#like fr i will never say no to a plot

[anniesuriya]

(DAVIKA HOORNE, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER) Oh, is that ANYA "ANNIE" SURIYA? I heard the THIRTY year old is RESOURCEFUL. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also GUARDED. Makes sense seeing how they are a TECH in the THE SOCIETY gang. (lune, 30+, she/her, est)

I. FACTS

full name — anya suriya

nicknames — annie

age — thirty

gender/pronouns — cis female, she/her/hers

orientation — bisexual

birthday — nov. 16

zodiac — scorpio

birthplace — bangkok, thailand

ethnicity — 1/2 thai, 1/2 white (belgian, english, german)

languages spoken — english & thai

height — 5’9

hair color — brown

eye color — brown

scars — various light scars on her fingers from a lifetime of tinkering, a burn mark on her right hand from trying to make a birthday dinner for her mother & spilling hot oil, a scar on her left leg from a knife fight, small scar on her jawline from falling off of a bike as a kid

tattoos — dragon on her right forearm, a lotus on her left wrist

pet — a cat named chihiro. she's a huge dog person but found chihiro as a kitten and kept her despite usually not liking cats

gang — the society (tech)

II. PERSONALITY

positive — resourceful, kind-hearted, resilient, compassionate, charming, intelligent, self-assured, friendly

negative — guarded, guilt-ridden, cynical, indecisive, secretive, stubborn, self-destructive

likes — spicy food, dogs, her cat and her cat only lol, alone time, late nights, small thoughtful gestures, photography, rain, horror movies, vintage clothing, antihero characters, folklore and legends, abandoned places, whiskey sours dislikes — being controlled, flashy displays of wealth, over-consumerism, crowded or overstimulating environments, fakeness, flattery, winter, mice, bugs, seeing people in pain, expensive restaurants, clear liquor

fears — fear of losing her empathy, spiders, heights, being alone, hurting someone she cares about, never knowing who she truly is, not being in control

habits — smokes when stressed, carries a worn-out satchel with her at all times, always has snacks in her bag, constantly checks her phone, steps back from physical affection like hugs, often speaks in half-sentences, collects trinkets, always has a picture of her mother in a locket, counts change compulsively, eats street food at every opportunity

hobbies — biking, running, yoga, photography, cooking, volunteer work, community service, sketching, collecting old technology (flip phones, vintage radios, keyboards), urban exploration

III. ABOUT

Annie was born in Bangkok, raised in a cramped apartment by a mother who worked long hours to make ends meet. Her mother, who worked in a factory, always tried to shield Annie from their circumstances. But poverty had a way of creeping into their lives. It was ironic that they struggled since Annie's father was wealthy. Annie’s parents met while her father was working in Bangkok. Their relationship, however brief and ill-fated it was, resulted in the birth of a daughter. Once she was born, her father became increasingly detached, visiting sporadically and eventually just sending some money. He never really formed a real bond with his daughter.

As a child, Annie didn’t fully understand why her father was absent. There were times he would send presents. Letters. A call on her birthday. But they felt hollow. Like they were tokens of guilt, not true affection. She was seven, looking out the window, envisioning him pulling up in a taxi with his bags—there to stay. But as she got older, it became clear that he didn’t see her as a priority. She was a part of his past. Someone he could compartmentalize, forgetting about her whenever it suited him.

Annie's intelligence seemed to be her ticket out. But it wasn't like her mother had the money to send her to a private school. They were poor, and many people were forced to choose between what was right and survival. As a young teen, Annie got involved in petty crimes. She was a product of her circumstances—forced to navigate a world where survival often meant breaking the rules. Shoplifting and petty theft turned to breaking and entering and street racing. Her mother's initial denial gave way to frustration and worry. Annie knew her mother was stressed, but she didn't know how bad it truly was.

Unbeknownst to Annie, her mother was sick. She'd been hiding it for months, not wanting to burden Annie. But over time, she grew weaker. One day, as Annie returned home from school, she found her mother collapsed on the floor, body cold, skin pale and clammy. Annie tried to wake her up, shaking her mother frantically, calling her name. But it was too late.

Grief-stricken, Annie tracked down her father in New York. He accepted her with cold politeness but no real warmth. His new wife and two children—her half-siblings—saw her as a stranger. Through all of this, she joined The Society. She currently remains distant from her father and half-siblings. It's been over a decade that she's been in New York now. She's made friends. Dated around. A few years ago, a bad breakup sent her spiraling. It was a whirlwind romance that resulted in the faint pink lines of a positive pregnancy test.

Annie felt a rush of conflicting emotions: fear, disbelief…and a strange sense of excitement. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe her life could take a different path—a fresh start, a family of her own. But as the days went on, the weight of the situation began to settle in. The life she was living, the gang, the constant danger, the crime—none of it was a safe environment to bring a child into. And so Annie terminated her pregnancy, telling her ex after the fact. They ended things shortly thereafter.

Annie’s role in the gang has become an anchor to her identity—both a source of pride and deep regret. While she's incredibly skilled, part of her still clings to the belief that there’s something better for her out there. But each heist, each job, draws her deeper into a web of criminal activity that’s hard to escape.

IV. HEADCANONS.

She can pick a lock in under sixty seconds

Annie carries around hot sauce literally everywhere

She's a night owl and stays up until 5 am sometimes. As such, her sleep schedule is fucked and you can often find her rolling out of bed at noon

She hasn't been in a serious relationship since her ex. Queen of situationships, hookups, end endless tinder dates

more tba

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[kalashtars]

bro I'm at the level of seasonal depression where my brain is like "maybe I should watch supernatural...."

[alisaint]

i feel like sometimes (many times) people get realism / "if this were to happen to a real person in the real world context, then this character would experience and grapple with x, y, z" mixed up with text / what that character is actually going through in the story which is always going to be constrained by time, space, and the creator's biases and experiences

[unproduciblesmackdown]

one in a million when i watch smthing in the horror genre and don't end up disappointed to/and/or pissed off about it so like "also yeah i liked it. ooo" is like relative to that an off the charts rave review of media of the millennium. also i did think about mh a lot along the way so would recommend its affect/effect if you like mh's horror too

[thepandalion]

every once in a while I forget my magic empathy thing is. a thing. despite the fact that I never bothered to name it

and then Im watching a brand new episode of a show and the character my brain connects to os about to say something, and I say something and then the guy says the exact thing I just said.

and it keeps happening, too

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

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[idk-i-want-mcl-content]

lalisa can u teach me japanese i said hai hai

[paper-star-ships]

Secrets Of Dum//bledore was SO bad y’all 😭😭

[xervn]

melatonin

two-shot | enemies to fuckers sevika x reader

pt. 2

ao3 link

summary: you're forced to go on a business trip with your least favorite coworker and share a room with her. now you can't sleep.

18+ MDNI | 4.1k words | tags; canon divergence, sevika is a little mean, sevika is nonchalant fr, reader is a brat, very light sub/dom, vaginal fingering, scissoring, begging kink, praise kink kinda, porn w/ plot-ish, no use of y/n

new record; took me 4 days to write. i don't know who possessed me. i love enemies to lovers so bad FUCKKKK!!!

“One room.” The motel owner, an old, short, and grotesque-looking woman with a thick accent, says. 

 “One room? Clear another one out then?” You insist, mildly threateningly. The woman’s eyes glaze over as she blinks. She’s not moved.

“There are two beds; who cares?” Sevika grumbles, clearly over your antics.

You shoot a glare in her direction, lip forming into a scowl. “I’m not sharing a room with you; you look like you snore.” 

She tells you something along the lines of go fuck or kill yourself (you weren’t really listening) before pushing past you and replacing the room keys on the counter with a stack of silver cogs. 

The owner collects the cogs with a grunt before adjusting her small reader glasses. Sevika strides off towards the rooms, and you quickly turn after her.

“Couldn’t you have tried to help?” You ask. Your eyes burn a hole through the side of her face.

She doesn’t spare you a glance. “You’re dramatic, and I don’t have the patience to deal with your bullshit right now.”

You hate her. You fucking hate her. You’ve been working alongside Sevika for two years now, yet you can’t shake the feeling. It started when you first met; Sevika was cold and critical, reprimanding you even though you were young and starting out. That’s not even what drove you to hate her, though; at least back then it felt like she was looking out for you, but you were painfully mistaken when you got promoted within the year. 

You don’t know what it was; jealousy, doubt, but her distaste for you only grew more apparent. There were fewer critiques and more insults about how you work or about your intelligence. Insufferable. She was insufferable.

There hasn’t been a day she’s been likable since then, so imagine your reaction when Silco tells you and her to go on a little business trip to Bilgewater. No matter how much the both of you wanted to protest, you didn’t. Instead you two argued amongst yourselves the whole trip there. 

Why would you want to spend even more unnecessary time around her?

The minute you guys enter your room, you don’t speak a single word to each other, let alone look each other’s way. You take turns using the restroom to get ready for bed, and then you find a place for your belongings, and Sevika ejects her bionic arm for the night. Although you two definitely don’t like each other, it doesn’t mean you don’t trust each other. You know she won’t rob you; she knows you won’t (can’t) take advantage and kill her. That’s the only semblance of peace you share.

— 

A faint amber light soaks through your eyelids, and you blink them open to the popcorned ceiling. You toss and turn in your bed, rustling around, unable to find a good position, and it doesn’t help that the cheap mattress is, well, cheap. You can’t sleep. You’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it’s never been a real problem before; you’d just stay up. Yes, you have permanent eye bags because of it, but it’s not like you can choose otherwise. You‘re from Zaun; any aid for it is not exactly accessible. 

However, the meeting you have tomorrow is important, so it’s important that you find a way. You can’t afford to slack off or doze off during it; you’re the negotiator, and tomorrow makes or breaks a trade deal that will be most beneficial for Zaun’s income. 

You rustle in your bed sheets again, and Sevika immediately groans. “Can you stop? And turn the lamp off.”

You look at her and you’re about to apologize, but you hold your tongue when you remember who you’re talking to. “I can’t sleep.”

“Turn the lamp off and fucking figure it out.” She snaps, turning her back towards you.

“Can’t you hear?” You squirm around, making as much noise as possible to get your point across. “I’m trying.”

“Find a different way. Count poros. Turn the lamp off.”

You scoff, eyes back on the ceiling, “I’m not five; counting poros doesn’t work, and I’m not turning off the lamp.”

You can hear Sevika shifting in her bed. “I knew you should’ve stayed back,” she sighs, “and you’re scared of the dark? Grow up.”

“Wow, fuck you. If you had asked nicely, I would’ve turned it off, and what do you mean I ‘should’ve stayed’? You’re not my boss. I’m more valuable than you are.” You angrily rant. 

“Alright, you are talking way too much right now. Cut it out.” 

“…No.” You reply. It sounds unconvincing with your lack of words, but it was the best you could come up with.

“Do you need calming tea or something? What will get you to shut up, because I’m about to hold a pillow over your head and call it a night.” She growls.

“Nothing. I can only sleep if I get a concussion or if I drink my pants off.”

She says your name like a warning, “If you ruin this deal, I’ll make sure to see you off myself.”

You bite back, “Sevika, if I could sleep, I would be sleeping. I don’t want to ruin it either, but your scolding isn’t helping.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, then Sevika grunts stubbornly. It’s followed by sheets moving and a dull stomp on the floor. You turn to look, and you see Sevika sitting at the side of her bed. 

You glance at her muscular thighs in those gray shorts—you couldn’t help it—before staring back at the ceiling. “Are you going to make me tea?”

She pushes off the bed with her one arm. “No.”

“Switching rooms then?” You ask as your eyes follow her shadow’s movement on the walls. 

“No.”

“Then... What is it?“ You turn, flinching a bit when you find Sevika peering down at you. 

She looks hesitant, timid; the first time you’ve ever seen it. “I’ll help you.”

Your defenses go off, and you quickly sit up. “Wait. You’re not going to kill me, right?”

“Over sleep? Are you stupid?” She pushes you back down, and not with much force, obviously.

You lay there, defeated. “So?”

“I said, ‘I’ll help you.'” She restates.

You stare up at her with slight annoyance, “Well, you have to tell me how?”

She has an indecisive frown before exhaling, “If you come, you’ll shut up.” 

Your head shakes in confusion. “Come? Where are we going?” 

“You’re an actual idiot.” She groans.

You gasp in offense. “You’re the one being fucking cryptic—“

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.” 

“What?”

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

“I heard you; I’m just,” you laugh nervously, “are you serious?” Your ears must be playing tricks on you. 

“We’re not close enough to joke around with each other.” She says plainly.

Baffled, you reply, “We’re not close enough to fuck either?” 

“Do you really care about shit like that? Sex is sex.”

You think about it for a second. You’ve never been in a proper relationship, and you’ve only had a handful of hookups, but you’ve never slept with someone you dislike, and you definitely don’t like Sevika. Even if she is hot. “Well, I guess not—“

“—Then what’s the issue?” Her eyes bore into you.

You gulp at the sudden weight of her stare, but you don’t crumble. “The issue is that I don’t like you. At all.”

Sevika scoffs, “I’ve seen the way you stare at me. You’re not subtle. At all. I saw you do it a few minutes ago.”

How embarrassing. It’s true, between all your hate are moments of admiration. Sevika is “cool,” she’s respected, she’s feared. She’s also full of herself, naggy, and blunt. Both things can be true. But on top of that, she’s hot to the point it’s frustrating. 

One time, while she was sitting in her designated booth at The Last Drop playing poker, she locked eyes with you after a big win. There was that sexy, satisfied grin she always gets after every win, and she had the audacity to lock eyes with you. 

Your thighs pressed together. You beat yourself up over it for the rest of the night and the following day; you couldn’t even look her in the eye without getting unreasonably angry.

Your face is turning warm, but there’s no point in turning away—you have to fake it until you make it. “Okay? What’s your point?” You ask, even though her point was very clear. You’re running yourself into walls.

Sevika already deciphered that; her face reads, ‘Where the fuck are you right now?’ “Listen, I don’t like you either, but if you want to sleep, I’ll help you, and if you don’t, I’ll get another room.” She explains.

You can tell it’s her final offer. You chew your bottom lip until you remember Sevika is still looking at you. Hiding your face behind your hand, you can’t believe you’re considering it. Sex with Sevika. Sounds mad when you repeat it in your head. It’s just sex, though, right? You knew she loved Zaun, but you didn’t know she loved it this much. Sleeping with you, practically her arch nemesis, for the betterment of society. That sounds insane. This is insane.

Sevika kisses her teeth, “Forget it—“ 

“—Okay,” you interrupt, “help me.” You’re unable to look her in the eyes. 

She looks at you dubiously, and her lack of doing anything unnerves you, so you continue. “Please?” You slowly look up at her, and you swear her eyes darkened. 

“Please?” She mimics. “Didn’t take you for the submissive type.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, although it comes out like a whisper.

“Mhm,” she hums apathetically, pulling up the covers draped over you. Her knee makes a dip in the bed. “Make some space,” she asks. You sit up, and you have no idea what to do. Looking left and right, you'd think you were trying to cross the road. She stares blankly. “Just spread your legs.” She commands.

You immediately do as she says, and she chuckles to herself at how you continue to prove her right. You’re clearly not a fan of that, your frown prominent. “What’s funny?” 

Sevika kneels herself between your legs, using her arm to help balance her in place. “Man, you love to argue.” 

