilt, that infuriating hint of amusement that seemed to color everything he said. A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, but you quickly suppressed it, unsure of how you truly felt. Flattered? Irritated? Amused? Perhaps a confusing mix of all three.

“What is this?” your mother asked, appearing in the doorway.

“A gift,” you replied, “from Mr. Choi.”

Your mother’s eyes widened slightly, and she stepped forward, her hands clasping together in front of her. 

“Mr. Choi?” she repeated, her tone colored with intrigue. She paused, a contemplative look crossing her face, and you could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. “That is… unexpected.”

“Indeed,” you murmured, glancing back at the flowers. 

“Well,” she asked, her tone almost teasing, “will you respond?”

You sighed, feeling a familiar mix of exasperation and affection for the woman who always seemed to know how to unsettle you. You flopped back onto your bed, the springs creaking under your weight. 

“I suppose I should thank him,” you admitted, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

Your mother’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, a mischievous smile plastered across her face. “He has made quite a gesture, after all. It would be rude not to acknowledge it.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” you said, sitting up again. 

Moving to your writing desk, you dipped your quill into the inkwell. As the nib touched the paper, you paused, considering your words carefully. You knew you would have to strike a balance—a note that was gracious, but not too encouraging; polite, but with just enough edge to keep him guessing.

You hesitated, wondering if you should add something more, some playful remark that would remind him that you weren’t so easily won. But then, deciding that less was more, you signed your name with a flourish and sealed the letter with a small, satisfied smile.

“Mr. Choi–I must thank you for your most unexpected gift. Your thoughtfulness is noted. I trust you enjoyed the hunt as much as I did. Until we meet again.”

The Cromer Fair was a lively affair, bursting with color and sound. Brightly painted stalls lined the village green, offering everything from delicate ribbons and bolts of fabric to candied apples and steaming pies. The fair for all its charm, had become another stage for the intricate theater of high society.

Your family’s arrival, marked by the gleaming carriage, did not go unnoticed. Heads turned as you stepped down from the coach, drawing more attention to the elusive Wallflower. For weeks, whispers had circulated throughout the ton, their interest piqued not by scandal or intrigue, but by your notable absence from social gatherings. Your avoidance of the spotlight had, ironically, made you the subject of intense curiosity.

“Ms. Kang!” 

The sound caught your attention instantly, and there he was—San, standing just a few paces away, his expression alight with something close to joy. His smile was so easy and genuine that you felt the corners of your own mouth tugging upward, almost involuntarily.

He bowed slightly, though the gesture carried more charm than propriety. “I feared the fair would pass without the honor of seeing you.”

“Lady Kang,” he greeted your mother, his voice polite and measured.

“Choi,” Yeosang acknowledged curtly, his tone cool and formal. He inclined his head slightly, though there was no warmth in the gesture.

“Kang,” San replied, his eyes briefly meeting Yeosang’s before returning to you. There was a subtle challenge in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that hung in the air. Perceptive bastard, Yeosang thought as he rolled his eyes. 

“How lovely it is to see you here, Mr. Choi!” your mother exclaimed with a lilting laugh, the kind she reserved for smoothing over the awkwardness of situations she had orchestrated.

“Perhaps, a stroll might be in order? The fair has so much to offer, and it would be a shame to miss it.” 

Before you could respond, she continued, “Yeosang, dear, you’ll accompany your sister and Mr. Choi, won’t you? As her brother, it’s only proper.”

You and Yeosang exchanged a glance, dread mirrored in both your eyes. It wasn’t the usual look of sibling camaraderie but a shared expression of silent protest aimed squarely at your mother. You had no desire to go promenading with San, and Yeosang had even less interest in being dragged along as a chaperone.

“Of course,” he replied stiffly, his tone making it painfully clear this was not his preference.

“Wonderful!” your mother declared with a clap of her hands. “Make the most of it, dear. I’m certain Mr. Choi will make an excellent companion.”

“Mother!”

“Oh look, if it isn’t Duchess Jeong!” your mother interrupted without missing a beat, waving gracefully at Duke Jeong’s mother across the grounds. Before either of you could argue further, she glided away, leaving you and Yeosang standing frozen in her wake.

San looked to you, his dark eyes alight with curiosity and amusement, but your thoughts were already elsewhere, drawn by the promise of the fair’s treasures. As the three of you set off, he fell into step beside you.

“Is there anything in particular you’re hoping to see, Ms. Kang?”

You hesitated, glancing at your brother, whose expression seemed to silently dare you to say something frivolous. Deciding honesty wouldn’t hurt, you allowed a hint of excitement to creep into your tone. 

“I heard there’s a merchant with books from overseas,” you admitted. “With illustrations from distant lands.”

“Is that what excites you?” San’s lips curved into an easy smile, though his gaze lingered on you with a mix of curiosity and something else. Something more…thoughtful. 

“Absolutely,” you replied, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “Books are reliable and make their intentions clear. They don’t waste your time and if they bore you, you can close them and move on.”

There was a deliberate pause as your gaze lingered on his face, a silent question dancing in your eyes. Was he testing you, or simply trying to gauge how far he could go?

He leaned in slightly, as if daring to close the distance between you. “So, you prefer something that can’t surprise you? That can’t push you to think or feel beyond the words on the page?”

“Books surprise me all the time. They’re just more considerate about it. They don’t linger when they’re no longer wanted.”

His laughter came, soft and deep, but his gaze remained fixed on yours.

“And yet, you still let me linger.”

Your cheeks warmed at the unexpected retort, a telltale heat spreading that you struggled to suppress. You turned your head slightly, pretending to take an interest in a nearby stall, but the way your fingers fidgeted together betrayed your composure.

Just ahead, the foreign book merchant’s stall came into view, and you felt relief. Seizing the opportunity, you quickened your pace, using the excuse to put some distance between you and the weight of his attention.

“Here we are,” you announced, your tone just a bit too bright as you gestured to the vendor’s display. Books of every size and color were arranged in carefully balanced stacks, their worn spines hinting at untold stories and distant lands.

You stepped closer to the shelves, your fingers brushing over the embossed titles, pausing occasionally to pull a volume free and examine it. Your expression softened as you opened a leather-bound book, your eyes skimming the faded ink with quiet reverence.

San watched as you picked up another volume. The quiet focus in your movements seemed to draw him in, as if the bustling fair around you had melted into stillness. There was something captivating about the way you moved as though nothing else existed but the books in front of you.

Despite your best efforts to regain control of your thoughts, you could feel his presence just behind you. It made your steps falter slightly, and you cursed inwardly at your inability to maintain your cool. 

“You’re unusually quiet,” he remarked. Your gaze flitted to his, your heart betraying you with a slight quickening. 

“I wasn’t aware silence was such a novelty,” you replied, attempting to mask your unease with a touch of humor.

“It is, coming from someone who usually has such pointed opinions.” 

You rolled your eyes, handing him the book you’d just examined. “Hold this,” you said, your tone brisk but not unkind.

San blinked in surprise but complied, taking the book from your hands. His fingers brushed against the worn leather cover as he glanced down at it. Before he could comment, you had already moved on, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye.

“It seems books hold the secrets of the universe?” he teased lightly, approaching your side.

“They do, in a way,” you replied without looking at him, your attention fixed on the spines in front of you. Your fingers danced over the titles until you selected another volume, pulling it free and flipping through the pages.

“Every book is a door to somewhere new. You never know what you’ll find until you open it.”

“I see,” he murmured, though whatever witty retort he had in mind dissolved the moment you placed a second book atop the first in his arms. He chuckled softly, the teasing glint in his eyes softening as he watched you move with determination. 

“Isn’t that Mr. Choi?” a whisper came, the words carrying despite the attempt at discretion. 

“Is he courting Ms. Kang?”

San stiffened, his shoulders tightening as if bracing for impact. The muscles in his jaw tightened for a fraction of a second before he forced himself to relax. With a subtle shift, he angled his body to shield you from view, though his eyes flicked instinctively towards you.

You remained blissfully unaware, lost in the pages of your chosen book, your brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Whether the murmurs reached you or not, you gave no indication of noticing.

“They make for such an unusual…pair,” the other woman chimed in, her voice quieter but no less pointed. 

The first woman hummed in agreement. “Quite a step down from Dami, wouldn’t you say?”

“Dami was the diamond of her season,” the second woman added, a faint laugh in her voice, “but this…” She let the words hang, heavy with judgment.

“Perhaps she’s just…a distraction,” the first concluded with a theatrical sigh.

San’s grip on the books tightened slightly, the sharp edges pressing into his palms as their words sank in. He should have brushed them off, reminded himself of the role he was playing and the purpose behind it all. Yet their voices grated against him; not because of their dismissal of him, but because of the way they belittled you.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be anything more than a convenient prop, proof of what Dami had walked away from. 

But as you turned to show him the book, your eyes lit up with excitement. In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about Dami or the wager with Wooyoung.

All he could think about was you, standing before him, and how fond he was growing of you.

San leaned back in his chair, the rich scent of smoke curling around him like a veil. He held his cards in one hand, his other hand bringing the cigar to his mouth for a slow, deliberate puff. The ember at the tip glowed brighter as he inhaled, a flicker of fire against the dark backdrop of the room.

“How goes the wallflower?” Lord Park Seonghwa asked. The question was casual, almost offhand, but the sharp glint in his eye suggested he was more interested in the answer than he let on.

San studied his cards, his fingers tapping lightly against the worn edges. After a moment of silence, he flicked his gaze up to meet Lord Park’s.

“She’s…intriguing,” San replied at last, his voice carrying a hint of something more than mere curiosity. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching as it swirled and dissipated into the room. 

“Not as shy as others say she is. I’d say she has more thorns than petals.”

“Thorns can be dangerous, my friend,” Wooyoung mused, his gaze sharp as he considered San’s words. 

“Especially when they’re hidden beneath such a delicate facade.”

San’s smile didn’t waver, though a shadow passed over his features, too fleeting for most to catch. “Delicate things also have a way of surprising you when you least expect it.”

Wooyoung raised a brow. “Is that so?” 

“Might I remind you gentlemen that you’re playing with fire?” Duke Jeong Yunho interjected smoothly, his eyes never leaving the cards in his hand. 

“Kang Yeosang doesn’t take kindly to anyone who crosses his family.”

The room fell into a tense silence, save for the fire crackling softly, its light flickering in Yunho’s eyes as he finally looked up. The warning was unmistakable in his expression, a quiet but undeniable threat hanging in the air.

San’s gaze remained fixed on his cards, his mind clearly elsewhere as he processed Yunho’s warning. The Duke studied him for a moment longer than necessary, the silence thick challenge. It was a standoff of sorts, where neither words nor gestures were needed to communicate the rivalry between them.

Finally, with a slight nod, Yunho returned to his cards, signaling the end of the conversation. But the tension lingered, palpable and unresolved, hanging over the room.

As the days turned into weeks, San found himself increasingly torn between the thrill of the dare and the reality of his growing affection for you. He hadn’t expected you to be so different from what he imagined. 

“Mr. Choi–do you believe that ducks have the ability to ponder their existence?”

He stared at the words for a long moment, both amused and intrigued by the sheer randomness of the question, before dipping his pen into ink.

“Miss Kang—I assure you, if ducks ever stopped to ponder their existence, they would undoubtedly seize control of us all. That is, of course, assuming they’re capable of getting their ducks in a row.”

When this began, it was easy. You were charming in your own way, but he hadn’t been looking for depth. He hadn’t anticipated someone passionate, whose sharp wit and quiet strength captivated him.

San adjusted his cravat in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, his reflection offering no solace for the turmoil within. He knew he was treading dangerous waters. The more he allowed himself to feel, the harder it became to maintain the facade. 

He feared what would happen when the truth inevitably came to light; that his intentions had been born not from affection, but from a petty wager and desire to vindicate his pride. That he had approached you not as the woman you were, but as a means to an end. 

The thought haunted him. You deserved better than the lies he’d told, better than the man he had been when this all began. And yet, as much as he wanted to walk away and spare you the eventual heartbreak, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from wanting more. 

More of your company. More of your attention. More of you. 

The familiar strains of the musicians tuning their instruments floated through the ballroom. From the gilded mirrors that lined the walls to the chandeliers dripping with crystal, every detail of the Kang ballroom was a testament to opulence and sophistication. 

San, ever the charming gentleman, was acutely aware of the eyes that followed his every move. His colleagues and other potential admirers watched with barely concealed interest, some with jealousy, others with curiosity. They knew he was playing a game, but none knew the rules, least of all you.

As his gaze swept across the crowded room, searching for any sign of you, the lively chatter and watchful eyes faded into the background. Uncertainty crept in as he wondered where you had disappeared to.

Determined to find you, he stepped forward, his eyes darting toward the balcony doors and the faint glow of the gardens beyond. Perhaps you had retreated to steal a moment of solitude. The thought of you standing alone beneath the stars sent an inexplicable urgency coursing through him.