You shrug. “I’ll stop when you fuck me to sleep. If you can... Don’t you think you’re a little overconfident?” 

Sevika slowly blinks at you, unsure of whether she should be turned on or irritated. You take it as the latter, and now it’s your turn to chuckle to yourself. But your self-satisfied giggling stops when she leans over you, inches away from your face, “You’re about to find out.” 

You never took the time to process Sevika kneeling between your legs, and now you can feel each exhale from her on your face. Your body starts to process it too: your breathing gets heavier and your heartbeat gets faster. You don’t have a crush on her or anything, but this is an unusual, unsurprisingly hot experience. Your eyes flicker to her full, uneven lips before they squeeze shut.

Sevika flicks your forehead. “Wh—ow?!” You whine, rubbing your head with your hand to soothe it. 

“I’m not kissing you.” She clarifies.

Your face warms with embarrassment, fingers gripping at the fabric beneath you. “How was I supposed to know you wanted a staring contest?” You grumble.

Sevika rolls her eyes, barely shaking her head in disappointment. Her face moves on from yours, and her lips attack the exposed curvature of your neck, licking, biting, and rendering you speechless. She gives you no time to regulate your emotions, and you let out a soft groan you would’ve otherwise swallowed down. Just what she wanted: less talking, more moaning.

Letting her guide the tilt of your head, you awkwardly rest your hands on her shoulders. You’re unsure of whether you can or should touch her. She pauses. “Sor— I… uh…” You stammer and put your hands up. You decide to just stop speaking to save yourself.

“Relax.” She tells you, gazing at you through her loose, dark hair. It stirs something below you. 

You place your hands back on her shoulders, albeit reluctantly, and try to maintain eye contact so you look composed. 

Sevika doesn’t buy it. She glances at your hands, very tellingly. “…Relax.” She repeats, softer than she did before, and your heart skips a beat like you’re in a cliché. 

Hesitantly, you slide your arms around her shoulders, linking your hands together. It feels intimate, too intimate, and looking at her is getting harder by the second. Sevika chuckles in a way that borders on a scoff. “You wanted to do that; don’t be shy about it.”

You huff, “I didn’t know I was being teased to sleep…”

“Is it working? It’d save me time.”

“Fuck off...” 

“You’d hate that.” She replies, as if it’s undeniable. It is, but she’s way too cocky about it. You look like you’re about to curse her out, but you’re holding it back. 

Sevika grins smugly, and for a moment, she considers kissing you. Your arms are wrapped around her shoulders, your eyes are yelling, ‘Fuck me already,’ lips practically begging to meet hers.

This is intimate, too intimate. It’s fucking with her logical reasoning—not that this is logical to begin with. It sounds stupid, but it’s worked for her so far; she casually fucks on the regular, and she doesn’t kiss them ever. Never really felt like it. Yet, here you are, making her feel new things. She knows there’s no going back if she makes an exception with you, and quite frankly, you still piss her off. It’s conflicting.

You impatiently perk a brow at her. You had to stop yourself from flat-out asking her to continue; your ego can’t afford you coming off as begging.

For a millisecond she looks like she got caught, then a millisecond later, she’s on you again. 

She attentively kisses the skin below the curve of your jawline, her tongue making frequent warm appearances. It’s much more fervent, but rough in a way that makes you tremble. She always makes sure you feel her teeth gliding over when she moves to the next spot. Your legs move on their own, one leg curling up against her side. You’re already pooling where you’re seated, but now it’s getting uncomfortable to sit this damp. 

Experienced is how you can describe her right now. You heard rumors of her activity, but you never believed it. There was no way her ol’ grumpy ass was getting laid, no matter how incredibly sexy she was. Then again, you never got along, which makes this situation, this fucking feeling, even crazier. 

She was being extra careful not to bruise you at first, but she seems not to care anymore, only driven further when she hears your little gasps or feels your arms tightening around her. She’s getting carried away, but she’ll figure out how to play it off some other time.

 Sevika pulls back. She throbs at your dazed and confused expression.  “Come closer.” She ushers as she transitions to sitting rather than kneeling on the bed. 

With no hesitation, you don’t let go of Sevika as you push yourself forward on your hips, sitting your ass comfortably on the edge of Sevika’s lap. Her hand lands on your waist. She says, “Lay down for me.” 

You nod shyly, removing your arms from Sevika’s shoulders and descending onto the mattress. Sevika tries to ignore how the loss of your arms around her made her feel. Her hand travels to the waistband of your joggers. “You’re going to have to move these for me too.” She asks, shrugging her shoulder that’s missing an arm as a reminder. 

She doesn’t move; she waits. Your insides do a flip. She’s waiting for you to remove them how you are now: legs diverged around her, hips pointed towards her. You think about how vulnerable you’ll look and feel when you slide them off, showing her the sopping mess she unknowingly made between your legs. You know she’s going to see it eventually, but from you doing the honors? That’s tearing you apart. She notices a shift in your demeanor, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. “Hurry up.” 

“Can’t you move back…?”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “No.”

You whine in embarrassment, briefly shielding your face in your hands before hastily pulling at your waistband. You wish you had turned the lamp off.

Sevika’s hand clasps over yours. “Slowly.” She scolds. Scolds. You’re fucking flabbergasted. She’s doing this on purpose, you can tell. She’s barely holding back another signature, smug smile. 

“You’re such a dick.” You curse. A direct juxtaposition in your actions that don’t defy Sevika at all. Hell, it juxtaposes your body because of how you’re aching for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Off.” She pulls at the band of your pants, letting it slap down when she releases it. 

You mutter out a few more curses that she fully grins at before you silently begin to remove your joggers and underwear simultaneously. You lift your hips for mobility, and Sevika’s eyes are glued to the fabric making its way down your thighs, and you’re forced to watch how intently she’s watching you. You can try to insist this is humiliating and cruel, but you can’t stop throbbing just from this; her eyes anticipating your reveal, like you’re a self-opening present.

The clothing starts to bunch at the middle of your thighs, and your arousal is halfway there to being exposed to Sevika. The scent is what hits her first; it makes her want to yank your pants down and give you what you want, but watching you do it so much better.

Once it reaches above your knees, she partially moves out of the way so she can help you remove them properly. While she tosses it elsewhere, you debate pinning your legs shut. 

Sevika looks back at you—your legs, actually—and you do flinch them closed. She tsks. “Don’t be stubborn. Not now.” She didn’t sound like she was insulting you, even though a small part of you wanted to be offended. 

You let out a shaky sigh and avoid her gaze, slowly parting your legs. Thighs slicked with arousal, folds glistened with the same, you’re undeniably soaked. You prepare yourself to look at Sevika’s shit-eating grin, but when you do, it’s nothing of the sort. Her eyes are low, shaded, and memorializing, and her bottom lip fully disappeared between her teeth. 

Then she grins; she even laughs, just as you expected. You groan, not at her, but at how wet you got from it. “I didn’t even do anything yet.” She teases, her eyes still locked on the ego-stroking mess she made of you. 

“Such a di—“ You cut yourself off to moan sharply. 

Sevika’s thumb came in contact with your swollen clit, the rough pad of her thumb making perfect circles; the rest of her fingers positioned in the patch of hair crowning above it.

“How fast do you think you’ll come? I’m thinking,” she pretends to, only to press her thumb over your clit. Filthy words flutter from your lips, and you instinctively grind into her touch. “Three minutes?” 

You look pissed between your bouts of pleasure; it molds together attractively. Sevika can’t wait to make it break, make you cry, and fuck the attitude out of you. “What? You should see how wet you are; you’d think I already fucked you.” 

She feels the way you twitch at her words, and it makes the pressure between her legs unbearable. She should just strip and grind her cunt into you, but she knows she won’t be able to stop there. Fuck her stupid life; she’s losing the plot. 

Her thick forefinger collects your slick as she paths towards your entrance. You twitch as she slides it in, making you gasp. She chuckles as your walls clench around her finger, and she starts pushing it in and out, painstakingly slow. 

It’s not enough, yet you can’t bring yourself to beg her for more. It’s at the tip of your tongue, but Sevika was right; you are stubborn. She reads you like a book, and she can read you now. She angles her finger in a way that brushes against your g-spot, but at the same mind-numbingly slow pace. 

Your body doesn’t know what to do; you can’t find friction anywhere; you can squeeze against her finger, but it doesn’t change her speed; all you can do is writhe in place. “You look like you need something,” she says, almost like it’s a thought in her head, so condescending, so fucking hot. Your pussy tenses around her finger for the millionth time, and you almost, almost, cry. “You’re gonna cut my finger off at this rate.” You tense again. She chuckles. 

“Sev—Sevika,” you bite your lip to hold down a sharp inhale, but it fails miserably. “Sevika, you’re not helping.”

 “Should I stop?” She asks with the tilt of her head. Her finger does stop regardless of the answer. 

Your hands reach out for her wrist, weakly clawing at it. “No! No, pl...” You mildly cringe at yourself, turning away. 

Sevika’s brows lifted. “What was that? Pl...?” She begins her pace again, and you realize you didn’t appreciate it enough before. “You said it once already; come on.” 

Your lips tremble, “Plea—se—?” She barely lets you finish the word before slipping another finger into your drooling cunt. Her pace increases, and you let go of her wrist as you succumb to pleasure. 

 Your arousal coating her fingers makes the most obscene noises; she wonders if the entire motel can hear it. You try to suppress your moans with your hand, but you can never do it right, not with the way she’s fucking you. Sevika’s glad you can’t; having one arm would’ve been even more inconvenient otherwise. She needs to hear you sob out her name at least once. “Please what?” She leans over you as she slams her fingers into you, pressing them against your wet, ridged, gummy walls.

“You’re— fuck, you’re pushing it,” you groan, and just like that, she slows down. But you’re weak, and you crumble. “Wait, wait, wait—please. Please, fuck me... Fuck me to sleep.” You ramble loosely, back to scratching at her wrists again. There’s that smile you were thinking about earlier, the one she gets after a big win. She broke you, and she lost the plot ages ago. 

—

It’s been an hour, and you’re already on the brink of your third orgasm. Sevika folded and ended up, verbatim, stripping and grinding her cunt into yours. You should be asleep right now, but Sevika said you have enough time to catch up on it before the meeting. You hope that’s true, but you don’t care. You can’t get enough of her or her abs flexing with every desperate hump. 

So intent on getting her rocks off, practically using you for her own pleasure at this point—you already came twice now; any more is a bonus, just like the one building up right now. Your eyes are pressed shut, trying to envision your release so it comes quicker. “Just like that. Keep fucking me, please, Sev.” You beg through your teeth and quiet sniffles. Sevika’s fingers squeeze the meat of your thigh.

She murmurs, “You,” her movements get sloppier; you can tell she’s close, “feel so fucking good.” Now you’re close—no, you come at her praise. 

You’re shaking, grabbing at the sheets that have since slid off the mattress. You forgot how to breathe; all you can feel is your orgasm coursing through you. Your mind is turning fuzzy, and even fuzzier with Sevika still grinding into you. Your moans are pitchy and pornographic; you’re making sounds you didn’t even think happened in real life. “Sevika...” You sob out from overstimulation, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

She loves it. “Shit…” Sevika moans, followed by several more curses as she shudders out her orgasm. Her vision goes blurry for a second from how hard she came. She tries to control her labored breathing as she comes to, breathlessly calling your name. 

When she focuses in on you, you’re passed out, fucked out, and peaceful. Sevika’s pupils dilate at the markings she left on your neck, then to your lips, which she’s yet to have the chance to kiss. She lets the sleep weighing on her win and carefully collapses beside you. 

>

[titsthedamnseason]

.

[borathae]

Scents | JJK x f.Reader

“Life as Jungkook’s mate is everything you ever dreamed of. He is there for you, he keeps you safe, fulfills all your wishes and fucks you to complete satisfaction. Life as your mate is, well, it’s how Jungkook always imagined having a home feels like. Because his life as his father’s son isn’t easy, but with you by his side, it finally doesn’t hurt anymore. When one night, Jungkook comes home feeling like shit because of his father, you decide to show him that he can always count on you to be his comfort and his distraction.”

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolf!AU, True Mates!AU, Married Life!AU, Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: lots of plot <3, Kook is such a layered character omfg, his father is abusive fr, we hate him, she is there for him, scenting for comfort, he cries in front of her for the first time, this is just so :(, which means that the smut is gonna hit so hard, scene switch to morning, morning cuddles & slow kisses, he loves her i just want to say it again that he really loves her, he really does, the next ones are for the smut: needy Dom!Jungkook, service sub!Reader, she wants to make Him feel good for a change, adoration of his scent spots, which he never had done before so he is a goner, neck kisses, nipple licking & play, thigh kisses, biting, he has a big dick, oral sex (m.receiving), deep throating, rough face fucking, in my universe omegas can switch off their gag reflex, stimulation of his knot, she licks his balls too, lots of drool, and lots of slick, they do it on the window bench first where she kneels, then he carries her to bed and fucks her face while he stands, dirty talk & praise, pussy fingering & clit play while he face fucks her, choking (f.receiving), cum swallowing, rough hair pulling, multiple orgasms for both, very rough penetrative sex on the window sill from behind, exhibitionism kink cause yk window, squirting, subby girl tears, belly bulging, major breeding kink, creampies, they call each other "my omega" & "my Alpha", the softest & most loving aftercare, i want him so bad, also! he is a lot taller & stronger than her

Wordcount: 13.5k

a/n: you wanted more of alpha!koo, unaware that i was already working on a third installation because i want more of him too. i don’t think you even understand What he means to me like this story means so much to me and I’m so happy that so many of you love him as well <3 tbfh? there will definitely be more of him in the future but for now let us enjoy giving him the sloppiest head ever 💛 ps: i really need him to be my Alpha like-

You know from the sound of his bike that he was home. You drop the paint roller, which you were using before, to greet him by the door. You are currently redoing the living room so that it would feel homey. Jungkook told you that you can do whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy. It makes you really happy and you are practically skipping to the door to tell him all about your awesome day. 

You reached a point in your marriage where you get excited at the aspect of exchanging stories of your days with each other. Having Jungkook come home and listening to him tell you about his day is so exciting to you. In return, you can’t wait to share your day with him. Whatever this might mean in your development of feelings for him, seems positive to you. You definitely don’t want it to stop. 

You enter the hallway in sync with Jungkook. 

“There you are, I have so much to show-”

Bang! 

Jungkook coincidentally slams the door closed at the same time with you beginning your story. You stop abruptly, covering your ears instinctively. Loud noises scare you. They always have. Maybe it has something to do with your omega gen, but when something is loud, it means danger to you. 

Jungkook is huffing his air at first, but takes a moment of shocked gathering where he realises that he wasn’t alone. He lifts his eyes, studying you in a mixture of guilt and shock. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks you. 

“I don’t know”, you speak quietly, body smaller to keep yourself protected, “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” he is talking harsher than he normally does.

“Just so.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He throws the keys on the dresser and shrugs off his leather jacket. He slips off his boots and discards them on the rack. 

“Did something bad happen?” you ask him while your body is still trying to regulate itself from the loud noise. You feel shaken and jittery, despite being aware that you aren’t in actual danger. 

“When does anything good ever happen to me?”

Your heart stings in a funny way. Does this mean that this bond is terrible to him?

“Oh, uhm.”

He studies you, visibly regretting his poor choice of words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just. Fuck, I just need to be alone, I can’t do this right now”, he says and stomps past you to the cellar door.

He has a home gym down there. In which he very obviously disappears right now. He slams the cellar door closed and moments later, you can hear the downstairs speakers blast heavy metal music.

You feel helpless and clueless. In the end, you sit in the living room, unable to do anything because you are frozen. You wonder if it is something you did. Maybe he actually hates the home renovations and he finally had enough. Maybe you are being too clingy. Maybe you aren’t being clingy enough. Or maybe it has nothing to do with you. Whatever it might be, you can’t figure it out and so you are frozen.

You continue to sit frozen and helpless until Jungkook returns from the cellar an hour later. You know when he finally leaves because the music turns off and he stomps upstairs.

You are on your feet instantly, following him hastily as he hurries to the front door.

“Where are you going? Talk to me, what happened?”

“Leave me alone, you’re only making it worse.”

He is going to leave. You can’t let him do that. Not when you are so confused. 

“I’m worried. Is it something really bad?” 

You are outside. All he has to do is take these five steps and then he has the house – and you – behind him.

“Jungkook”, you round him on the steps, forcing him to stop.

He snarls in distaste, sending you a poisonous look. You don’t feel scared in his presence however, placing your hands on his upper arms. They are hot to the touch and his muscles are hard. As if his entire body is constantly tensing in anger. 

“Talk to me. What happened?” you stress, rubbing his flexed muscles in hopes of calming him down. 

“Well, what do you think happened? My dad happened”, he spits.

“Fuck, so I was right. What did he do?”

Two hours prior

Jungkook drags his heavy legs to the foot of his father’s throne. It would be really awesome if the throne was only a metaphor, but it wasn’t. His father quite literally sits on a throne, head held high and eyes lowered in judgement about his son’s state. Alphas normally don’t do that.

“It’s done, father”, the words come with difficulty for Jungkook. His ribs still ache from having them punched repeatedly. “The last of Urquard’s pack is gone. I did it. Ah, fuck.”

Exhaustion and a still healing leg drag Jungkook to his knees. He falls hard, pillowing his descent with his hands. Some of the omegas present instantly rush to help him, touching him on spots of his body to check for more wounds. Jungkook is heaving and panting, staring at the floor as he waits for the pain to pass. He should be used to it by now. He stopped counting how many times his father sent him past the walls to eradicate his enemies. They were never Jungkook’s enemies. If he was the Alpha, there wouldn’t even be any to begin with.

Jungkook should be used to the pain by now, but he isn’t. Just as he isn’t used to his father’s stone heart.

“Get up, boy. An Alpha doesn’t show weakness.”

His father never asked him if he was alright. He never did. Jungkook bites back his emotions, standing back up with the help of the omegas. He wipes the blood from his mouth, forcing his head to stop pounding.

“Forgive me, father. I guess being bit in the leg twice and then having your side scratched open does that to someone.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Be glad that your mother only bore you, otherwise I would have replaced you as my heir ages ago. Ungrateful brat.” 

“Are we done here? I’m exhausted.” 

“We are done once I tell you that we are done. And you fucking omegas stop touching my son!” 

The omegas flinch back, scurrying away from Jungkook as quickly as possible. He studies them with a tight face, shifting his eyes to his father afterwards. 

“I’d prefer it if you stopped talking to the pack like that.”

His father scowls, gripping the arm rests of the throne tightly, “what was that?”

“You heard me. You wanna be their Alpha? Treat them with respect. Please.”

“I am their Alpha!” His father yells. 

Jungkook should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t get easier. That’s his fucking dad and he is yelling at him. Why does shit like this hurt even after the millionth time?

“Why are you yelling at me? I was only making a suggestion.”

“Because you don’t get to suggest anything! You get to listen and behave!”

“You know. It hurts me when you yell at me. I wanna talk with you like normal people. Why can’t we? Just once, please dad.”

“Oh so now I’m the bad guy? Look at yourself first! If you didn’t turn out to be such a disappointment, I wouldn’t have to yell!” 

“I’m a disappointment?” Jungkook gasps, touching his aching chest. “I just killed ten wolves for you, dad. I do everything you ask of me. I take the pain no matter how much it hurts and I’m a disappointment?” 

“And yet you ended up bonding with an omega. If your mother was still alive, she would hate the view of you.”

“If mom was still alive she would tell you that you’re a major jerk!” Jungkook finally yells, spilling tears he doesn’t want his father to see. “And she would be happy for me! Mama always wanted to see me happy, she wouldn’t hate me!” 

His father jumps up and closes the distance to strike Jungkook across his face. Jungkook stumbles back, feeling disoriented for a few moments. It hurts, but not as much as it once did. His father is getting old and weaker.

“Don’t hit me. Why did you do that, dad?”

His father grabs his collar, lifting his hand in warning.

“You rather I use my claws?” he threatens.

“Go on. Do it”, Jungkook challenges through his angry tears. “It’s nothing I haven’t felt tonight. It’s nothing I keep feeling whenever I leave these walls to kill in your name. My hands are trenched in the blood of innocents while you sit on your throne, clean. You really think that your claws could damage me?”

His father scowls, flashing his eyes golden. Jungkook challenges him, eyes burning so much brighter. The truth has been out there for months. It is the reason why his father clings to his throne so obsessively, why he sends Jungkook on such deadly missions. He is losing his spot as the true Alpha. Dynamics in the pack are changing.

“I’m keeping the pack safe, father. Remember that. I’m the one who looks out for everyone. Like an Alpha should”, Jungkook challenges. 

His father growls, pushing him away to stumble back to his throne paranoid and blind in rage. 

“Go. I can’t look at you.”

The victory of tonight is Jungkook’s, but it leaves him empty. He doesn’t want to win, he wants a normal interaction with his dad that doesn’t leave him feeling drained and like shit. Fucking hell, he just wants a normal family. 

“Good night, father.”

Jungkook turns and leaves the throne room, holding is head high despite feeling as low as the fucking floor.

The now

“Urgh! I just”, Jungkook lets out and turns to slam his fist into the stone pillar. It crumbles at some parts under his strength and when he pulls back, bloody imprints of his knuckles are on the white stone.

“Jungkook, oh my god, you hurt yourself”, you gasp, trying to reach for his fist but before you can, he punches the pillar again.  

More crumbling and bloody prints.

“Stop it, you’re already bleeding.”

“If I don’t punch this fucking pillar, I’ll do something I’d regret. I’m so angry”, he growls and does it again.

“Stop it! This isn’t you!” 

“But it is”, Jungkook barks, whipping around to look into your eyes as he spits his words. “You’ve just never seen me like this. You’ve never seen me fucking angry.”

“No. No, you aren’t like this.”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me who I am. You have no idea who I am! How could you? If your deadbeat brother didn’t fuck up and I had to mark you, you never would have had to bond with me. You’re not in love with me, of course you don’t know me!”

You bite back tears.

“Don’t say that”, you get out quietly.

“I mean it. And, here is a little fact for you. This is me. I’m impulsive, I do stupid shit and explode in anger. This is me. So go ahead, push me away, call me a fucking dick. That’s just who I am.”

Your heart feels heavy, forcing you to whimper like a hurt puppy. Jungkook falters, taking a small step back.

“Leave me alone”, he says because he feels that pushing you away is all that he can do right now. 

You however don’t feel strong enough to leave. Behind all this anger and aggression, behind every brick he breaks, you can smell the hurt and insecurity he is currently feeling. He might hide it behind violence, but you are his true mate and an omega. All you can smell is that he feels like an anxious pup pushed into a corner, desperate for care and a helping hand.

“I said leave”, he stresses.

“No.” 

“Yes.”

You shake your head and step closer.

“Go! Before I use it.”

He is talking about his Alpha voice. It is a voice which will force any beta or omega into instant subordination and agreement. Any good natured, kind Alpha rarely uses this voice because of how much it feels like an abuse of power. Other, less kind, Alphas find joy in making their pack obey this way. Urquard was one of those Alphas. You know Jungkook, you know the kind heart and gentle soul he hides behind  his tough exterior. He would never use his Alpha voice. Especially not on you. 

This is just a desperate, empty threat. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone in this.” 

“Well, you have to because I’m telling you. With, with my voice. Go.” 

You close the last distance and pull him down to you.

“I said leave”, Jungkook insists panickedly, body tense. 

You rub your nose into the scent spot on his neck, hoping to spread some of your relaxing scent this way. He reeks of anxiety and guilt right now. 

Jungkook tries to protest again, fight you off and not appear weak, but you are very powerful in your attempts of calming him down, breaking him within a minute. 

“Why are you doing this?” he sighs out and hugs you, melting with you and revealing more of his neck to you. It feels so good. In no way in a sexual manner, but emotionally and physically and in some way also spiritually. 

Jungkook felt all over the place. He felt out of balance, without footing or a destination. He felt betrayed and hurt, but also anxious and insecure. It was eating him alive and all of a sudden, it is gone. All of it. It is just gone. And it’s all you. His head is quiet, his heart feels light and his stomach stopped twisting. He is free. And he is home. 

He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, right where your scent spot lies, and inhales deeply. He cradles you against him, strong hand on the back of your head and eyes closed. 

He exhales, shedding his heart of today’s burdens.

“I’m here now, Koo”, you whisper, playing with his hair slowly.

He never felt such relief before. Nor has he ever experienced such comfort. It goes so deep and feels so real. Jungkook wonders how he was able to get through life for so long without you. 

Sighing deeply in relief, he pulls you closer and puts his hands under your jumper so he can feel your skin. Warm and soft. You seem to melt closer from the touch, which only calms him down more.

It is a quiet moment as you and he stand on the porch and let the day finally stop bothering you. You and he aren’t aware yet that you are visible to anyone who could walk by your home, but if you were, you wouldn’t care. Let the world see that you and he found meaning in this once forced bond. Let them see what it means to be mates. And let his dumb father see that a bond between an omega and an alpha actually works. 

You change sides of his neck, wanting to make sure that he smells your scent equally. You stop by his lips as you make your way to it, having your eyes closed and resting your forehead against his’. He has his eyes closed as well, breathing slowly. Kisses are exchanged in the slowest rhythm ever. It is meditative. There is nothing else to him right now than you and what you are doing to him. Whenever he breathes in, it feels as if the air is filling literally every single fibre in his body. And when he breathes out, it feels as if he is ridding himself of toxins. He was never as aware of his energy flow than he is right now, breathing with you and sharing kisses. He can feel it coursing through him, mixing with your energy until it feels as if he is glowing from the inside out. And then you reach the other side of his neck, you nuzzle him and give him soft kisses and Jungkook feels invincible. 

His head rolls back in defeat, he sinks into you for just a second before his bodily instincts kick in again.

“Sorry, almost lost it”, he whispers, dragging his words.

“It’s okay. Should we go inside?”

“Yeah, let’s do that”, he says and picks you up with his hands under your butt.

Your legs instinctively close around his waist, your arms hug him. You keep your nose in his neck, getting droopy in his warm, relaxed scent. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see me like this. And I’m sorry for all the things I said. I didn’t mean them.”

“It’s okay. I get it. You have every right to be as upset as you were. I just, I don’t want you to think that this is who you are. You’re not aggressive or impulsive. I know you. You’re strong and kind and really sweet.”

“Thanks.”

“And your mom would be proud of who you became.”

He stops in his steps, looking up at you with glassy eyes. You cradle his cheeks.

“I remember when she would make us picnic baskets and call you home when it was dark out. She loved you so much. I know how she was. She would still love you and she would be happy for you.” 

He presses his eyes closed, spilling tears he doesn’t want to spill. He curses, showing his fangs in a desperate snarl to control his emotions.

“It’s okay, I’m here”, you whisper, nuzzling his scent spot again.

Jungkook stumbles to the entrance hall dresser and sits you down on it, holding you oh so close. 

“Holy fuck”, he croaks out.

“I know, I’m here. Right here.”

Jungkook got used to the feeling of grief in his chest. He learned that it will always be there and learned how to live with it. It doesn’t mean that it ever stopped bleeding. You stop it right now. It doesn’t feel like a gushing open wound in his chest. It is there, but it is bearable, as if he can finally carry it in his hands without cutting himself. 

And it is all you. You make it bearable, you keep him in this warm, healing space. 

“Thank you”, he whispers, “my mama would love you so much if she was still here.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure that she would tease you about how it happened though.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook laughs, covering up a sob with it.

You laugh with him, changing sides of his neck to make sure that he gets your soothing scent equally.

“Yeah, she would. But she would be happy for us. Mama always wanted me to bond out of love and I did.” He looks at your face. “I don’t ever wanna let you go. I can’t believe I lived without you for so long.”

You fluster, “wow, I don’t know what to say. I just…wow.”

“Don’t say anything. Just know that you’re the most amazing person ever.” 

“Shut up, don’t say that”, you mumble, nudging his chest and avoiding eye contact in nervousness.

He laughs, picking you up in his arms to get you closer. You snicker, holding him tightly. 

You and he fall asleep holding each other that night. Jungkook sleeps through the entire night, which he never did after past arguments with his father.

Jungkook wakes after you the next morning. Your side is empty and cold. He peels his heavy eyes open, shifting them to where you disappeared off to. 

The window bench, lost in a book and with your face still puffy from sleep. The rising sun is illuminating you. Jungkook swears that he is seeing an angel when he looks at you. His heart flutters and his stomach tingles. He has such immense feelings for you and seeing you be so utterly you only strengthens them.

“Good morning”, he murmurs sleepily. His cheek is squished on the pillow, his back peeks out from the blanket because he is lying on his stomach.

You lower the book at the sound of his voice, looking at him. He is smiling at you.

“Hey, good morning.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” 

“I had to pee and then I saw the book and yeah, it was over for my sleepiness.”

“Mhm, whatever it was, get back here now”, he lulls and rolls to his side so he can open the blanket for you.

Your bedroom in the morning is really chilly because the timer for the heater hasn’t turned on yet. He smells so warm under the blanket. His invitation is incredibly easy to take. 

You put the book aside and hurry back to bed, climbing under the blanket. It is warmed up from him.

Jungkook purrs in contentment, pulling you against his chest and into his arms. He hides his nose in the crook of your neck, tickling your skin as he sniffles sleepily. 

“Mhm, my favourite smell”, he whispers, snuggling closer.

You still haven’t gotten used to being cared for in such ways. Of course you had boyfriends who were in love with you, but none of it felt like Jungkook’s affection feels. 

His affection feels so deep, so real and so eternal. As if nothing could ever change it. As if all he ever wanted to do was love you. It is unfamiliar but nice. So nice. 

The sun wanders over the horizon while his fingers wander over your arm and his lips take small steps on your neck. Your once chilly body heats up under the blanket and because of his incredibly warm body. It is such a cozy state to be in that you are fighting gravity with your eyelids.

He exhales deeply.

“What’s the matter?” you ask him.

“Just living in the moment. I feel like shit, but it’s, I don’t know, bearable like this...” He traces your side, mouthing at your neck as he talks. “...with you in my arms…so warm and soft.” He slips his hand under your shirt, touching your skin most tentatively. “My life’s bearable like this.” 

His words and gestures are sweet and filled with relaxation, but you can’t help still feel a twinge of sadness for him. If only you knew that behind the elitist, distant façade he put on, a deeply complex and troubled person was hiding. Perhaps you wouldn’t have hated him so deeply.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, but still. I could have made the first step too, maybe tried to fix our friendship. I thought that you felt like you’re better than anyone and therefore didn’t want to hang with us anymore. If I knew what you were going through, I…I just feel guilty. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you.” 