Just as he started toward the edge of the room, a hand brushed against his arm, halting him mid-step.

“San.”

The familiar voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned, startled to find Dami standing before him. Her expression was poised but not unreadable.

"May I have a word?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering over her shoulder in a final, searching sweep of the ballroom. A part of him wanted to dismiss her, to follow the thread of instinct that urged him to find you instead. But Dami’s presence demanded his attention, her tone leaving little room for refusal.

“Of course.”

⊹

The evening had been a whirlwind of forced smiles and polite exchanges, each interaction more draining than the last. The laughter and chatter of the crowded ballroom felt like a cacophony, grating on your nerves, and you had long since grown tired of the superficial conversations.

Seeking a moment of solitude, you slipped through a side door and into the garden, a quiet sanctuary away from the prying eyes of high society. You wandered along the gravel paths, the scent of night blooms filling the air. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a world where you weren’t bound by the rigid rules of propriety, where you could be free to live and love as you wished.

But that fleeting peace was abruptly interrupted when you heard voices nearby, muffled but unmistakably familiar.

“Was it worth it? Putting on this little act, dragging her along?” Dami’s voice was soft, almost sweet, as she glanced up at San with a tilt of her head.

“Don’t tell me you actually started to feel something for her.”

The silence that followed was excruciating, heavy and suffocating, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You leaned closer, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to make sense of what you were hearing, your breath hitching at the implications.

San froze, his body stiffening as if the question had struck him physically. His chest tightened, the weight of her words twisting in him like a blade. The confident smirk he had worn earlier faltered, dropping his gaze to the dim glow of the lanterns flickering around them.

“No.”

The single word cut through the air, sharp and final, and it shattered something inside you.

Dami’s lips curved into a triumphant smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. 

“We both know you don’t want her. You never did. You wanted to forget me. That’s all this was.”

Her gloved hand slid down his arm in a gesture that was both possessive and intimate. “What’s stopping us from trying again?”

“No more pathetic little wallflower,” she murmured, her voice dripping with disdain. 

“Terribly awkward and unsociable. The type doomed to spinsterhood.”

San let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and hollow as he shook his head. But he didn’t pull away from her touch.

“What did Wooyoung bet you?” Dami pressed, her curiosity sharp and pointed.

“That’s between us,” he teased, amused.

Your heart sank as you listened, your world crumbling around you. The man who sent you flowers, who had seemed to share a connection, had been playing a game all along.

How could you have been so foolish? How could you have let yourself believe that someone like him could genuinely care for someone like you? 

You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here, not now. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they had hurt you. But as you stood there, the anger began to build, simmering beneath the surface until it was impossible to contain. 

You couldn’t let San believe that his betrayal would go unnoticed, that his actions would have no consequences. With a surge of resolve, you stepped out from the shadows, making yourself known.

“Is this true?” you demanded, your voice quivering and strained.

You locked eyes with San, the man who had been at the center of it all, the one who had so effortlessly made you believe in the possibility of something more. But there was no explanation that could undo what he had done. 

“Y/N. I–” he stammered, his voice faltering as he grappled with the gravity of the situation.

“How dare you toy with my feelings because of your bruised ego? How dare you lead me to lay bare my vulnerabilities only to use them as fodder for your amusement?”

San flinched at the venom in your words, his face paling as the full impact of what he had done became impossible to ignore. 

“Y/N, please—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “Don’t try to justify this. Don’t try to tell me it wasn’t what it seemed. Because I heard you. I heard everything.”

For a moment, you stood there, breathing heavily, your chest heaving with the force of your emotions.

“You’ve shown me exactly who you are.” 

With one final look at San, you turned on your heel and walked away. You would not run, you would not flee into the night like some wounded animal. You would survive this. You would rise above it.

And you would show them all that you were not a wallflower to be trifled with.

“The Choi estate was partially burned last night,” Yeosang announced, stepping into the drawing room. His voice was tinged with urgency as he approached, the unopened letter a silent plea for attention. 

You ignored your brother and instead flipped the page of your book with deliberate nonchalance. “Send them my regards,” you bristled, your tone biting even as you maintained the pretense of calm. 

Yeosang sighed, clearly grappling with how best to navigate this unexpected development. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of his tells when he was deeply troubled. 

“They’re seeking refuge with extended friends and relatives while the estate is restored,” he explained softly. His eyes lingered on you, gauging your reaction as he placed the envelope on the table before you. The Choi family’s wax seal, a delicate emblem of the mountains and skies, seemed a fragile echo of their former prestige.

“Y/N,” Yeosang’s voice softened, almost pleading. 

“Brother,” you replied, finally looking up from your book. The skepticism in your voice was as much a defense mechanism as the sarcasm you’d laced it with. 

“They’re desperate,” Yeosang admitted. “The accident has left them with little choice.”

“How unfortunate,” you replied flatly. “Perhaps the Viscount should have ensured his household wasn’t a tinderbox waiting for disaster. Foolishness, it seems, runs in their blood.”

The words were more cutting than you had intended, but you didn’t regret them. The Choi’s predicament, though dire, was of their own making, and the idea that they would try to drag your family into their mess infuriated you. 

“The Viscount is invoking a favor as a friend to father.”

“Our late father’s generosity does not extend to negligence or recklessness,” you retorted, leaning back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“And it certainly does not extend to housing strays.”

The tree branch creaked under your weight as you settled higher up, your legs dangling lazily over the edge. The letter from the Choi family had been too much to bear, its contents so suffocating that you bolted, preferring to become a sister of St. Hala to sharing a roof with Choi San.

How convenient it must be for them, you mused bitterly, to seek sanctuary now, when it was their own schemes that had caused this debacle. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of horses' hooves, faint at first, then growing louder as they drew closer. You peered through the branches and spotted Yeosang and Yunho riding toward the estate. 

You swung your legs back over the branch, debating the best way to descend without completely embarrassing yourself. Grabbing your sack, you decided to toss it to the ground first but miscalculated when it veered too far to the right and smacked Yeosang in the head.

“Y/N!” your brother barked. 

Ignoring his swears, you began shimmying down the tree, carefully testing each branch to balance your weight. But as usual, fate had other plans. Your foot slipped, and you let out a startled gasp, flailing for the nearest branch. Gravity claimed you, sending you tumbling through the air until a pair of strong arms caught you mid fall.

“Careful there, Lucifer,” Yunho laughed, steadying you in his arms. 