“Don’t be. I fucked it up, we grew up and thought that the other moved on. Of course I missed you, but I didn’t blame you.”

“Yeah well, I’m here now if you wanna talk.” 

Jungkook kisses your neck gently, whispering his words, “I’m gonna be okay. That’s just how my dad is. It’s okay.”

You keep quiet, but hold him closer. No kid should have to defend their own parents like that. But you also understand him. His father is the only kin Jungkook has left. If he cut him off, the last reminder of his once happy family dies right with it.

“But this is nice”, Jungkook says and shifts so he can kiss your cheek. He purrs and lifts his head to give you a smile, caressing your temple. 

You retort it, but apparently do such a bad job at it that he furrows his brows in worry.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“No, something’s up. Tell me.”

“I’m sorry that your dad sucks.”

He falters, looking to the side.

“Uhm, it’s fine. Thank you”, he says and sits up, “seriously, it’s fine.”

You sit up, closing the distance to hug his waist and kiss his shoulder. Jungkook places his hands over yours, leaning back into you. 

“If there is something I can do, just tell me”, you offer, rubbing his stomach and chest slowly, “I’m here for you from now on.” 

“Just be you. That’s all I need from you.” He takes your left hand and guides it to his lips. “Just be you.” He kisses the wedding band on your ring finger, resting his nose against it afterwards. “You bring me so much peace.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah”, he smiles to himself and squeezes your hands, “now I really gotta go. I need to shower because I feel like I stink.”

“No, you smell so good.”

“Thanks, but I still need to go.”

You get the sense that he needs this. Emotionally. That he needs this shower to leave yesterday truly behind him, watching it metaphorically run down the drain as he washes it off of him. So you let him.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be here when you come back. Today’s a lazy day, don’t wanna leave the bedroom.”

“I’m taking your words for it.”

And with that, he leaves for a shower while you sink back into the pillow. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking. 

You have wonderful parents. Of course they have their flaws and made mistakes like any parent does, but they love you. And you love them. You would describe your relationship with them as healthy. So you don’t have any first hand experiences of bad parents like Jungkook does. 

It doesn’t make your understanding and shared pain for his situation any less however. It hurts you to know that his father manages to hit him so deeply that Jungkook still recovers from it one day later. You make a promise to yourself that morning to be the shoulder he can always lean on. Because that’s what best friends are here for, that’s what mates do. 

For the rest of Jungkook’s shower, you think of him and everything you have already experienced together in your short time as mates.

Jungkook forgot to bring his briefs to the bathroom with him, joining you in the bedroom in nothing but his towel. Snug around his hips, it reaches him a little under his knees. His hair is freshly washed and blow dried. His torso is bare and dried off. You are sitting on the window bench, clearly waiting for him, when he joins you. 

The view of him instantly shoots warmth between your legs. It is instinct. You can’t help it. Especially when you woke up not that long ago and you are still so warm from being held. 

“Hey there, baby”, he greets you, making his way to his closet.

“Hey.” 

“Why are you sitting over there again?” he asks you, busy with picking out briefs. “Is the book that good?”

“No I uhm. I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking, baby?” 

You stand up and close the distance. Jungkook turns to you, giving you his full attention and his hands when you take them. The briefs are forgotten again. You lead him to the window bench. 

“I was thinking, you had a bad day yesterday and you still have a sucky morning and maybe I could make it better.”

“You already did. The thing you did yesterday was amazing. I haven’t slept that well in, like, basically ever. I feel so good, baby.”

“Yeah well, what if I do something else amazing too?” 

“I don’t seem to follow.”

You sit him down. Jungkook looks up at you because you are standing and therefore are taller than him. But there is no ounce of power shift in your dynamic. He might be looking up at you right now, but you still feel so utterly submissive to him. It is nice because it is safe and feels like home. He puts his hands on your waist, talking in a warm yet raspy voice.

“And what’s that something else supposed to be?” 

“Please don’t judge me. Promise.”

“I promise. Now tell me. Come on baby, don’t make me work for it”, he encourages you, rubbing slow circles into your lower back. He slipped his hands under your sleep shirt, so his current touch is addicting. So warm and raw. You could honestly melt in his hands once he gets you started.

You put your hands on his strong shoulders and take a deep breath to gather your courage. You make your confession as you breathe out.

“Can I give you a blowjob?” 

Jungkook gawks with widened eyes, giving you his answer in the form of shocked silence. It makes you nervous and so you shift from one foot to the other.

“Please say something”, you whisper.

“Why on earth did you think that I would judge you for this?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, I-I know it’s a lot of me to ask and kinda insensitive. Oh god, is it insensitive? I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean-”

He silences your nervous babbling by cupping your cheek and pulling you down into a kiss. Your knees buckle instantly, the electric pull he has on you, tugs you on top of his lap. A small moan escapes you when his hands instinctively grab your ass and squeeze. The touch is so tender and possessive. It feels so good. Honestly, you would have started to kiss him until your lips were tired if he didn’t break the kiss to talk.

“Don’t apologise. Yes, baby?”

You nod your head, whispering a shy “yes.”

“Yes. That’s good.” He gives you a sweet smile, running his strong hands to your waist. “You’d actually want to blow me?”

You nod your head. 

“Kook, I missed you”, you confess and rest your forehead against his’. 

Jungkook chases the affection, sliding his hands into your pants and back to your ass to squeeze it gently.

“You missed me?” he whispers, letting you taste his minty breath while his fingers drive you just a little bit insane.

“Yeah, when you were in the shower, I missed you. I, I thought of us and my life and how awesome it is to be your mate and then I thought of the sex we’re having and how good you always make me feel.”

“I do. That’s so important to me, baby”, he rasps, kneading your soft buttocks. His touch is needy. He can’t deny it. Feeling your naked skin under his fingertips after such a yesterday is healing him as much as it turns him on. His instincts tell him to get you naked and fuck you until his anger is gone. His love for you tells him to take it slow and really saviour the current moment. As always, the latter wins. It will always win when it comes to you.

“And then I thought about all the things we haven’t done yet. And I never gave you head before and I…” you exhale shakily, giving his shoulders a needy squeeze, “Koo, I really need to have your cock in my mouth. Please can I make the bad yesterday go away? A-and maybe make this morning nice?” 

“Yes, holy fuck, of course you can”, he breathes out, pulling you against his body and claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. 

You almost fall sweet victim to it, but stop yourself before that can happen, breaking the kiss.

He purrs, chasing you. 

“You have to tell me what to do. I really suck at taking the lead”, you confess, giving him shy puppy eyes.

He chuckles, “I can do that. What if I tell you to surprise me? Mhm? That you have free range of my body and I want you to surprise me?” 

He takes your hands and begins guiding them over his bared torso. 

You follow the touch with your eyes, heart racing and breath speeding up. 

“You can touch me wherever you want to.” He makes you trace his pecs. “Feel me up.” He guides your fingers over his ribs. “Turn me on”, he purrs and drags your fingers through the ridges of his impressive abs.

“Kook”, you moan, writhing on his lap. You are soaking through your shorts by now, getting it all over his towel as well. The morning sun shines so beautifully on his skin, really bringing out how muscular he actually is. And just how sun kissed his skin is.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. Why? Because that’s what I’m ordering you to do”, he says, making you trace the glimpses of his pubes sticking out from the towel.

“Oh god”, you whimper, salivating to the point of barely containing it.

“Is this something you can do for me, baby? Can you be my good omega and surprise me?”

“Yes, I can do that”, you press out, voice quivering in excitement. You gulp down your saliva hungrily, spilling some down your chin. You can’t help it. Your body is preparing for his cock in your mouth and it is such a turn on for you.

“Look at you.” He wipes the drool for you. “Does it turn you on to follow my commands?” 

“Yeah, so much. Koo, I want to kiss your chest. Please.”

“Do whatever you want. I’m all yours, baby.” 

“Oh god”, you get out and begin. You can barely breathe. You are so nervous. This is such unexplored terrain for you. Being the one to touch and kiss is new to you. Normally you are the one receiving, but something about Jungkook makes you want to give. It still doesn’t take away the fact that you have no idea how to give. 

His neck first. This is familiar to you and gives you the needed confidence boost. It also really turns you on because his scent spots smell more and more like arousal. It is such a masculine scent, more lethal than any cologne could ever be. Sitting on his lap feels so good as you kiss and suck his neck.

Jungkook is in heaven, eyes closed sensually and body feeling weightless. Your mouth feels amazing on his scent spots, giving him the most intense tingles. It’s different this morning than it was yesterday. The deepest feelings you communicate are still to relax, but the intention is something else. This is meant to relax him so he can take the pleasure you are about to give him without any stresses in his head. And it’s working. Jungkook feels fucking droopy. 

Soon you have enough confidence to take on an unfamiliar path. Down along his collarbones to his chest. Jungkooktakes his hands off your body and puts them behind himself so he can lean back a little. 

You have better access like this, using your fingertips to get used to the unfamiliar paths. Up close like this, his strength is so noticeable. Shit, you are so into him. Feeling a little crazy, you grace your teeth over his skin. Jungkook purrs, pecs twitching as he tenses them in reaction to your bite. 

You shy away instantly, sitting up and covering your mouth behind your hands.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook tries not to show his disappointment, but you still see it. It increases your shyness. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes.

“Why are you sorry, sweetie?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“I just haven’t done this before. Do you even like this?”

“Yes, baby I do. I like it too when I get some loving.”

“Oh.” You squirm on his lap. “This is hot. Do you really like it?”

“I do. It’s nice to lean back and really enjoy it for once.”

“Oh wow, Kook. Okay, this is so hot”, you confess and close the distance. His confession motivates you. It isn’t weird for him to receive as a change. He likes it. It turns him on. 

Dripping pleasure on his lap, you kiss and bite his chest with new found confidence. And Jungkook reacts in deep purrs and tenses of his pecs. His head is rolled back and his eyes are closed. He is utterly lost to the touches, turning you on with his scent and sounds. 

It isn’t long after, that you feel brave enough to take the next step. You take his nipple between your teeth and tug.

“Yeah…fuck” he cups the back of your head, arching into your mouth, “good girl, that’s amazing.” 

His praise makes you shudder. You drool and whimper as you kiss a path to his other nipple to repeat what you did. Suck, lick, bite and tug.

“Yes baby, yes”, Jungkook lulls, petting you in motivation. 

Change sides again. Maybe tug a little harder. Jungkook moans. Change sides. More confidence. Jungkook growls and closes his fingers around your hair. 

“You’re driving me insane”, he gets out under his breath, fighting for his air in deep pants afterwards. 

You have to look at him, kiss him and taste his moans. The kiss starts sloppily. Jungkook feeds you his tongue instantly, holding your hair possessively while his other hand rubs your soaked cunt over your shorts. This is his version of rewarding you for being such a good omega and it makes you mewl into his mouth unapologetically. 

“Koo, I’m so horny”, you confess. 

“Me too, baby. Wanna do disgusting things to you”, he says, giving your swollen clit an especially good rub.

You tremble, giving him your neediest puppy eyes. 

“But you’re not done. Give me more, baby”, he orders and takes his touch away. 

“Oh god.”

It hurts to be denied, but you aren’t sad about it. Being denied means that you can explore him more and you found your new obsession for it. You slip off his lap and kneel down between his legs. He spreads them for you in such a sexy way. With a needy moan, you connect your puffy lips with his upper stomach. You grab his sides, tingling when you can feel him tense up and later shiver. 

“Yeah, holy fuck…” Jungkook moans, rolling his head back and closing his eyes.

You mewl, drooling like crazy. His stomach is so sculpted and strong. Each new inch you explore, you kiss and lick and bite, makes you feel subbier and subbier. He is so strong and you get to worship him. Oh god, this is so hot.

“Keep going, fuck, so good…”

Jungkook gets pleasure through pleasing. This is what he thought was in his nature. This is what an Alpha is supposed to do. Please, give, touch. Jungkook thought that this is what he is supposed to enjoy. 

What you are currently doing, is rewriting his definition of wrong and right. Nothing which is “wrong” feels this fucking good. He is meant to get some loving too. And getting your loving is everything he ever needed.

It makes him desperate in ways which were still unknown to him. As a matter of fact, they get him so needy that he gives you his version of a beg when you finally reach his lower stomach. You are nuzzled into his faint happy trail when he begs.

“Fucking hell, if you don’t take off my towel soon and take care of It, Imma lose my fucking mind.”

You mewl something unintelligible, speeding up in your needy licks. Your hands follow his command while your mouth takes his exposed state to explore his scent spots. 

“Fuck. Woah”, Jungkook gasps, hands falling to your head and legs shaking in surprise. 

“Kook, oh my god. You smell so good”, you whimper, rubbing your face into his inner thighs. You need his scent all over you. 

“Baby, I’m serious. I’ll lose my mind, fuck. Ah fuck”, Jungkook warns, head pounding and cock aching. So this is how it feels to have his scent spots stimulated. No wonder that he regularly forces you into impromptu heat when he does it to you. All Jungkook can think about right now is rutting into you, knotting you and breeding you with his cum until he is alive inside you. The desire gets stronger and stronger and stronger and then it suddenly gets replaced by a new desire. The desire to fuck your pretty face until you are fed a full course meal of cum. 

The reason for his change of mood is your tongue licking his balls vigorously while your hands rub his scent spots. You keen needily as you do it.

Jungkook growls, tugging you away from him by a bundle of your hair. You mewl, gasping for air because of his strong grip.

“Stop teasing me or I’ll punish you”, he growls, but adds in the most loving and soft voice, “okay, baby? Do it for me.”

“Yes, Alpha”, you mewl and lower your head. You give his scent spots a bite each, then finally pay attention to his cock.

You dance a wet path from his balls to his swollen base up to his heated tip with your tongue, wrapping both hands around his base afterwards.

“___ baby…”

Jungkook watches you as you sink him in. Your lips look so good stretching around his girth. His head is pounding. This is the sexiest thing which ever happened to him.

“There we go, take in me”, he praises you, caressing your cheek gently. “What a good omega you are.”

You whimper, sucking on his tip vigorously.

Jungkook frowns, “urgh fucking intense. Yeah that’s it, baby. Suck me off.” 

Drool runs down his shaft, messying your fingers. You use it to your advantage, jerking off his base with it.

“Fuck, so good. Do you like? Mhm, does Alpha taste good, baby?” Jungkook lulls, vision just a little blurry because you suck him off really fucking hard.

You slip off of him, voice quivering as you answer him.

“Alpha tastes so good. Thank you, ah, so much”, you get out, shaking with your entire body. Of course you love it. Your dream is coming true. You get to taste your Alpha’s cock. Your need for him is unbearable. 

You open wide and take him in completely. Your nose hits his crotch, your lips feel his balls.

“Woah. Wait”, Jungkook gasps, stopping you instantly. He even pulls you off of him.

“What?” you ask him, looking up at him with needy eyes.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Force all of me inside. I know I said to stop teasing, but I didn’t mean it like that. You can stay at the tip. You don’t have to push yourself.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you don’t have to make yourself gag for me.”

You widen your eyes in shock, staying silent long enough for Jungkook to become a little nervous.

“What?” he stresses.

“Did you…never get head from an omega before?”

“Why…is this so bad?” 

“No, it’s not. It’s just that…can I show you?”

“Sure?” he sounds unsure, but that’s okay, he will feel amazing in one, two, three. 

Jungkook gasps and tenses up, face falling in utter shock as you take him in completely and instantly start bopping your head up and down quickly.

“Woah, woah, woah. Woah. Fuck, wait. Woah.” 

He somehow manages to pull you off of him again. His cock slaps his abs, leaving a mess of spit and his pleasure. It throbs, begging to be taken in again.

“What was that?” he breathes out, pupils blown out and eyes glowing golden.

“Did you not like it?” 

“You didn’t gag.”

“We, uhm, omegas, you know, we can switch it off.”

“You can?!”

“Yeah, we can. When we’re with someone we really like, it happens automatically and I…” You nuzzle your nose into his scent spot, kissing it a few times before looking up at him. “I didn’t have to switch it off with you.”

“Wait. Oh my god, wait. Does that mean?”

“Yeah, I guess I really like you, Koo.”

“Baby, I’m. Wait, don’t make me get emotional, I-” He cups you cheek. “Baby, my love. Oh my god, my love.”

You giggle, “yeah, I guess it’s out there”, you say and take him back inside. 

“Yeah..it’s out there. Fuck, woah”, Jungkook croaks out and rolls his head back, burying his hand in your hair as deeply as your texture allows it as your warm mouth engulfs him entirely. He twists it a little, having to moan your name as you make him experience pleasure he never felt before.

You moan right with him, having to grasp his waist for support. You need it because it’s very difficult not to lose yourself.

Giving head for an omega is different than for others of the pack. Giving head has an almost drug-like effect on an omega, leaving it delirious and ecstatic. If the person they are giving head to is another omega or a beta, the effect is mild and an omega can easily go back to being normal afterwards. If the person is someone with the Alpha gen, it is a different story. 

Being close to an Alpha’s scent spots, tasting their pleasure and essentially getting bred in one way or another, bring the omega into a state of disillusion and an inability to think for themselves.

In the most disgusting and twisted circles of the werewolf community, evil Alphas use this to get disobedient omegas back under their control. The details of how such cruel acts happen will not be disclosed here, but trust, dear reader, that it is rarely gentle or consensual.

But Jungkook isn’t such an Alpha. Jungkook is kind and loving and gentle beyond anything else. And Jungkook is your true mate, which means that you have even less control over the effects his cock has on you.

You are so greedy for more, clawing at his waist to desperately get more of him inside. You mewl and sob as you do, barely breathing.

“Breathe, my love. Breathe”, Jungkook orders you, despite being so far gone. Because he is a loving Alpha. Because he knows how to make you feel safe. 

Your body obeys his orders because you currently are under his control and fighting your instincts is impossible. You breathe and breathe and breathe. Then get too greedy again. 

His base is starting to swell. Just a little bit. You wrap your left hand around his flushed tip to jerk it off while you connect your messy mouth with his growing knot. You tongue kiss the area sloppily, adding sucks to it as well. An Alpha’s knot is just as sensitive as his cockhead is. Perhaps even a little bit more sensitive. 

“___, holy fuck”, Jungkook gets out, actually closing his legs on you because of how good this feels. He moans loudly, throwing his head back to the point where he loses balance and drops into the pillows. 

He throws his left arm over his own eyes, moaning like a fucking pornstar while the morning sun shines onto his glowing face. He can feel his knot grow. It’s you who does this to him because of how good you make it feel.

“Baby, please don’t stop”, he actually begs, rolling his hips desperately to keep the stimulation going.

“Koo, I’m yours”, you get out and sink him back inside. His knot hinders you from deep throating him, but this doesn’t stop you. You wrap both your hands around his knots, jerking it off in circular motions while your mouth takes care of the rest. 

Jungkook writhes, voice pitching because of how honestly ruined you get him. His hands flail around for a little while, finding their support on the edge of the window bench. He grips it. Which is something totally new to him. He never had to grip something for support before. Especially not the edge of something. He feels like a fucking whore.

“Please don’t stop, it feels so good”, he gets out, squeezing the edge harder. 

Which honestly? It isn’t all that bad to feel this way because you give him so much pleasure. The kind of pleasure he swears should be illegal for an Alpha to feel.

Can people see him? He’s got windows all around him and the sun illuminates him like he is a fucking star. Can people see him? Can they see how the future Alpha of the pack is getting sucked off? Are they fucking jealous of their Alpha? Because he’s got the best wife and they don’t?

“Shit urgh”, he arches his back at the thought of people passing by and jealously watching their future Alpha get head, “don’t stop, holy fuck. Sweetie. I feel fucking high. Aaaahmmm.”

You couldn’t stop even if someone tried to drag you off of him. Jungkook’s constant begs not to stop manifest themselves in your drugged mind as little orders. Don’t stop. Alpha wants more. Don’t stop. You can’t stop even if someone tried to drag you off of him and it’s sacrilegious to you. 

You don’t want to stop. His taste is heaven. His scent is overwhelming. You have never smelled so much fucking pleasure on him. It’s making you even droopier.

“Yes baby, yes. My good omega. My fucking pretty omega”, Jungkook growls, sending you deeper into your delirious headspace.

Oh my god, you fucking love being his good omega. You sob around him, spilling tears. You love being his omega. You love it. You love it. You love it.

Trapped in your ecstatic omega space, you didn’t realise how much sloppier you became with your blowjob until Jungkook’s right hand in your hair lets you know. 

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, he gets out, tensing his stomach.

You mewl, shaking more than he does. You need his high. You need it so fucking bad. You suck him off harder, speeding up your hands around his throbbing knot. Please. You need him.

“Now, baby. ___ baby, now!” Jungkook tries to warn you but to no avail. He climaxes down your throat in thick spurts of his seed, gripping your head with both hands to rut up into you. 

He hits the back of your throat like this, really testing your jaw. Not that you mind. You are so drugged that he could do anything to you and you wouldn’t mind. All you can take in is hot cum down your throat and the ecstatic effect it has on you.

Jungkook comes down after seven thrusts, growling demonically and pulling you off. If he didn’t, his instincts would have kicked in and he would have hurt you. Your mouth is not your cunt. He can’t breed it like he could your pussy. He has to be stronger than his instincts. 

Using his abs, he sits up. His thighs are still twitching.

“Come up here you”, he orders you in a lull, pulling you to your feet and into a sloppy kiss. 

You fall on top of his lap, feeling limp in his arms. Like a little doll unable to use her muscles. Jungkook holds you safely, licking his cum out of your mouth. Tears mix with your drool and his cum. Jungkook instantly tastes them, breaking the kiss in worry. 

A mixture of drool and creamy cum seeps out your mouth, your cheeks are wet in tears. You whimper, desperately trying to get him to kiss you again. You can’t open your eyes, looking so goddamn intoxicated.

“Did I hurt you, sweetie? Is this why you’re crying?”

He can see from the way you move and your face is, that you are currently non verbal in submission. He instinctively knows that he could either break you right now or fix you up depending on how he will use this power.

“Arms up, baby.”

Your body obeys. He takes off your sleep shirt, pressing you against his chest like this. 

Naked skin and naked skin, he begins moving you and him in a slow grind. Your scent spots rub against his’, exchanging not only pleasure but also comfort. It slowly brings you back to him and Jungkook knows that, holding you through it. 

His knot shrinks again in the time, but his cock stays swollen. The situation you and he are in is too sensual and intimate for him to grow soft. His utmost desire still lies in breeding you. Oh, how he wants to breed you, his perfect omega. His. All his.

“Mine. You’re mine. You know that, mhm? You’re my pretty omega. Just mine.” 

“Yours”, you get out. 

“Hey baby, you’re back”, Jungkook breathes and lifts your head by cupping your cheek. “How are you doing? I was a little rough at the end. Is your jaw okay?”

“Yeah ‘s okay. I want more, but it’s so hard to move.”

“I know, baby. Do you trust me?”

You nod your head, leaning into his palm.

“Alpha is safe”, you lull, sending his heart into overdrive. He’s got you feeling safe. Fuck, he would set the whole world on fire if it meant you kept feeling like this.

“Thank you for your trust, baby. Now let me kiss you. You fucking ruined me”, he says and pulls you into a kiss, which you eagerly retort.

He moans deeply, picking you up while his tongue licks onto your mouth. It is like he is starving, like his own taste on your tongue is a drug to him. You moan just as much, writhing in his strong arms.

He carries you to bed like this. Kissing you as if he was starving. He lies you down by the edge of it, breaking the kiss when your head is tangling over the edge. He climbs off bed and rounds you so you have a view of him and his heavy cock between his fingers. He looks so big and veiny like this, forcing drool to the tip of your tongue. You sigh his name, opening and closing your mouth in hunger. You need him so bad.

“Tap your foot if you had enough”, he says and connects his leaking tip with your chin to drag it to your lips. “Now open up.”

You obey gladly, gurgling in ecstasy when Jungkook sinks his leaking cock back into your mouth. 

“That’s it. Take all of me”, he purrs, caressing your cheeks. His eyes are dark, lowered sexily as he gazes down at you. “So beautiful, taking me like this. Is it nice for you?”

You moan around him, nodding your head as best as possible. This is heaven. He fills you out so well. You could honestly orgasm with your throat because of how good it feels. 

“Fuck, it does…fuck, you drive me insane”, he rasps and picks up a rhythm. Finally. Fucking finally. 

You whimper, eyes instantly rolling back and jaw going slack. This is your heaven. This is everything you ever wanted. 

Jungkook watches your blissed reaction with a tingling stomach. He mewls, scrunching his nose and biting his lower lip at the same time. You are so beautiful, turning him on like no one else ever did. Quite frankly, Jungkook wasn’t even aware of how hard his cock can actually get. But being inside you like this, is showing him new sides of pleasure.

“This is so sexy, you have no idea”, he confesses, caressing your soft cheeks, “I’m making love to your face. It’s..hah it’s heaven, seriously.”

You whimper around him, reaching up behind you to touch him. You need to hold him, digging your fingers into the softness of his butt. It forces him to go even deeper, making him moan from the deepest parts of his stomach. He gasps afterwards, abs rippling and thighs twitching.

“Wow. Fuck. Holy fuck, wow”, he lets out, scrunching his face even harder. “So deep. What the fuck, wow.”

You moan with him, spilling tears of joy. He is right, he is so deep. So deep that you can feel his pubes tickle your nose and so deep that you drown in his masculine scent. Your body quivers, throat convulsing around his girth. You scratch down his butt against your will, stopping only when you have his thighs between your claws instead. So tensed and so big. It motivates you to take him even deeper. You lift your head as best as possible, bopping it back and forth on his cock.

“Fuck, your throat…it’s bulging so nicely, I just wanna…” he trails off, ghosting his thumbs over it as if he wanted to choke you. He doesn’t give in, not wanting to hurt you or go too far. 

You however want him to continue. You want him to steal your air and make you his’ in any way possible. You grasp his hands and pull them into place, doing the job for him. 

“___”, your name leaves him in a deep growl, cock throbbing in your tight throat. His strong hand closes around it, forcing it to tighten even more. 

You wail, clasping his lower arms with your claws exposed. 

“You’re so tight. Holy fuck, look at you taking me. Fuck. I can feel myself. Shit, baby. This is so hot”, he is babbling, which is new for him. It is insanely hot, driving you to the brink of insanity.

Air is sparse like this and you want it. You want to choke on his cock. You need it. You need to feel every second of it entering your mouth, every inch of throat he bulges, every tender spot appearing on your neck as he chokes it. 

You feel so high and satisfied and yet at the same time, you ache. You ache for more of him, wishing for something of him to fill you more. And more. More. 

“If you keep moving your hips like that baby, Imma think you’re tryna make me jealous with the air. Why you humping it, hmh?” Jungkook lulls his words, switching his hungry gaze between your fucked face and your needy hips.

You mewl, writhing. You can’t do it. He is tightening his grip on you, burying his thick cock deeper. His balls slap your face as he fucks it, his scent is making you foggy. And now he is teasing you. 

You can’t take it anymore, slipping your hand between your legs to take away the pain. You whimper around him, choking oh so sloppily as your fingers try to make up for the emptiness. Three digits. Three digits are buried inside your weeping cunt and it doesn’t help. You still feel empty, unsatisfied, needy. A fourth one doesn’t make any difference. You pump and twist and fuck your fingers into yourself, hoping that one of those things will scratch the itch, but it doesn’t. It only makes it worse because it makes you miss him.

It was a foggy evening, cold and wet and dark, when Jungkook showed you what his fingers could do for the first time. It happened in the living room, during a movie date which you planned to keep romantic. There were only supposed to be cuddles and snacks. One hour into the movie however, he had you naked and spread out on the couch while he drilled his long, tattooed fingers into your puffy walls. You might have ripped one of the cushions that evening.

And right now, it is haunting you. You want his fingers. Please. His fingers felt so good. He did it so much better, he fucked you so much deeper. Please.

You push him away with your free hand. Jungkook listens, letting his cock slip from your mouth. He holds it over your face, watching the spit drip from his tip back onto your lips.

“Please, it hurts. I want yours”, you beg, thrusting your hips up needily.

“Aww I see. I was already wondering what you were oh so clumsily attempting to do”, he teases you. “Let me do it, sweetie. Don’t worry, your Alpha’s got.”

He slides his hand into your shorts and swipes your hand away, giving you your sweet relief by sinking his long fingers into your dripping cunt. The position naturally allows his palm to press against your clit, applying such warm and intense pressure that you sob his name. He instantly picks up a quick rhythm, forcing you to cry out and claw at his hips in your clumsy attempt to get his cock back inside. He gives in for you, fucking his girth back into you in one harsh thrust. His right hand falls back to your throat, his hips pick up a punishing rhythm. The kind of rhythm which turns your moans into choking gurgles and which constantly slaps his heavy balls against your face. And how it leaves you feeling high. You stopped trying to swallow, letting the spit spill out of you messily and endlessly. It smears all over his cock and your face like this, making the glide so much easier.

“There we go, make those pretty sounds. Try to breathe whenever I pull out, baby. Breathe.”

You obey him. Breathe. Moan. Breathe. Sob. Breathe. Wail. Breathe and breathe and moan some more. You are so utterly his’. 

He has your face fucked, your throat claimed and now your cunt as well. Nothing. Truly nothing is missing.

“Yes baby suck on it. Suck it dry, baby. Suck it, yes baby. Yes. Fuck. Yes.” He is babbling, being loud with you as you shake and writhe your way to your orgasm. 

If this continues, it won’t be long. You are so high on him. So fucking high. Tears stream down your temples, your throat is starting to get sore from his rough breeding. You aren’t aware of it yet because you are truly lost to him. 

He is just as lost. It hasn’t been that long and your pussy is already so lose around his two fingers. Greedily, he slips in his pointer finger and pinkie too. You wail up, throbbing around him as you take his fist.

��Feels good?” 

“Ymgmeahm”, you gurgle out, grasping his hips to the point you leave marks.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, baby. Gonna put some puppies down your throat, make you my fucking cumslut”, Jungkook is losing it, which means that he is just as drugged as you are. Just in his own kind of way.

The kind of way which means that you are getting fucked harder and better. Which also means that he brings you over the edge mere moments later.

“Ah! Baby!” he yelps, legs stuttering. He throws his head back. “___!” 

He orgasms right with you, finding his crescendo deep in throat, which forces you over the edge a second time. And while your screams are muffled by his heavy cock, his scream bounces off the bedroom walls.