You blinked up at him, momentarily dazed. His arms were firm around you, and the absurdity of the situation hit you all at once. You, tangled in Yunho’s arms, looking thoroughly disheveled from your grand escape attempt.

“Foiling my plans to destroy the heavens, as always,” you groaned, your face flushing with embarrassment as you pulled yourself away from him. 

“If this is your idea of a divine rebellion, might I suggest conquering climbing first,” he chuckled. 

Yeosang dismounted his horse with quiet fury, stalking towards you. He held your sack, his knuckles white against the worn fabric, as if it were the root of all his troubles.

“Running away?” 

You crossed your arms, lifting your chin defiantly despite the fact that your hair was likely a mess and your clothes bore the evidence of your failed escape. 

“Yes,” you replied coolly, “but I thought it only polite to bid you and Yunho farewell before committing myself to St. Hala.”

His grip on the sack tightened, his knuckles standing out starkly as he muttered under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like, “Why am I related to this lunatic?” He exhaled sharply, as if forcing himself to rein in his frustration.

“Do you ever stop to think, or is recklessness a natural talent of yours?”

You glared at him, refusing to back down. “I could say the same about you, brother, for not understanding the brilliance of letting vipers into the nest.” 

“I’m doing what’s necessary to fulfill a promise between father and the viscount! Do you know what it meant to father to keep his word? A bond of trust that defined him and our family!”

“And yet here you are, jeopardizing all of it by letting them crawl closer! A promise to the viscount doesn’t mean we have to blindly—”

“There she is!”

Both of you froze as your mother swept onto the scene, flanked by Anna, and her husband Jason, the head groundskeeper. Jason’s expression left no doubt he was prepared to intervene if necessary, unlike poor Joe. 

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, darting behind Yunho in a desperate attempt to escape. But Jason, faster and far stronger than Joe, easily caught up to you. His firm grip closed around your arm, leaving no room for negotiation.

“Not another word,” your mother hissed, her voice icy enough to freeze the air around her.

Yeosang, who had momentarily been forgotten in the chaos, muttered something unintelligible, as your mother grabbed your free arm with an iron grip.

“I’m not going back there!” you shouted, your voice echoing across the grounds as Jason and your mother began dragging you toward the estate. 

Behind you, Yunho chuckled softly, falling into step with the chaotic procession. His easy going demeanor only added to your frustration. 

“Yunho, don’t just stand there!” you snapped, trying to twist out of Jason’s hold. “Help me!”

From the drawing room, San watched the commotion unfold, his arms crossed, though the faint smirk that once might have graced his lips was absent. Instead, his expression was tense, his brows drawing together as his dark eyes followed your every move.

There had been a time when he might have chuckled at the sight, teasing you later about your theatrics or making some sly remark about your temperament. But now, the thought of doing so felt hollow, wrong even. 

He told himself you hated him, and maybe you did. Maybe you always would. And yet, as much as he tried to accept that as his punishment, the thought of it gutted him.

All he could think about was ways to reach out to you, ways to fix what he’d broken. But how could he even begin? What could he possibly say to undo the harm he’d caused?

He found himself hoping desperately that fate might grant him a second chance. A chance to make amends, to prove that he was more than his mistakes.

Because if it wasn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself.

Two

taglist: @e3ellie @scuzmunkie @syubseokie @sunnysidesins

@notevenheretbh1 @litolmochi @intowxnderland @etaerealboy

@foxinnie8 @sanriomilk @kang-ulzzang @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

@vcutparis @ishz @park-simphwa @moonsanshine @drinkingrumandcocacola

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part 20)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Smut

Just as you had finally found a casual dress to wear and were about to put on some make-up, there was a knock at the door that jolted you from your thoughts.

"Y/N?" Cillian's voice broke through from the other side of the door, laced with an urgency that sent your heart racing. You swallowed hard, glancing at the mirror one last time before you opened the door.

"Yes?" you asked as you saw Cillian standing there, tension radiating from him, his brow furrowed.

"I need to talk to you," he declared, his voice low but firm.

You opened the door wider, letting him inside, the warmth of your apartment contrasting with the storm brewing in his eyes.

"What's up?" you asked as soon as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a resolute click.

"I heard about your dinner with Barry tonight," he cut straight to the point, his jaw tightening. "And I think that you shouldn't be going out with him."

A sharp breath caught in your throat.

"And why not?" you asked as you crossed your arms, defiance sparking within as you took a step back, the heat of the moment igniting an argument.

Cillian ran a hand through his hair, frustration visible in the tight lines of his face. "He's not right for you and I don't want you to screw up your career by hooking up with him or another actor on set." 

"Well, for starters, I wasn't going to hook up with him but, even if I was going to, what business is it of yours?" you asked him with your arms still crossed tightly, daring him to challenge you.

"I am a producer of the movie and it is my business when...," Cillian began but you cut him off.

"Don't even start this conversation as though you actually care about the rules, Cillian," you retorted, fire flashing in your eyes. "You broke them yourself by sleeping with me, didn't you?" you said, anger simmering in your chest, eyes locked on his. It was a low blow, you knew it, but you couldn't help it. The words tumbled out, fueled by a mix of frustration and the raw, exposed emotions that had been building up inside you.

"That's different and you know it," Cillian countered, his voice tight, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something else—pain, perhaps. 

You scoffed, the sound bitter and harsh. "How is it different Cillian?" you challenged, your voice rising despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "You slept with me while we were already working together, so how is that any less of a mess than me going out with Barry? You're a hypocrite, Cillian. You can't tell me what to do when you're doing the same thing."

Cillian's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Alright, he said, his voice low and controlled. "You're right. I did break the rules, and I shouldn't be lecturing you about them. But this is different, Y/N. Barry is... he's not good for you. He's got a reputation," Cillian tried to argue but you knew what the real issue was. He was jealous.  You could see it in the way his eyes flashed, in the tight set of his jaw. He was jealous, and it sent a thrill through you, a dangerous, exhilarating sensation that made your heart race.

You took a step closer, your voice softening as you challenged him. "You know what I think the problem is here?"  you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped closer to him, your eyes locked onto his. "I think you're jealous."

Cillian's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly masked it with a scowl. "Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, but the heat in his voice betrayed him.

You smirked, taking another step closer, your voice a low purr. "Am I? Because it sure seems like it to me. You're not worried about my career, Cillian. You're worried about me being with someone else."

Cillian's jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts.