He didn’t even know that he could be this fucking loud. Normally, he is always the one who gets his partners screaming. Or in his case ever since he became your true mate, who gets you, his pretty wife, screaming. But this is new. He can scream as well. And it’s fucking needed because you make him feel goddamn invincible like this.

The moments after your highs died down are messy. It should have been enough, but it wasn’t. You want the stretch of his cock while Jungkook feels the need to truly use his strength. No more holding back for the sake of your jaw. 

Besides, he wants to make the cumshots count. He wants to feel fucking alive inside you again. Which has been his favourite thing to do ever since you and he bonded.

You drag yourself out of the position and onto your knees while he tries to make sense of what happened. You pull the shorts off of you, sobbing as you do.

“Please”, you beg, “please more, please.”

“You’re insatiable.”

You begin trembling, looking in pain. If he doesn’t give you another dose of him soon, you will pass out in withdrawal.

“Please, it hurts. Please.”

“Hey, calm down for me” he whispers and cradles your cheeks.

Your body obeys. The shakes stop. You look up into his eyes submissively. He is so tall and dominant, taking up your entire vision. And yet, he is gentle. He holds you with no strength and talks to you in a soothing voice.

“I want you too, but I need to make sure you actually want it. Tell me your honest feelings without taking me in account”, he orders. He knows that your little omega body wants to please him. That everything wants to make sure that he is satisfied. But he wants your truth. 

“Please, I want you. It’s, it’s the truth.”

“Yes? Does my little omega want more?”

“Yes, Alpha. More”, you hug him, feeling so small against him, “please more.”

“God, you drive me insane”, he rasps and lifts you to carry you back to the window sill. He lies you down on it, chuckling when you spread your legs all on your own. 

Your pussy is throbbing. She is so wet and puffy. 

“Fuck sweetie, I’m so lucky to have you. Can’t believe I get to fuck such a pretty pussy”, he purrs and sticks his cock into you.

You wail up, arching your back. Tears instantly shoot to your eyes and your body trembles.

“Shit sorry, I forgot to warn you. You okay?”

“Thank you, Koo thank you”, you sob, writhing in ecstasy.

“Mhhhm babyyyy, you drive me insane”, he purrs and grabs your hips to pull them up and on his cock. Your legs hook themselves over his lower arms, your body is bent so he can drill you oh so deep.

“Such a good omega. Fuck, keep moaning for me”, he encourages you, staring down at you with obsession in his golden eyes.

Your eyes are closed, your mouth is open. Your body writhes and shakes. Your skin is glowing in a sheer layer of sweat, reflecting the sunlight. Fuck, it looks so pretty on your nipples. How plumb they are. 

Jungkook pinches them, soaking up the wail you let out because of it. They leak a little, making the massage easier. 

“Fucking look at you. You’re fucking meant to be bred”, he growls. His hips rut into you without him having to concentrate on moving. It’s instinct. He’s inside his omega and his body knows exactly what to do.

“How are you that good?” he rasps, staring at you with a dizzy head.

“Good…what?” 

“Good at making it all better.” He thrusts into you as if he is trying to reward you for your mere existence. “Good at distracting me.” Another thrust, a twist of your nipples, quivers down your legs. “Good at being you. Perfect, amazing you.” He fucks into you with each word, knocking the most delicious moans out of you.

He pulls out of you just to watch your slick spill from your puffy cunt. He runs his heavy cock through it, playing with your stretched entrance. 

“You’re just so fucking good”, he rasps and pushes back inside. 

You wail, arching your back.

“Please rougher”, you beg instantly.

“Like this? Do you like it?” 

“More. Please, more. Kook please.”

Jungkook feels invincible when you are like this. It hasn’t been long since you and he have bonded. It has been three months, two weeks and one day to be exact. Jungkook counted the days. It hasn’t been long, but it has been long enough for you and him to fuck way too many times. You just love it too much. It is as if you can’t stop doing it. 

Whenever he gets you like this, so cockdrunk and needy for his rougher sides, Jungkook feels invincible. He wants to fulfil your every wish and keep you safe. This is your shared moment. Only he will ever see you so submissive and vulnerable and he would be damned if he didn’t keep you safe while he rearranges your insides.  

He lifts you up onto the window bench so you are kneeling on all fours and looking outside. He joins you on top of it. Your body falls to the front, colliding with the window. He slams his hand on the glass right above your hand, eyes shifting to the world outside. He towers over you, letting anyone know that trying to take you from him would end in fucking death. You’re his’. 

“Is this alright for you? Wanna make the world see how good we fuck?” he makes sure because he knows that once you are high on pleasure, you can’t really think for yourself anymore. He wants to make sure that you are aware of what is happening to you, that you always have a chance to change something.

“Yes, okay. Just please. Harder.” 

“Anything you want. Take me, baby. All of me.” He fills you up from behind, slinging his strong arm around you to hold you against his strong chest. “Let everyone see who makes you feel that good.”

You sob his name, sinking back into him. Your head hits his chest, your fingers grasp his lower arm. 

“Happy, so happy”, you whimper, drooling on his arm.

“Me too, baby. So happy”, he rasps, drilling his huge cock into you. The sunlight hits it each time he pulls out, really showcasing just how fucking wet you get him. “You like how I fuck you, sweetie?”

“Yeah, rough. So good”, you mewl, writhing in his arms.

“Mhm what a good omega you are, fuck”, Jungkook growls and slips his left hand to your pussy. He takes your swollen clit between his fingers and begins playing with it.

Of course you wail up because of it. Of course your pussy throbs around his cock. And of course you arch your back in the prettiest of ways.

Jungkook watches your nipples leak in pleasure, going insane because in the same fucking view he can also see how his cock is entering you repeatedly. He’s so big that your stomach bulges each time he ruts into you. Leaking nipples and cock filled tummies. Jungkook growls at the view, biting your neck right on your scent spot.

You sob his name, limp body shaking in his arms and legs quaking. He is going to make you climax. You’re his’. And now the whole pack is going to see.

Months ago, the thought of sealing your bond so publicly scared you. Right now, the potential of being watched is ecstatic to you. This is the future pack Alpha who’s fucking like this and you’re the girl he chose as his queen.

“You know that I’m so happy it’s you?” He rasps into your ear while his fingers torture your puffy clit to an orgasm. “You know that I wouldn’t want it any other way?”

Bonds between Alphas and omegas are rare in the werewolf community. Alphas don’t want to risk their pups being born with the omega gen and therefore most Alphas bond with other Alphas to guarantee their offspring to have the Alpha gen. Sex between Alphas and omegas is a more common thing, but marriage? Not that much. Too many risks. 

Sometimes you feel so wrong as Jungkook’s mate. You know how his father thinks of you and there are probably others in the pack who share his feelings. Being Jungkook’s mate bears the risk that your pups are going to be born as omegas too. It’s a risky marriage. 

Hearing Jungkook talk like this as he fucks you against the windows for everyone to see, changes you as a person.

“I gotta be the luckiest fucking Alpha out there, baby. I have a pretty omega as my wife. I’m the goddamn luckiest bastard.”

“Jungkook”, you mewl, grasping his hair as his words send you off the edge.

“You liked that, didn’t you? What a pretty omega you are cumming for me. That’s it, sweetie. Cream my cock, good omega. Such a good girl”, he talks you through it, rubbing your clit as he writes his name on your throbbing walls.

Panickedly, you reach down to get his hand to stop. He is stronger than you, torturing you and holding you close.

“I-I will- Jung- I- please”, you stutter.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let’s show the pack how prettily my omega can squirt.”

“Jungkook”, you wail, sinking into yourself as he sets you off. 

He growls, pressing you against the window as he fucks the pretty liquid out of you.

“Yes princess, yes. Urgh what a good omega you are. Give me everything. That’s it”, he talks you through it. Of course he does. Jungkook always talks you through your orgasms, which is reason on its own to be totally crazy. You’ve got this sexy, strong Alpha as your mate and on top of it all, he always talks you through it.

You’ve got to be luckiest omega in existence. 

Jungkook is rougher after your high. His voice is deeper too. His grip is punishingly strong.

“I need to use your body. Can I? I’m so close.”

“Please”, you beg and sob when seconds later, you get pushed down into the pillows. The top of your head is pressed against the window, the sun shines right onto your face. You can’t open your eyes, crying tears because you are so sensitive and he drills you as if you have a debt to pay.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry, it’s gonna be over soon. I’m sorry”, he chants, keeping you down with one hand on your head. He hates seeing you cry, but it’s impossible to stop. He needs to rut, breed you and make you his’. “I’m so fucking sorry. Oh god, baby. I can’t stop.”

Something holds him back. Maybe it’s guilt. He doesn’t want to do this to you, but can’t stop. Fuck, why can’t he cum? Jungkook ruts even harder despite not wanting to. He feels so fucking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t- I-”

“Feels so good, Koo. Koo. Please Koo”, you sob and shut off his guilt for breeding you with such strength.

The intense pleasure returns, hitting him with such intensity that Jungkook arches his back and throws his head back.

“___!” he moans, feeling his orgasm finally hit him. “Holy fuck”, he gets out, falling to the front. He cushions his fall with one arm against the window, dropping his head against it as he fills you with his creamy cum in heavy spurts. 

You sob his name, finding one more high because of his cum, but you know that you couldn’t take any more afterwards. You are ruined. This was the last thing your drugged omega body needed to be completely satisfied. Now you are finally filled up with him on both ends. Your tummy is truly only there to carry his pleasure. What a perfect life you are living.

Jungkook finishes with a growl of your name, then a tremble of his body and a curse. 

“Holy fuck, sweetie”, he croaks, pulling you up into his arms. He kisses and nuzzles you instantly, whispering the sweetest words repeatedly, “I love you, I love you, oh sweetie. My sweetie, I love you.” 

“I…I love you too.”

“What?” 

He pulls out and turns you, cradling your cheeks. His eyes are widened, racing between yours in urgency.

“What did you just say?”

“I love you too.”

“You don’t mean that”, he seems in disbelief, voice quivering.

“I do.”

“No. No, you don’t. Baby”, his lower lip quivers. He pulls you closer, tilting your head up so you can still look at each other. You are so close like this that you feel his breath tickle your lips as he talks, “tell me you’re not serious.”

“But I am”, you insist, touching his waist, “Koo, I love you.”

Jungkook laughs, eyes filling with tears.

“___, my love”, he chokes out, picking you up just so he can dance through the room with you. “Oh baby, I love you. Baby.” 

“Koo, I’m leaking. Please no twirls. It’s going everywhere”, you squeak, trying so hard to clench your pussy. 

“Doesn’t matter. Just leak on me. Oh baby, you make me so happy”, he says and drops on the bed with you. 

He buries you under him, attacking your face with too many kisses to count. He cradles your cheeks for it, making you giggle and squeal because it is so nice to be adored this way. 

“Oh baby, my baby”, he kisses your forehead and cheeks, “I could melt with you”, he pulls your head up to repeatedly kiss your lips. 

Once he stops, you feel butterflies in your tummy and warmth in your chest.

“But how are you? How’s your jaw?” he rubs it gently, “How’s your pussy? I was so rough. Is there anything hurting?” 

You shake your head, “just a little sensitive, but it’s nice.” 

“Yeah? And your tummy?” He rubs it. “I fed you a lot of cum. How are you handling it?”

You place your hand over his’, smiling at him goofily, “I feel like I could do anything.”

“Yes? Oh sweetie”, he nuzzles against your scent spot, “you have no idea how happy I am. I can’t shut up. The way you made me feel, it’s. Wow.” He laughs breathily. “Wow, I never felt this way before. I literally can’t shut up about it. I feel, wow.” He falls to his back and kicks his feet in the air, giggling. “Fuck, I could do anything! Ah!” He exclaims and stretches his limbs from himself in starfish position. 

You giggle, rolling over repeatedly until you are snuggled into his side again. Jungkook flips to his side, closing his arms around you. He purrs, kissing your forehead. Afterwards he just kind of lets the view of you sink in. He traces your temple and ear softly as he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, letting shyness appear in your eyes. “It sucks that I can’t share with everyone how you make me feel when our bodies connect”, he speaks softly.

“I feel like we kinda shared it a little.”

You and Jungkook glance at the window bench. The windows are dirty to the point where the sunlight looks a little milky through it. You look back into each other’s eyes, cracking up at the same time.

You and he giggle like teenagers doing something harmless yet forbidden. 

“I can’t believe that we did that”, he confesses.

“Me neither. Oh my god. Do you think someone saw us?” 

“I lowkey hope someone did and they tell my dad…” He kisses the tip of your nose. “...that his son has the best, most beautiful wife ever. And that he loves her so much.”

“I’m sure that they would also tell him that happiness looks so good on his son and that she loves him too. And that their bond is forever, no matter what anyone says.”

Jungkook’s features soften, “oh baby” he whispers, caressing you under your eye, “you’re just so…” his eyes glimmer in adoration, “... goddamn perfect.” 

You lean into his touch, rubbing his chest mindlessly. He kisses your forehead, nuzzling you into him afterwards. He draws hearts on your back while you melt in his embrace. 

He studies the windows you and he dirtied. The prints of his hands are next to the prints of your tits and the spots where he made your squirt. He feels so proud and giddy. He did that with you. Wow, he will think about this forever. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks in a quiet purr.

“A little. Why?”

“Just making a mental plan on how to spend the rest of our day. Just wanna cook for you and take care of you.” 

“Cooking sounds nice. I’m so sleepy though. I’m sorry it’s suddenly so hard to...talk.”

“No wonder. You’re coming down.”

“You’ll hold me, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’ll hold you. Just relax, I’ll make sure that nothing happens.”

You sigh in relief, growing softer and smaller now that he reassured you that it was safe for you to relax. Omegas rarely can function normally after sex. After basically being high and doing everything to chase pleasure, an omega’s body is spent. Most omegas use what little strength they have to flee to somewhere safe and hide away until it passes. Knowing that you have Jungkook as your protector and safe space to hide in, makes the entire recovery process a moment of healing. You won’t ever have to flee. You have someone safe who will be with you. 

“I love you”, you whisper with your last strength.

“I love you too, my sweetie”, he whispers.

You fall asleep in his arms and Jungkook stays with you for a while until he is sure that you are safely gone in your slumber. He tugs you in as he leaves to shower and begin preparing breakfast.

He wants you to wake up to your favourite dishes being finished and your favourite flowers waiting on your bedside table. And as he cooks, he dances to his favourite music. He hasn’t danced in ages, but being your mate makes him want to do the things he loved doing when his mental health wasn’t terrible. Being your mate makes him want to heal and become happier again. Life isn’t all bad, it really isn’t, Jungkook thinks and sings as he dances. Life isn’t all bad.

[simpjaes]

NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)

Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 4.5k

WARNINGS―  dub-con since reader doesn’t know it’s him. 

CONTENT― office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol

 NOTE ― this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, umm…finger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?

Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. He’s lucky he doesn’t have his camera on just yet, you’d have seen the embarrassing reaction to…well…hearing you of all people.

He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” You say. 

“Ah, uh–” Sunghoon pauses. There’s no way it’s actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? “What type of call did you request again?” 

“Full service.” You remind him. 

Oh. You’re into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?

You…just paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?

God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesn’t involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, you’ve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either but…you’ve blatantly seen him do it already.

He wonders how long you’ve been seeing this part of him, how long you’ve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people. 

As detrimental as this is, it’s his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He can’t be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible. 

“Right,” Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. “Can I get your name, babe?” 

You’re quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if you’d give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and there’s another chuckle after. 

He knows you’re lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, you’re the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, you’ve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isn’t your name. 

 Smart girl, just like he knew you were. 

“Is that so?” He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. “Alright, and you’ll do everything I say, yes?” 

You nod to no one, realizing he can’t see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of “of course.”

His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on display– only half hard. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that it’s time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. “Don’t hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.”

Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone. 

And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, you’re calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself. 

He’s good at it too. You can’t help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, “That feels good, doesn’t it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isn’t that right?” 

Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call. 

Safe to say, you’re feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Fuck, he can’t even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night. 

Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to. 

Not after you did cum for him. 

“Mr. Park–” You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat. 

God, if you had called him that last night…

“Hm?” He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. “What is it?”

“I got the statements back from our parent company, I think–”

“Great. Just set them down on my desk.” He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.

What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. What’s worse is that you’re not his fucking co worker. You’re his employee.

You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, he’ll at least give you a smile and a “thank you.” 

“Mr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?” You ask with concern in your voice.

Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe he’s just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isn’t you at all. After all, there’s plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didn’t even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway. 

Maybe he just wishes it was you. 

“No, I’m fine–” He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name. 

You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name. 

“Ah, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.” 

You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home. 

It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldn’t possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, so…you choose to believe it’s a crazy coincidence. 

You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small “It’s okay, you know where I am if you need anything.”

What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work. 

And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.

How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you but…it really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he can’t help but actually check you out now. 

You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for him…and now you’re just sitting there in your business casual outfit like he’s not unintentionally getting hard. 

So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you. 

You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, he’s walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant. 

And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers. 

Naturally, you’re frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, you’ve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay. 

You’re more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. He’s colder than usual, he’s stiffer than usual, he’s– a fucking asshole these days.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ping! 

Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief. 

NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]

$500 PENDING. 

FULL SERVICE.

Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while? 

[ACCEPT REQUEST]   [DECLINE REQUEST]

Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him. 

He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you? 

His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh. 

Why did he just do that?

Wait. 

Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if it’s just through audio and visual stimulation. 

After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.

This is dangerous. 

Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, he–oh, he’s so turned on right now just thinking about it.

And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if he’s been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and he’s immediately turning his camera on. 

“Ah, look who it is,” Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. “Had me wondering if you’d come back to me.”

You don’t know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day. 

“I was wondering the same thing,” You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he can’t see it. “I just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. “Wanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information for–”

“God.” You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. “My fucking boss.”

Sunghoon’s ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice. 

“I swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now he’s just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.” 

Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man that…unfortunately, is that very same boss.

“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. “Your boss isn’t praising you.” 

You pause, feeling a ping in your gut. 

“If I were him, I’d praise you every day–” Sunghoon softens his voice. “Every night.”

“Oh…” You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen. 

“Wouldn’t let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.” He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. “If I were your boss–”

You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.

“Mm, you like that?” He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. “The thought of your boss liking you a little too much?”

You hum. Not that you’ve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that he’s said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what he’d do if he were him? 

You guess, for tonight anyway, you’re into it. 

“What’s his name, babe?” Sunghoon asks, wondering if you’ll actually out his name to a stranger. 

“Park Sunghoon.” You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice. 

Damn.

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. “I’d fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.” 

You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like you’re his boss, you’re the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else. 

“See this?” The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. “Watch me, baby, get a good look.”

And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. You’re not even touching yourself at this point, but it’s like you can feel the force of it.

“Now, I need you to open those legs for me.” He instructs you. 

You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up. 

“Now, turn on your camera.”

Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.

“What?” You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. “I requested for no c-”

“No.” Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. “You do as I say.” 

He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end. 

“I want to see that pussy open for me.” He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. “I want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.”

You don’t know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yet– 

“Do I have to show you my face?” You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself. 

“No,” Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. “I already told you what I want to see.”

More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end. 

“Open your legs and turn it on.” He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if you’ll actually do it.

And…

Oh fuck.

“There she is.” Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didn’t think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you. 

Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time he’s ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image. 

After all, it’s confirmed to be you. 

Fuck, that’s you right there. 

“Already so wet too?” Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm. 

You’re very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him. 

“Oh, baby–” Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. “That’s not going to work.”

You’re more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image he’s witnessing. 

“How am I supposed to show you how much better I’d take care of you?” He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. “I bet that boss of yours wouldn’t want to bury his tongue in you like I would.”

Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly. 

“That’s it, you need someone to touch you, don’t you?” He continues, watching you intensely. “Need someone to lick that pretty pussy?”

You nod, once again forgetting that he can’t see you do it before you finally speak.

“Please.”

His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too. 

“You deserve some love for all that hard work.” He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. “Play with yourself, go on. You need it.”

You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release. 

“Feel it– not too hard, just graze over your panties.”

Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request. 

And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning. 

“Your other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt and–”

He doesn’t even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit that’s restricted by your panties. 

You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesn’t have to be your hands doing this. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. “Now, look at me.”

You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom. 

“You see how hard I am right now?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. “Never been this hard for anyone else.”

Oh, that’s bullshit. He does this as a job. He’s just sweet talking to you for sure. 

“Been thinking about you since the first time you booked me.” He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you don’t press on yourself too hard either. “Was hard all week for you.”

Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, it’s exactly what you need to hear right now. 

“You're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?” Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. “You’re going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?” 

Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him. 

You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him. 

“Messy, messy, messy.” Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he can’t ruin this moment. 

That’s your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy. 

“Gently still, open up for me.” Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick. 

Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, he’s nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.

“Fuck–” He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. “I want you so bad.”

Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?

“What’s the name of your boss again?” Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it. 

He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.

“What’s his name, baby?” Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. “I wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.”

Alluding to the fact that the only reason you’re paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way. 

“Park-” You start, not wanting to deny his demands. “Sunghoon.”

“Ah, yeah.” Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. “Two fingers babe, slide them in.”

God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.

He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh. 

“Spread your fingers, open up.” 

You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.

“Now, say–” Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you Sunghoon.”

Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name. 

“Say, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.” 

He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break. 

“Because, if it weren't for him, I wouldn’t be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?”

In your horny brain, it makes sense.

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure. 

And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, you’ve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset. 

“Again.” He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name. 

“Thank you Sunghoon.” You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. “Thank you.”

And, well, that very name you’re moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping you’re watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.

Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too. 

Shit. 

He needs you.

“Thank him for what?” Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly. 

“For making me come to you!” You answer him as if you’re frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper. 

“What else?” He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing. 

“Hmm?” You answer in a drawn-out moan.

“Thank him for what else?” He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. “For giving you a reason to cum.”

“Yes!” You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly. 

“So fucking pretty” Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you that– “Fuck–” He moans your name. “So pretty.”

And he didn’t realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, he’s still moaning as he watches you halt what you’re doing and cover yourself entirely.

“What did you just call me?” You ask in an out of breath voice. 

Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.

“No. You just called me–” You repeat your real name to him. 

“Ah, sorry babe, must’ve gotten tongue tied.”

There’s a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. There’s….no fucking way. 

Given, you’ve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesn’t click in your head as Sunghoon’s either, considering he’s never a man of very many words. 

Instantly, you’re covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like he’s waiting, like he’s listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?

Are you misreading? 

He seems calm, and if it really is Sunghoon…surely he’d be disconnecting right now, right?

Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! You’re the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, there’s a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets. 

Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.

“Mr.Park?”

It’s silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness. 

You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage. 

You almost thought you were wrong, but– he disconnects. 

A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars. 

And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.

Mr.Park: Can we talk?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

― part two here!

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙love language | CL16 LN4˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x reader y/n (she/her) x lando norris

genre: social media au, polyamorous relationship

warnings: polyamory, dates on tweets make no sense to the story lol ignore them im srsly lazy & idc tbh

summary: in which your boyfriends love languages seem to be polar opposites

a/n: ur wish is my command also im fr running out of plot ideas on my own for the poly reqs LOLL so if u got any ideas then spam my inbox bbyyy

request!!!: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE more poly lando and charles (and kika)

fc: jules leblanc

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

francisca.cgomes

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 414,789 others

francisca.cgomes ☕️ yum

view all 12,053 comments

user2 kikayn my favourite bffs 😻

user3 waiting for lando & charles to comment

user4 charles lando come get ur girl

pierregasly that girl is a bad influence on you babe

yourusername i know ur not talking about me

francisca.cgomes crickets...

yourusername he's scared of me. iktr

francisca.gomes as he should be

landonorris next time i will succeed.

user5 LANDO

pierregasly in what exactly 🤨

francisca.cgomes he wants me dead

landonorris never said that

yourusername you kind of did

landonorris not explicitly

charles_leclerc lando stop causing fights

pierregasly yea lando.

yourusername he's all talk dw

francisca.cgomes yea keyboard warrior much

landonorris pipe down

charles_leclerc my girl so pretty

yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

francisca.cgomes this is why ur my favourite charles

charles_leclerc ❤️

user6 the difference in replies between charles & lando 😂

user7 most chaotic comment section award goes to...

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 216,823 others

yourusername ...fourple?

tagged: francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc, landonorris

view all 4,270 comments

pierregasly leaving me out why?

yourusername u hate me i fear 😔

francisca.cgomes not true he's just intimidated by u

user8 justice for y/n

user9 they do poly so naturally

user10 the third pic omggggg y/n & her boys

liked by yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc

user11 she's so gorgeous

francisca.cgomes no just ditch them both for me actually!

yourusername well..... actually yes

francisca.cgomes YESSSS i wonnnn

landonorris 🤨

pierregasly 😤

charles_leclerc 😢

landonorris ilyyy hot girl

charles_leclerc mon amour ❤️

user12 i'll never get over lando & charles' completely opposite love languages 😂

liked by yourusername

user13 they r so real i luv them

yourusername posted a story

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 113,077 others

user14 "double" date or third wheel y/n?

user15 CUTIES

user16 kika my 2nd fav wag after u ofc

user17 oh to be a fly on the wallllllll

oscarpiastri are you holding him hostage

yourusername dont you start too

oscarpiastri 🤐

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 301,185 others

yourusername home alone for a week 🏝️

view all 3,747 comments

user18 AWWWW home alone no charlandoyn content

user19 aww lonely girl

francisca.cgomes this is why u need me

yourusername im actually independent

landonorris kika ur obsessed with my gf it's weird

pierregasly bro ur gf is obsessed with my gf too...

francisca.cgomes it's called love. obviously

charles_leclerc i support it 😊

landonorris stfu

pierregasly be quiet charles

yourusername we love charlie <3

charles_leclerc 🥰

user20 will their comment sections ever be normal

user21 i jus know they miss her sm

user22 she's too cool

messages ->

instagram ->

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by francisca.cgomes, landonorris, and 427,911 others

user23 OMGGG UR WITH Y/N

user24 favs omg

user25 aesthetic affff

user26 perfect couple (should i say throuple?)

francisca.cgomes ugh you guys are back stealing her from me

charles_leclerc you snooze you lose

yourusername posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 88,283 others

user27 love language strikes again

user28 he's soo sweet and attentive

user29 i want what they have

user30 lomls

charles_leclerc i love you

yourusername ❤️ love you

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 95,162 others

user31 LANDOOOO

user32 LOL this is sooo lando i love him

user33 obsessed with him

user34 i am once again saying opposite love languages

user35 he loves u so much

oscarpiastri i wish my boyfriend would do this!

yourusername hands off, piastri

oscarpiastri 😂

carlossainz55 he is so expressive

liked by yourusername

twitter ->

instagram ->

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 826,103 others

charles_leclerc happy to be home 🏡

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

view all 11,426 comments

user43 omg the last pic HAHAHA

user44 is that lando with the bows 😂

landonorris no comment

user45 obsessed with this

user46 y/n reveal charles' love language immediately

user47 TELL USSSS @.yourusername

yourusername words of affirmation of course!

user48 im in love w all 3 of them

francisca.cgomes the third pic awwww cuties

yourusername 😘

landonorris being nice all of a sudden?

charles_leclerc don't question it just be happy!

yourusername i love you!!!

charles_leclerc i love you our girl

landonorris 🧡🧡🧡

user49 charlandoyn you will always be famous

landonorris

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 782,538 others

landonorris back where i belong

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

view all 14,402 comments

user50 AWWW

user51 they love y/n sm it's so cute

user52 omg lando being sincere & sweet :))

user53 in his charles era

yourusername aww my sweetest boyy

user54 lando love language reveal y/n!!!

yourusername acts of service ofc 😊

user55 omg🥹🥹🥹🥹

user56 y/n is so gorgeous in the second pic

user57 literally majestic

user58 charles & y/n in the third pic omg me when

user59 i want what they have

charles_leclerc perfect perfect boy

yourusername in every way :)))

landonorris stop it guys im blushing......

THE END ❤️🧡

[madamechrissy]

Your series is on toppp, i was always waiting for your new post especially that gojo series lmao. Anyways, can we get a gojo x innocent!reader?? Make them likee childhood friend and gojo takes her virginity lolll.

Thank you sm love, I hope you enjoy it <3 You know I've never given Gojo a virgin in anything, it's his first time for me lmaooo! 🩷🩷🩷

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x virgin reader

Contents/warnings: cute fluff, friends to lovers, first time/loss of virginity, oral sex (M and F receiving), explicit sex, pet names, not much plot lol, just smut fr

Word Count:: 3.7k

🩷 First Time 🩷

You are sitting next to Satoru on his couch as you all watch one of his silly movies. He has laid out a million snacks and treats for the night, including bowls full of Halloween candy from yesterday. Yes, Satoru was twenty two and yes, he still went trick or treating, you’d been dragged along with him all night last night, running from house to house.

Your feet still hurt, you’re wincing and rubbing them, and Satoru looks over at you with his stupidly pretty eyes, eyes you should be used to after being friends for ten years, but sometimes they… well they did things. Satoru seems to be clueless at his effects on you, how when he tickles you, you gasp, how when he pulls you against him, you sigh and inhale his scent.

You’re pretty bad at hiding it.

Suguru and Shoko make fun of you endlessly, but you are just too afraid to ruin your friendship. But then, you’ve also non stop turned down men, left and right, pining away for him. It certainly was not the best way to go about things, but you’re holding out for him to be your first. Even though it’s foolish to think it will happen, you can’t help but wait for him.

Satoru was not dating anyone, he really had not dated much since high school, he would have a fling here and there, but mostly he spent time working and then with his friends. With you.

“Feet hurting? Bring ‘em to Daddy.” He teases with a smirk, and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gosh, Satoru. You really gonna rub ‘em?”

“Sure am, it’s my fault they hurt. C’mere.” You lean back on the couch and prop your feet up on his lap, as his long fingers press into the soles of your feet, you moan a bit, and he pauses, looking at you.

“Sorry.” You say, flustered and overheated, and Satoru looks back at the movie, his tall, lithe body leaning back against the cushions.

“No need to say sorry, it feels good hmm?” He teases, as you try to focus on the movie, but he’s pressing his fingers deeper, and massaging your feet so good your eyes flutter shut.

“Very good, oof thank you.” You say softly, going to pull them back a bit, but Satoru now has raised his massage to your ankles. You gasp. “That tickles!”

“Does it? You’re so ticklish.” He’s running little circles on your ankles then, and your thighs shift as his hands slip even higher, to your calves.