When he looked back at you, his eyes were stormy, a mix of frustration and something else—something darker, more primal. "Fine, maybe I am," he admitted, his voice low and gruff. "But that doesn't change the fact that Barry is bad news. He's a great actor and a nice guy, but he is also player, Y/N. He'll use you and toss you aside. I don't want to see you get hurt."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what about you then? Didn't you  use me and toss me aside?" you asked, your voice soft but laced with a challenge. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his desire for you and his guilt over the situation.

"You know I had no choice and you know very well that we can't actually be together, right?"  Cillian's voice was low, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I have a family, Y/N. I have responsibilities. This... what we have, it's complicated and messy, and I cannot promise you anything," Cillian said, his voice heavy with regret and longing. "But I also can't stand the thought of you with someone else, either. It's selfish, I know. But I can't help it."

You took a deep breath, your heart aching at his words. You knew he was right—this was complicated, messy, and ultimately doomed. But you also knew that you couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop wanting him. And seeing him like this, vulnerable and honest, only made it worse.

"I never asked you to make me any promises Cillian,"  you whispered, your voice soft and gentle, your fingers trailing down his arm. "I never expected anything from you. I knew what I was getting into. I knew the risks. I knew the consequences. I just... I don't like you pushing me away and that's exactly what you have been doing this past week,"  you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped even closer, your breath mingling with his. "I know this is complicated, and I know it's messy. But I also know what I feel when I'm with you, Cillian. And I can't just turn that off because it's convenient or because it's what's expected of us."

Cillian's eyes softened, the storm in them slowly dissipating, replaced by a warmth that made your heart flutter. He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. "Y/N, I—" he started. "I can't turn that off either," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we are playing with fire here and both know that. And eventually, someone is going to get burned."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew he was right, but you also knew that you couldn't walk away. Not yet. Not until you had to.

Cillian's hand dropped from your cheek, his fingers tangling with yours as he took a step closer, his breath warm on your skin. "I can't promise you anything, Y/N. I can't promise you a future, or a happily ever after. It's just not on the cards,"  Cillian said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes locked onto yours. 

"Then don't. Just don't promise me anything," you whispered, your voice barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat of his body, the electricity that sparked between you, and you knew that you were playing with fire. But you also knew that you couldn't resist him, not anymore. "I can't promise you a future either, Cillian, but I still want to be with you, and I think there is nothing wrong with living in the moment if we are smart about it," you added, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. 

"Y/N," Cillian objected  , his voice barely a whisper, his eyes searching yours, the intensity in his gaze making your heart race. "You're too young to be involved in this mess. You deserve better than this." 

You scoffed softly, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Better than what, Cillian? Better than being with someone who makes me feel alive?" you asked, your voice soft but firm. "I mean, I know it's fucked up because you are my best friend's father, but I like being with you and, even if nothing ever comes of this, I want to experience it while I can. I want to feel this," you added, your voice barely above a whisper as you took a step closer, your eyes locked onto his. "I want to feel everything with you, Cillian. I don't want to miss out on this because we're too scared of what might happen," you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you.

Cillian's eyes searched yours, a mix of emotions flickering in their depths.

You could see the struggle within him, the battle between his desires and his responsibilities. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke,  "Fuck Y/N. You know I can't stay away from you." 

You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Yeah, I have noticed," you said, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes locked onto his and, as you did, Cillian's eyes darkened, the storm within him brewing and, before you knew it, he had grabbed you by the hips and pulled you against him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a fierce, hungry kiss.

You gasped , your body melting against his as his tongue invaded your mouth, exploring and claiming, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"I want you so much Y/N, you have no fucking idea ," he growled into your mouth, his voice low and primal, his body pressing against yours.

You moaned into his kiss, your body responding to his touch, your nipples hardening against his chest. "I think I have some idea," you breathed, your voice husky with desire as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands slid from your hips to your ass, squeezing and kneading, pulling you tighter against him, his cock hard and insistent against your stomach already now, which surely did not take long.

"If we are going to do this, no one can know," he whispered against your mouth, his voice rough with lust and desperation. "We have to be careful, Y/N. We can't let anyone find out about us for a very long time." 

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as you ran your hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath his shirt. "I know," you whispered back, your voice barely audible. "I know we have to be careful."

Cillian's hands gripped your ass tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, his mouth never leaving yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

You could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his cock pressing against you, and you knew that you were in for a wild ride. As he laid you down on the bed, his body covering yours, you could feel the weight of him, the strength in his muscles, and you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Cillian's hands roamed your body, his touch firm and possessive as he explored every curve, every inch of your skin. You moaned into his kiss, your body arching against his, seeking more of his touch.

"You need to tell Barry that you aren't coming to dinner,"  Cillian growled, his voice low and demanding as he trailed hot, wet kisses down your neck, his stubble rough against your skin.

"Oh shit, I had forgotten about him already," you gasped, your head falling back to give him better access, your body already aching with need.

"Just tell him you're busy," he insisted, his teeth grazing your collarbone, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"Fine," you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'll text him. Just don't stop," you gasped, your body writhing beneath him, your hips grinding against his cock, the thick, hard length of him pressing against your clit through the layers of our clothes.

While you reached for your phone  to message Barry, Cillian's fingers found the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over your head, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your breasts, barely contained in your lace bra.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his voice low and primal as he leaned down, his mouth capturing one of your nipples through the lace, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core while you tried to text Barry. 

After you sent the message, the phone fell out of your hands and landed on the bed and you did not care. He was too busy kissing and sucking your breasts, his hands roaming over your body. 

"Oh god, Cillian," you gasped, your body arching off the bed, pressing against him while he tried to take off his t-shirt.  "I need you to fuck me , please," you begged, your voice breathless and desperate as you watched him take off his t-shirt. 

Cillian's eyes darkened with lust, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free, hard and thick, the head glistening with pre-cum. You reached out, your fingers wrapping around his shaft, stroking him gently, feeling the velvety softness of his skin, the hardness beneath.

"Take off your panties," he ordered, his voice a low growl as he ripped the lace bra off you, tossing it aside.

You quickly complied, shimmying out of your underwear, your body aching with need. Cillian's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, bare and exposed, your legs spread wide for him. He groaned, his cock twitching in your hand, a drop of pre-cum beading at the tip.

"Fuck, you're so wet already," he growled, his fingers trailing down your stomach, his thumb circling your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You moaned, your hips bucking against his touch, your body aching for more.

"Cillian, please," you begged, your voice breathless and desperate. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you."

Cillian's eyes darkened with lust, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your wet folds. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, his eyes locked onto yours, a challenge in his gaze.

"God, yes," you moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "I want you to fuck me, Cillian. I want you to fuck me hard," you demanded, your voice laced with desperation and need. "I want to feel every inch of you inside me."

Cillian's eyes flashed with hunger, his jaw clenching as he slowly pushed into you, the head of his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. You gasped, your back arching off the bed, your body accommodating his size, the sensation of being filled by him again overwhelming and intense.

"Fuck, you feel good," he groaned, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips thrusting against yours, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, despite your tightness.

"So do you ," you gasped, your nails digging into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Harder, Cillian. Fuck me harder."

Cillian's eyes darkened, a low growl escaping his throat as he complied, his hips snapping against yours, his cock pounding into you with a force that stole your breath. The bed creaked and groaned beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall with each brutal thrust. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, a raw, primal symphony that sent shivers of pleasure down your spine.

Cillian's body was slick with sweat, his muscles tensed and flexing with each powerful thrust. You could feel every inch of him, the thick, hard length of his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that made your toes curl and your vision blur.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cillian grunted, his voice low and strained, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through you. 

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him, your hips meeting his thrusts with equal force.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chanted, your voice breathless and desperate. "Just like that, Cillian. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

Cillian's eyes were wild, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pounded into you, his muscles tensed and flexing. "I won't stop," he grunted, his voice low and primal. "I can't stop. You feel too fucking good."

You reached up, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him down to you, your lips crashing against his in a fierce, hungry kiss.

His mouth was hot and demanding, his tongue invading your mouth, exploring, claiming. You could taste the salt of his sweat, the faint hint of mint on his breath, and it only served to heighten your arousal. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place as he pounded into you, his cock sliding in and out of your wet, eager pussy with ease.

The room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the wet, obscene sounds of sex, the low, primal grunts and moans that escaped from both of your throats.

It didn't last long. It was as if  the room had been set on fire and the two of you were the flames. You could feel it in the way his body moved against yours, the way his muscles tensed and flexed with each powerful thrust. You could see it in the way his eyes darkened, the way his breath came in ragged gasps, the way his jaw clenched with each grunt of pleasure. You could hear it in the way his voice grew hoarse, the way his words became more and more desperate, more and more filthy.

Him fucking you like this, raw and primal, made you cum  hard and fast. You could feel your orgasm building, a coil of tension deep in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

"That's it, Y/N," Cillian grunted, his voice low and strained, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through you. "Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a low growl as he pounded into you, his cock sliding in and out of your wet, eager pussy with ease.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him, your hips meeting his thrusts with equal force. "I'm close," you gasped, your voice breathless and desperate. "So close, Cillian. Just a little more." You panted, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm until, after ten minutes or so, you came.

It was explosive, your body convulsing around him, your inner walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking him for all he was worth. You screamed his name, your voice raw and desperate, your body arching off the bed, pressing against him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. "Cillian! Fuck, Cillian, I'm cumming!" you cried out, your voice hoarse with exertion, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Cillian's eyes darkened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched you cum, his cock still pounding into you, his hips moving faster, his body tensing as he chased his own release.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted, his voice low and strained. "You're so fucking beautiful when you cum. I can't get enough of you," he groaned just before, he too, climaxed.  His body tensed, his muscles flexing as he drove into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside you, filling you with his hot, sticky seed. You could feel every jet of it, the warmth spreading inside you, marking you as his.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted, his voice low and strained, his body shaking with the force of his release. "You feel so fucking good."

You moaned, your body milking him, your inner walls clenching tightly around his cock, drawing out every last drop of his cum.

Cillian collapsed on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, the steady rhythm a soothing lullaby after the storm of your passion. His cock was still hard inside you, pulsing with the remnants of his release, and you couldn't help but clench around him again, drawing a low groan from his throat.

"You're going to fucking kill me, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and husky, his lips brushing against your ear and you knew that this was just the first of many times that night.

As you were up to your third time however, there was another knock on the door to your tiny studio apartment.

It was a light tap, but it was enough to make you both freeze, your bodies still entwined, hearts pounding in sync. Cillian's eyes widened, and he quickly pulled out of you, his cock still glistening with your combined releases. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Cillian, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Y/N, it's Barry," came the voice from the other side of the door. It was soft and gentle, but it cut through the air like a knife.

Cillian's eyes widened as he looked at you, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Did you text him?" he asked, his voice low and desperate, his eyes searching yours. "I thought you had texted him."

"I did," you whispered back, your voice barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest. "I swear, I did. He shouldn't be here."

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[loveritas]

Kinktober Day 20 - Breath play with Suguru Geto

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), pnv (unprotected), creampie, breath play

₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 1.3k

a/n: guys i actually managed to write something short & without plot, i find that hard to do but i'm behind soo...also this is the worst thing i've ever written, normal standard will be back hopefully soon. (praying no mutuals see this because i cannot with this one)

Suguru's fingers wrap around your throat, pressing down firmly with a tenderness that runs down your spine. It intoxicates you to feel his hold of you, the quickening of your heartbeat beneath his fingertips. With each thrust he tightens just enough that your breath catches, creating a tension that raises your arousal.

You're poised on the brink, the world reduced to the two of you. Each time he closes off your air, your senses heighten; colours appear brighter, sounds louder. You gasp as he cuts off your air again briefly, a burning need for oxygen sets in through your lungs. Each time he loosens his hold, a flood of air rushes in, at the same time a wave of pleasure washes over you.

You lean into him, hands bracing on his chest as you grind against him, taking him deeper. Your walls hug his cock in a perfect hold and every move fuels the desire building inside. He tightens his hold on your throat slightly, cutting off the air for a few seconds before letting you go. You gasp and moan in a wanton display, the oxygen deprivation increasing every sensation, each pulse of pleasure.

You ride Suguru mercilessly, lost in the haze of passion, wringing every drop of pleasure from his body. His cock fills you completely, hitting all the right spots, urging you to let go completely.

"That's it, take it all," Suguru growls, his hips snapping up to meet your downward slams. "God-look at you-"

The mix of vulnerability and submission courses through your body with a thrill, deeper into this intoxicating moment. You're caught in between the sensations, craving both the pressure of his hand and the release after.

And each time he draws you back from the precipice, that electric thrill which courses through you makes every instant heady with desire and danger, pushing you further.

The longing between the two of you is palpable, the pent-up energy thrumming with each thrust. Suguru's fingers remain wrapped around your throat, constant reminders of his dominance, as you feel your body shamelessly responding to every touch. With every upward thrust, he deepens his control, taking you into the rhythm that's both exhilarating and intoxicating.

The pleasure rises inside of you with every bounce on his cock. Suguru's hold tightens, constricting just enough for stars to dance across your vision and blur the edges of ecstasy into surrender. Every second of breathlessness focuses your senses; everything outside recedes, and all that exists is him and the intoxicating pressure that wraps around you.

"Feel that?" Suguru growls his low, gravelly voice, the words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "All mine- You're all mine." His words whisper in your ear, fire igniting within your belly. You nod breathlessly; the thrum of submission melding with intoxicating pleasure as his cock fills you completely.

As you lean forward, pressing your chest against him, he loosens his grip slightly-just enough for you to take a breath-and you inhale sharply, the lingering spice of arousal dancing on your tongue. It fuels you, driving you onward-faster, harder-revelling in the delicious blend of pleasure and danger. You can feel your orgasm building, a sweet tension coiling tighter within you, waiting for the right moment to snap.

Suguru's hips buck upwards with raw intensity, moving to the rhythm you set for him. His fingers dance along your throat in a tender, loving way. And every time he shuts off your air, your body surges with a wave of adrenaline, sending electric jolts from head to toe, making you breathless, wanting even more.

"Please," you gasp, your need barely intelligible, but he knows-he always knows. His eyes sparkle in that playful manner that belies his control and your vulnerability, furthering the intoxicating dance.

"Please what?" he teases, his grip tightening once more. "Tell me how much you need it."

The words catch in your throat, but you manage to gasp, "I need you- I need to come." The confession tumbles out, and Suguru's eyes darken with satisfaction. He releases his hold, and a gush of air fills your lungs. mingling with the pleasure already rising in your body.

"Good girl," he whispers in a voice husky and gruff, shoving you closer to the brink. The praise sends a shiver down your spine as you quicken your pace.

The world around you spins, a blur of colour and sensation with every thrust and the feel of his hand firm around your throat. With each movement, waves of pleasure fire within you, fireworks going off behind your closed eyes. His hold keeps you steady as he draws you deeper into the delicate balance of power and surrender where everything feels right.

The mix of desire and danger courses through you, each wave pulling you closer to the edge. And you let go, lost in a whirlwind of sensations, the world fading, narrowing down to just you and Suguru-nothing else matters but this.

His voice is low in your ear, "Come for me, pretty girl. Let go." It was both a command and a promise, urging you to let go.

Your breath comes in jagged intakes, shortened with each tight press of his hand on your throat. The pleasure inside you builds, spiralling tighter with every passing moment, threatening to snap.

Suguru's grip tightens, his fingers pressing just enough. That and the steady rhythm of his movements push you right to the edge-balancing between control and release.

With one final deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. His body shudders hard as he finds his release. The warmth of his cum floods through you, and it's all you need to tip over the edge. Pleasure hits you in waves as you cling to him, your body shaky as you’re overwhelmed by the intensity.

As the aftershocks begin to subside, he releases his grip on your throat entirely to let you breathe deep and gratefully. The air rushes in as the world swims slowly back into focus. The cool air is refreshing, contrasting to the heat of his body that still surrounds you, anchoring you to the moment with him.

You inhale against his neck, the smell of him overwhelming your senses as well as the scent of sex still lingering in the air, as the moment drifts into a quiet, serene afterglow.

Suguru lifts his head as his eyes lock onto yours-an intensity that sends your heart fluttering. Purple eyes glinting as he smiles at you. It’s a satisfied smile as he enjoys the stillness, savouring this connection with you.

The faint, steady pulse of him inside you is a reminder that you’re still connected. 

"My good girl," he says softly, his thumb grazing your cheek with a delicacy so sharp in contrast to his demeanour only a few moments before. The words leave a shiver running down your spine, a flicker of lingering desire sparkling in you as you slowly spiral down from your high.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asks, his lips lifting in a smirk, his tone laced with playfulness. His hand remains on your body, tracing up your sides and along your curves as if he were trying to commit them to memory.

"More than I can tell," you whisper, your voice hoarse yet sincere, still wrapped in the vulnerability of it all.

"Good." His expression gentles in approval, and he draws you closer, wrapping you in the warmth of his body. "I love you."

Your heart swells at his words, "I love you too," you say softly as you bury your face against Suguru once again, basking in the love you two share.

taglist:

@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri @williamafton26

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead @szired @wastednightsonyou

© lovesculprit ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[jymwahuwu]

Last one was great!

Poor arrogant reader soon will be fired from her position as head of the Family for some fabricated case, she is now basically jobless with all her belongings and money arrested and guards are not letting her leave Penacony.

She is such a mess now, so stresssed out with her career ruined she isnt even noticing that she hadnt got her period for several months.

But who will she come for help, who will accept a mess like her at such low point of her life?🤔

Of course our angelic prick will take her in. Reader doesnt have a choice to be honest. She doesnt have money to pay for shelter, food and medical care for her condition anymore?

I also hc Penacony being really expensive place especially in terms of healthcare. And abortions are strictly prohibited.

Well, clean house, homemade meals and some other nightly services could cover those expences. Our arrogant girlie will have to humble herself a bit.

And kid being born out of wedlock? Not on Sunday's watch!

Imagine some time later her former coworkers, heads of other Families or her former subordinates witnessing reader going out for groceries or just going out for a walk with Sunday holding her hand firmly?

She does not seems like arrogant bitch anymore, her belly is swollen, clothes are modest, matching rings at couple's fingers.

so sorry for the long delay in replying!!

I've been meaning to find the time to write this... and thank you for writing it in such detail. super love the content about arrogant reader get humiliated. this is awesome 😽💗💖 sunday brings it all to you but you started it first, right?

part 1

cw: yandere, dub-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, pregnancy, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)

Sunday used to always forgive your arrogance and intrigue, but that's the past.

Since you like this trick so much, Sunday brings these back to you. In this dreamy and fallen city, your reputation is completely destroyed in half an hour. (He was at the party, shaking his glass and socializing with the guests.) Some Bloodhound family guards burst into your office and led you away , in full view of everyone and a lot of chatter. They grabbed your hands and dragged you forward. (He stretched his hands into fists, put them to his lips and chuckled.) It was almost a crime of betrayal to Xipe and The Family. Listen to harsh words and sign documents. (The money ejected from the machine flies into the sky. The scale of the clock is turning.)

These days of interrogation have left you exhausted. One day, you open the door to your home with the usual verification, but there is a notice on the door that it has been sealed and frozen. That was locked and confiscated. A cold stab of fear stabbed your back. There is no way to book a hotel room or rent a new house. Your bank account is also blocked.

The final straw is the realization that you haven't had your period in months. Used the last of your credit points to take a pregnancy test. The result is a baby growing inside you. There was no doubt that it was that wing bastard's baby. A baby destined to have a halo and wings.

Your eyes were sore, and tears welled up in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks.

The eyes of birds these days are staring at you from every height, corner, and alley. Your pregnancy test results are sent to Sunday's phone. His glove patted your back gently. He whispers to you, the aura continuing to send out gentle waves, shushing you. You whimpered, pushing him away in annoyance. "Get away, you bastard!"

"I just did to you what you've always wanted to do to me. Don't make a fuss." The rising corners of the oak leader's mouth only added fuel to his raging anger at you. What happened to him? He's really terrible! You point at him and take a few steps back. "Don't fucking touch me! You hypocrite."

He frowned.

"No swearing."

"What the fuck-" Just like last time, a cheerful and harmonious arrangement of notes penetrated your mind. That ethereal and strange light appears before your eyes and captures your thoughts. You obediently followed Sunday to his mansion.

What Sunday offers you comes at a price. He provided for you, after all, didn't he? You can no longer be so arbitrary, arrogant and rude. You need to pray at the dinner table, kiss him on the cheek, and be grateful to Xipe and the nutritious food he provides you. Or have him pinch your cheeks and feed you. Now that you have no job and no money, you should have time to sweep the floor, right? Keeping the house tidy is important. He checked the dust on the vase and scanned the floor. Of course don’t forget to suck his cock and spread your legs at night. He will be very, very careful. (Sex during pregnancy is always slow. You whimper when milk is secreted from your buds.)

And witnessing that humiliation! Yes, in the past, you and he competed in the workplace, and the atmosphere was tense. Everyone knows you hate Sunday. And now other family members can see the changes in you. You held his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers with your belly swollen. Those luxurious clothes of the past have disappeared, replaced by your simple, loose skirts.

[billiesbabygirleilish]

Strings of Fate pt. 2

pt.1

*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

*.*.*.*.*➳➳➳➳➳┄┄🎸┄┄➳➳➳➳➳.*.*.*.*.*

The silence stretched, thick and charged, between you and Billie at the after-party. Every brush of her arm against yours, every prolonged eye contact, was a spark threatening to ignite. The bass thumped through your chest, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of your heart.

You found yourself cornered near the bar, Finnas and Claudia engaged in a deep conversation beside you. Billie, sensing your momentary entrapment, swooped in, her eyes alight with mischief.

“Saving you from the in-laws?” she murmured, close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath on your ear.

“Something like that,” you chuckled, a nervous flutter in your stomach.

“Come on,” she said, tugging gently on your hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Without a word to anyone, Billie led you out of the club, the blaring music fading as you stepped into the cool night air. A black Escalade idled at the curb, its windows tinted. She opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

As the car pulled away, leaving the flashing lights and pulsating energy behind, you felt a different kind of anticipation building. The drive to Billie's house was short, but the intensity grew with every passing mile. The city lights blurred through the window, mirroring the swirling vortex of emotions inside you.

The house was surprisingly quiet, a minimalist sanctuary away from the chaos of her life. She led you up the stairs to her bedroom, the air growing lighter with vanilla as she opened the door, the scent of her amplified in the enclosed space. The room glowed softly, illuminated by fairy lights strung across the ceiling, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Billie turned to face you, her eyes searching your face. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “This is happening. Are you… sure?”

You stepped closer, cupping her face in your hands. “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, her gaze locking with yours. She reached out and gently unbuttoned the top button of your shirt, her fingertips brushing against your skin. The electricity between you was palpable, a live wire humming with desire.

The next hours unfolded in a haze of touch and taste and whispered words. The clothes disappeared somewhere along the line. Her hands moved with a confident grace, exploring every curve and hollow of your body. Your own hands roamed over her, tracing the lines of her tattoos, reveling in the soft skin and the subtle strength beneath.

The kisses were slow and deliberate at first, a delicious exploration of each other's mouths. Then, they turned frantic, urgent, a desperate need to get closer, to merge into one. You wrapped your legs around her waist as she lifted you, pressing you against the wall, her hips grinding against yours. You moaned, the sound lost in the darkness.

She tasted like Aquaphor and mint gum, a combination that shouldn't have worked but somehow did, fueling the fire that raged between you. Her fingers dug into your back, urging you closer as she kissed a path down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

The climax was a raw, seismic eruption, a release of pent-up tension that left you breathless and trembling. You clung to her, your bodies slick with sweat, the world spinning around you.

After, you lay tangled together in the soft sheets, the only sound the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. Billie propped herself up on an elbow, gazing down at you, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Wow," she breathed, her voice husky with satisfaction.

You smiled back. "Yeah, wow."

She gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "Are you okay?"

"More than okay," you murmured, nuzzling into her shoulder. "That was… incredible."

Billie continued to run her fingers through your hair, tracing small circles on your back. "Good. That's good."

She pulled the covers up around you both, cocooning you in a warm embrace. She kissed your forehead, a soft, tender gesture that spoke volumes.

"Let's just stay here for a while," she whispered, her voice laced with a vulnerability you hadn't heard before.

You nodded, snuggling closer. The adrenaline slowly faded, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and connection. You felt safe, cherished, truly seen.

Billie continued to stroke your hair, occasionally humming softly. After a while, she spoke again, her voice quiet.

"Do you want anything?" she asked. "Water? Food? Cuddles?"

"All of the above," you mumbled, your eyes already drifting closed.

She chuckled. "I can do that. Cuddles first, though."

She wrapped her arms tighter around you, holding you close as you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved in her embrace.

Hours later, you awoke to Billie gently shaking you. "Hey," she murmured. "You okay? You were kinda restless."

"Just a dream," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

"Want to talk about it?"

You shook your head. "Nah. Just glad you're here."

Billie smiled and scooted closer. "Always."

"Also," you mumbled. "I'm hungry."

Billie laughed. "I figured. I ordered us some pizza."

You grinned, "You're the best."

"I know," she said with a smirk. "Want to watch a movie while we wait?"

You nodded, snuggling into her side. "That sounds perfect." As you sat there, wrapped in Billie's arms, a movie playing softly in the background, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the weird, wonderful, and unpredictable turn your life had taken. And you knew, deep down, that whatever happened next, you would face it together.