“That feels… really good, mmm.” You whisper, wishing it meant less to you, wishing you did not treasure and drink in every bit of your best friend. His shiny white hair, his perfect straight nose, model cheekbones and pouty lips. Satoru Gojo was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that.

His little smirk and how his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, his laugh when he’s being silly, how his body looks in that black skin tight gym shirt, his biceps curling as he’s gently brushing your legs. You bite your lower lip then, as he’s still watching the movie, his touches lighter, little caresses down your legs.

“You have nice legs.” You sputter then, mouth wide, and he peeks at you, a little blush on his cheeks. “What you do.”

“Um… what? I do?” He looks down at your thighs now, and when his huge hands cover them, you can’t stop the little whimper, drawing his attention to you.

“You doing alright over there?” He asks then, raising a brow, and you cover your face now.

“I have to say something.” You shift your legs down, and Satoru pouts.

“I was having fun playing with them, meanie.”

“Satoru…” You lean forward on the couch, touching his shoulders gently. “I really have to tell you something.”

“Go on then, silly girl.” He taps your nose with a little smile. You take a deep breath, looking into his swirling blue eyes then.

“I want you to be my first.”

“What!?” He’s sputtering now, and jumps up, and then you jump up, turning away and covering your face.

“I’m so stupid, of course you wouldn’t. You’re Satoru Gojo, you can have anyone. And you’re experienced. And-”

“Hey, hey.” Satoru’s hands are on your shoulders behind you now, and you tense a bit at the touch, heart racing. “You’re prettier than anyone I’ve been with, it’s not anything like that.”

“Shit, really? You think I’m pretty?” You whisper, looking back at him, and he exhales, hands squeezing a bit, nodding.

“Of course you are, silly. I tell you that you look cute all the time, do I not?”

“Cute. Not pretty.”

“Well, you’re cute and pretty. And… you’re a virgin?” He turns you to him then, and you nod shyly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Why me the first time, why not a boyfriend?”

You sigh then, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself. “You’re who I want it with. We can stay friends, it doesn’t have to like ruin it, you don’t have to date me.”

He blinks his white lashes then, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t I wanna date you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

“And I like you, a lot. I always have. I thought… Well, I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

“What!?” It’s your turn now, and he smirks a bit.

“Well, I’m half naked in front of you constantly, and I barely see you check me out.”

“I do! But I look away when you look at me. You don’t check me out!”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes dart down your body now, and it’s as if he’s touching you, as he looms over you, so tall, so sexy. “I look away when you look at me. Now, you really want a first time, you have to be my girlfriend, I’m no hussy.” He states, putting his hand to his chest, and you laugh then.

“I can absolutely do that. How do we seal this boyfriend/girlfriend status then? A selfie? A pinky swear?” You step closer, trailing a hand up his chest now.

“Mmm, all of the above. But first, this.” Satoru leans down now, kissing you for the first time, his soft, plump lips pressing on yours, and you gasp at it, before kissing him back, putting pressure on his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, on your tip toes. Satoru moans softly, pulling back, his hands on your waist, then his eyes lock onto yours.

“Toru… that’s perfect.” You murmur softly, as you still feel the tingles of your lips, then you realize you have a tear sliding down your cheek. Satoru swipes it away gently, tilting up your chin and bending down, lips against your ear.

“I wanna have you cumming so hard you scream my name, pretty tears falling out of those pretty eyes.” Your body reacts viscerally, your nipples pressed against the little tank top you’re wearing, as he nips your ear then, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

“Please.” Satoru’s kissing down your neck now, hands on your hips, feeling your every curve, your hands enwrap in his silky hair, gasping when he picks you up in his arms like it’s nothing.

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” You melt at his words, as he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and sliding up your tank then, revealing your breasts, he exhales as he sees them, nostrils flaring. “Holy… they’re so fucking pretty.”

“You like them?” You ask shyly, and he nods eagerly.

“Take it off, please, be a good girl for me.” You’re dripping wet already, as you lean up and pull the top over your head, your tits bouncing gently. He’s gripping them in his big hands then, squishing them and running his thumbs over your nipples, your back arches. “Tell me what you like, don’t hold back, I want to learn all of you.”

“That feels good, it feels so good.” You say softly, and he then kisses down to each peak, sucking them into his hot mouth. “S’good, mmm!”

He hums a bit, his big hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, as he finds your shorts, pulling them down. “So, do you masturbate Miss Virgin?”

“Jerk, ugh. Of course I do, ah!” He’s kissing and nipping on your rib cage now, looking at you with his eyes dilated, pupils so big there’s just a ring of that brilliant blue now.

“Show me what you do, then I’ll know where you like to be touched most.” He’s taking your hand now, grinning with those white teeth. “Aw, ya blushing?”

“Well, y-yes. Um… I don’t finger myself, I just rub my clit.”

“Of course, those small little fingers, they can’t hit good.” He holds his fingers out, double your length, so long you clench around nothing imagining them, getting wetter when he presses your finger to your clit. “That’s it, pretty, show me.”

You rub your clit in circles, aching for him, as he stands up, taking off his shirt then, and you drink in his body hungrily, as he drinks in yours. “Fuck you’re gorgeous Satoru.”

“And you’re gorgeous, best friend. Girlfriend. Shnookums.”

“Shnookums!”

“Tossing cute names around.” He’s sliding his jeans off now, just in his dark blue boxers, then you see that outline, making you heat up even more with such strong desire. “Go ahead, keep going, you’re doing good.”

“Want you to touch me.” You whisper, as he sits back on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight, watching as your finger is playing between your lips, taking your hand gently and sucking on your finger then. “Oh!”

“Yummy. Need to taste you.” He says then, his voice husky, you are crying out when he rubs his fingers along your folds, down your slit, where wetness is pooling down to your entrance.

“Toru!” Your hips buck up when he runs circles on your clit, eyeing you carefully now.

“Have you had anything inside this pretty pussy at all?” He asks, sliding down to lay between your thighs now, his hands pressing into the plush of them as he spreads them wide. “So perfect.”

“No, I haven’t.” You admit, then gasp out when he slides one of his thick, long fingers inside you. “Ah… ah!”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He pecks little kisses on your thighs, nipping as he studies you, pressing on a spot now that makes you see stars. “There it is.”

You’re falling apart as he pumps that long finger in, before stretching it to two, which is so hard to take, you can barely get to his first knuckles. “Toru, it’s too much… too much…”

“Aww you can take it, can’t you? Gotta stretch this tight little pussy for me, I’m a lot bigger than those fingers.” You can hear the squishing of your wetness as he kisses closer and closer, and you’re entangling your fingers in his hair, pressing against his scalp. “You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak then, when he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling the fingers out to part your folds gently. Your legs shake on either side of his head as he studies your pussy even more, moaning as he does. “Toru, um what are you doing?”

“Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. I can’t just have a treat like this and not eat it, don’t you know I have a sweet tooth?”

“Are you sure, I didn’t expect-”

“Oh this is my favorite. You’ll love it.” Satoru swipes his tongue up your slit then, and you’re moaning so loud it’s embarrassing, and he exhales, tickling you so good, his cool breath blowing on your overheated cunt. “Yummy.”

“Toru, fuck…”

“What a bad mouth, young lady.” He glares, and you laugh, breathless. “And you’re laughing, ah-ah.” He smacks your pussy, shocking you, but you like it, as you’re gushing more arousal out of your little hole. “Freaky little virgin.”

“Toru!”

“Stop talking back missy.” He smacks it again, and grins at your reaction. “Let me enjoy my treat, hmm?” You just nod, and he dives down now, sliding his tongue in and out of you in the most delicious tongue fuck. You’re already pulsing around him as he drinks you up, exploring you with his tongue, lips, teeth.

Your back arches, as he’s fucking you with it over and over, his teeth hitting your clit when he swipes up, finally swirling your clit in circles with the tip of his stupidly talented tongue. You can’t stand how good it feels, the pressure in your tummy, then you realize you’re going to cum, and cum so hard, you feel everything on fire, every nerve ending lit up.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You pant out the words, and Satoru’s moaning against you, leaning up, half his face covered with you.

“Cum all over my face, let me drink you pretty.” He’s not goofy, silly Satoru, he’s some damn sex demon now, as he flicks his tongue once more, and you’re shattering for him, pulling him against you as you cum.

Satoru rides it out with you, continuing to flick his tongue so fast, sipping up the wetness out of your soppy cunt. You feel so good you’re blinded, eyes blinking rapidly to try to focus, to try to cling to this earth. He’s more serious now as he exhales, fingering you again, sliding two in with ease at how wet you are, hovering over you.

“Such a good girl, came that much for me? Wanna taste it?” He asks, and you nod nervously, then he’s kissing you, letting you taste your sweet arousal. Your hands slide down his hard abdomen, over the ripples of muscles and sinew, until you find his boxers, tugging. “Oh fuck, wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wasn’t sure your first time.” His care melts you, melts any worries you have away, but when he takes off his boxers and you see him, you panic.

“Oh that will never fit!” You watch him chuckle then, his soft hair falling over a brow as you touch it, your tiny hand not covering hardly any of it.

“It will fit, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, brows together, stroking him, watching his eyes flutter shut, biting his lip.

“I haven’t been with a virgin. Um, I hear it hurts a bit, but you’re so wet and warmed up, I hope it won’t for long. I’ll go easy on you, the first time.”

“The first time!?”

“Then we’ll get freaky.” You giggle again, stroking him up and down.

“Can I suck you too?”

“You want to?” You nod and he exhales, getting on his knees then, gently positioning you on all fours. “Fuck it’s like my four pm nap.”

“Huh?”

“I nap after work, and you are always in some position. Some new one. Legs spread, ass in the air.” He wraps your hair up, pulling it gently into a ponytail, his pretty cock so thick and intimidating, twitching as you flick your tongue on the pink tip. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

“What do you like?” You lap at the pearly liquid weeping from his tip, tonguing it and tasting it, sweet and a little salty, before sucking a couple inches in your mouth, earning his little whimper, so sexy it makes you impossibly wetter.

“Anything you wanna do, fuck. At your mercy here, the tip is the most sensitive. Can you take more?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he presses in further, and you’re moaning around him, nodding. “Good girl.”

“Mmm.” You’re sucking more of him then, as you look up, seeing his perfect form, that happy trail of white hair under that flat belly button, his hard body tensing as you stroke him where your mouth can’t reach.

“Okay, too much, I want to last for you. Mmm.” He pulls you off gently now, pushing you back to lay down, settling between your thighs, fingering you with his two fingers again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I want this, I really do. I have for so- ah- long. Toru! Close!” He’s sliding his fingers out then, leaving you whining, as he now presses his thick tip in your entrance, and your eyes lock as you gasp.

“Want to feel you cumming around me, love.” Love that little pet name is destroying you. “Relax, please, don’t tense, just trust me. I got you.”

“I trust you, Satoru.” He exhales then, head resting on yours, then presses in, and you whine out at the pain of the first stretch, and he pauses, groaning.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight. Are you okay, pretty?” You nod a bit, as he eases back, and you’re gripping his back so tightly your nails are leaving crescent marks. “Oh fuck…”

Satoru moans as he presses further in, and you’re full, too full, it’s like nothing you’ve known. He sinks in so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him everywhere, burning the skin as it stretches to accommodate. Satoru studies you carefully, his brow scrunched up, cupping your face with one hand.

“Baby, you all right? Gotta tell me.”

“I’m so full. It’s just… a lot.” He nods, kissing you again, rocking his hips, and then his tip drags on that spot he’d just fingered, and it feels so good, you’re clinging to him. “There, there!”

“Here?” He does it again, and your eyes roll back, feeling him roll those hips, you’re wetter and wetter with every shallow thrust, and he’s whimpering again, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips parted. “Cum on me, please?”

You need no further urging, you’re soaking Satoru’s cock as you cum, and his lips drink your moans, his hands now holding your thighs, sliding them up further, starting to fuck into you now. You’re falling apart under him, moans ridiculously loud, pleasure is coursing through your body while he fucks you into another orgasm.

“Toru, Toru! Mmm!” Satoru’s pretty eyes look into your own.

“Can I go harder, love?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughs just a bit. “You can take it, huh?”

“I can, fuck I can.” He fucks you harder then, pressing your thighs up, and you’re struggling to take more and more of him, as he’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix.

“Feel me here?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and he has a wicked grin as he slides in slow, and you feel him there, making you squeak. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, still, while mmm… fucking?”

“Cute anytime. Cutie.” He smacks little kisses on your cheeks, somehow he’s dirty and sexy one moment, then sweet and adorable the next. “Mwah!”

“Satoru!” You giggle when he leaves a loud kiss on your lips, but then he presses in so deep and grinds, and you lose all sense. Everything is fading, floating.

“Call me Toru when you cum.”

“Toru!” You cum all over his cock, arousal dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass, and he sucks in a breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“Trying to milk me, she’s greedy already.” You have no clue what he means, all you know is it feels even better, as he’s thickening inside you. “Question.” He huffs out then, panting over you, his chiseled body dripping in sweat.

“G-go ahead.”

“On birth control or I gotta get plan B?” You nervously bury your face into his throat, and he’s laughing softly, stroking your hair as his strokes slow. “Baby gotta let me know, I’m not gonna pull out, wanna fill you up.”

“I’m on the pill. And t-take it on time.” He sighs, tilting your chin up then, smirking deviously, eyes bright fucking blue and insane.

“I’d cum in you anyway, you’d be cute pregnant.”

“What now!?” He’s slammed his lips on yours again, pressing your thighs up, and then he’s fucking harder, sounds of your skin smacking mixing with your wetness, as he fucks you so hard your tits are bouncing, the headboard is smacking. “Taking it easy, huh!?”

“This is easy, love. Oh fuck… gonna cum…” He moans then, his hands cupping your face, and you feel him throbbing inside you, thickening, you are filled with hot ropes of cum, coating your walls, and you cum just from that, earning his groan. “Oh you’re such a good girl.”

He’s gently pumping, gasping as he pumps even more cum, and your muscles are already pushing it out. He sighs then, smacking kisses on you over and over, every inch of your face, making you so blissful, as he’s fucked any thoughts out of your head, you feel like you’re floating, clinging to him, nails digging in.

“This better not be just once.” He says with a glare, and you grin, shaking your head and brushing his hair back.

“Absolutely not just once. Oh! Ouch.” You hiss a bit as he eases out, and you go to look down, but he tilts your chin up, shaking his head.

“Don’t look, you’re always scared of blood. Gonna faint.”

“It’s that much!?”

“No, but you’re sensitive about that. I’ll be right back.” Satoru hops up and you look at the ceiling, you hear a shower running, see the steam rolling into his room, and then he’s back and cleaning you up, before picking you up in his arms. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, I would love that, Toru. Sounds so good.” He has you under the scalding hot water then, sudsing you up with bubbles everywhere, forming little puffy clouds on your breasts then rinsing them, laughing like he’s having a blast. You shake your head as you watch him.

“I used to jerk off when you’d take showers here.”

“You what now!?”

He just grins, pushing the shower head even lower. “Picturing you, did you ever… you know…”

“Satoru!”

“Did you!?” You look at his shower head nervously, then him, and he’s grinning even wider now. “Oh, you’re a bad girl.”

“Oh stop it, silly. Maybe once or twice. You have great water pressure. Ah, Toru!” Satoru is now on his knees in the shower, looking up at you and rushing that hot shower water against your clit. You gasp at it, as he wraps an arm around your hip to steady you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist