#like genuinely why are you surprised he has always been like this!!! sex positivity is part of him!!! and thats a good thing!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slytherinslut0 · 14 days ago

Text

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.

warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.

Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.

Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.

Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.

And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.

It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.

Until—

"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."

That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.

It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.

"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.

It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.

"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."

The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.

"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."

"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"

He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.

"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."

"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."

You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.

"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"

He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.

"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"

You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.

The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.

Something more physical.

"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"

"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."

You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.

"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."

His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.

"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."

It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.

Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.

"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."

Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.

"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"

"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."

"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."

"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.

"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."

He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.

"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."

There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—

"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.

A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.

"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"

He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.

"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"

The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"

"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."

You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.

"A disconnect?"

"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"

"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.

"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."

You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.

You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.

"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.

You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.

"What?"

He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.

"Don't ask questions. Just come here."

It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.

It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.

Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.

You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.

"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."

You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—

"I'm not—"

You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—

"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."

You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—

"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."

You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—

Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.

"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."

Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—

"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"

Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—

"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."

You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.

You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.

You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.

You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.

He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—

"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"

You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.

"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."

He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.

"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."

You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.

"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."

"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."

You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.

"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."

He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.

"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."

He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—

"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"

It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—

"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“

"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."

There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.

It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."

You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.

And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.

He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.

"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"

You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.

"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."

1K notes · View notes

angelbarelywrites · 10 months ago

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim..

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), Black Christmas, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; very suggestive content

♡ note; i wasn’t sure how to word the title/concept of this one?? but essentially you’re almost a victim, but you’re a little to okay with it/something they do and it throws them off?? idk just read ‘em

also only 3 little meow meows in this one, i wrote most of this on break at work uwu

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> he’s been stalking you for months

> in his mind you’re the perfect victim

> clueless to his presence, adorable and vulnerable

> he’s drawing it out as long as he can

> but he’s practically twitching the night you come out onto your porch in your tight pajama shorts, relaxing with some tea

> he’s got you pinned to the wall before you can even scream

> he wants to savor this, so he keeps his knife tucked away and has a massive hand around your throat

> he doesn’t miss your breath catching

> and he takes a moment to watch your chest heaving, your cheeks all flushed

> but he’s not that easily impressed. could be the lighting. maybe you’re quick to panic.

> “…you’ve been watching me.”

> you knew?

> you knew, and you still played his game

> interesting. very interesting.

Thomas Hewitt

> Tommy boy is already giving you special treatment

> something is different about you

> he’s not sure what, you’re pretty, but he kills plenty of pretty people

> maybe something about the way you look up at him through your lashes?

> and you’re terrified now, but you weren’t scared of the initial sight of him..

> he doesn’t put you on a meat hook, instead rigging you somewhat kindly, your hands chained above your head but your bound feet on the ground

> whatever he decides on, he knows that you’re special. you deserve to be honored.

> he takes extra care in examining you, feeling you shiver as he grazes your exposed stomach - a side affect of your position, but a welcome sight

> he roughly grabs your face and pushes it left and right, pausing to rub your cheek with his thumb

> you would be a pretty face to wear

> he shoves two fingers into your mouth as he’s mentally measuring

> and he practically startles at the noise you make

> he’s never heard a sound like come from a victim- especially not his victims

> when he pushes a bit and you whimper around his fingers it confirms his suspicions. you’d given a choked moan at the initial intrusion

> he stares down at you, breathing heavily through his mask

> oh you were very special

Billy Lenz

> you were renting a spare room in the sorority house

> while you were good friends with the girls, you valued your alone time

> you quickly became Billy’s favorite to watch, mostly because you were always home

> when he calls he always tries to time it so you pick up

> but usually the girls downstairs still answer- you’re never expecting calls so why bother?

> this evening however, he’s lucky- there’s an on campus event and you’re home completely alone

> you answer on the second ring and he’s delighted, immediately babbling profanities and filthy threats

> “gonna fuck that pretty piggy c—“

> to his surprise you giggle at him

> not a nervous sound, but genuine giggling

> before he can snap, or really even process you laughing at him, you stop him

> “yknow if you want phone sex, you can just ask nicely mister”

> he hangs up in a panic

> that was certainly the last thing he expected

> but now he’s beyond fixated on you

> he barely sleeps just to peep through your wall

> and it’s just about time he paid you a real visit

#thomas hewitt #slashers #dead by daylight #thomas hewitt x reader #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers headcanons #tcm 2006 #tcm #black christmas #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz #micheal myers x reader #micheal myers #halloween #g/n reader #gender neutral reader #slashers x reader

1K notes · View notes

smileyerim · 2 years ago

Text

what’s mine is yours

if mark isn’t going to make a move on you himself, his friends will surely find a way to make one on his behalf. the opportunity arises after an evening of drinking at mark’s apartment that lands you tangled in mark’s sheets wondering if he feels the same chemistry that you do.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive !!MDNI!!

length: 4.9k

warnings: adults drinking alcohol and getting drunk, dialogue about sex, both reader and mark are drunk the entire time, mark is a pussy!

net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels

Drinking with the boys always led you into sketchy situations. There was the one time Haechan insisted on breaking into a waterpark to ‘visit the mermaids’. Or the time that Renjun ordered a cab for all of you to go over to his ex-girlfriends house to win her back. Jaemin once threw up in the kitchen sink and didn’t tell anyone until morning.

So, yeah, drinking with the boys always led you down odd roads and tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Okay!” You exclaim drunkenly, head previously falling forward as you dozed in your spot.

“Which one of you gentlemen are going to drive me home?” Your eyes lazily trail across the room at the boys all scattered about in various positions.

“Uh, I’m not good to drive,” Mark says and shoves his thumb into Jeno’s shoulder to ask “you good to drive?” Which earns him a shake of his head.

The rest of the group reacts now, all to let you know that none of them were sober enough to be behind the wheel.

“Okay…” you drag out the word and pull out your phone to open the rideshare app and struggle to type in your apartment’s address.

“Uber is $65.” You say bluntly, again scanning your eyes around the room expectedly. When you don’t get a response, you speak up again.

“This is the part where you say ‘Oh, here Y/N, we’ve got it.’” You tease and Haechan just rolls his eyes and groans.

“Just stay over. It’s fine, you can take the couch.”

“I call dibs on the couch.” Chenle’s voice is muffled from where his nose is nuzzled in the cushions. You’re genuinely surprised that he’s still breathing. You’re not too sure how, though, he’s buried pretty deep. He’s clearly not about to move any time soon.

“Fine, you can sleep with Mark.” Haechan says, hand signaling to the boy who was too distracted by his phone to keep up with the conversation until his name was spoken.

“Wait, dude, what?” Mark exclaims, his wide and glossy eyes switching between you and Haechan quickly. His drunk brain can barely keep up.

You hear a snicker from over your shoulder, “That’s a good idea, Y/N, why don’t you sleep with Mark?” Jaemin’s hand sits lazily on your shoulder.

You frown, a little too drunk to pick up the pieces and put them together.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jeno says, his own giggle escaping his lips. The two aforementioned boys had smoked earlier, leading to a fit of giggles shared between the two.

“Why is this a better idea than walking her home?” Mark panics, watching you slowly absorb all that’s going on around you. It doesn’t seem like you’ve picked up on how obvious the boys are being and he’s thankful for that.

“It’s cold out and we’re all tired. Just take one for the team and let her sleep in your bed.” Haechan argues. He’s getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Mark has been complaining for weeks about his crush on you, and the moment that Haechan finally does something about it, Mark protests?

“Where will I sleep?” Mark stupidly asks and Haechan’s head falls back onto the couch when he rolls his eyes.

“With her, Mark.” He says with a frustrated tone, his eyes shut and squeezed.

Before Mark can object again, you finally put the pieces together and move to stand, nearly falling into Jaemin’s lap behind you in the process.

“Come on, Mark.” You say, your hand is out in offering for Mark to grab. His slow brain goes a bit numb, too focused on the gold ring on your middle finger. He hadn’t noticed you wear it before.

When he doesn’t move fast enough, Haechan groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing Mark’s arm by the wrist and placing his hand on yours.

“I have to do fucking everything around here, don’t I?” Haechan says to the group, excluding you two who have already begun your drunken trek to Mark’s bedroom.

The vibe is much different when you’re in his room behind a closed door. He keeps his room tidy usually, but his unmade bed and loose bath towel on the floor suggest he wasn’t anticipating company. You prefer it this way, it makes you feel less like a guest. Especially when you’re about to use his bedroom as a hotel, nonetheless.

It also helps when his ruffled sheets make his bed look all the more inviting and comfortable. You flop your belly down, snuggling into his pillow. It smells faintly of tea tree shampoo and musk. You wonder when the last time he washed his sheets was, but you aren’t sure you want to know the answer. It smells like it’s been quite a while but you’re too drunk to care.

“You want some clothes?” He says from his standing position. He wasn’t expecting to see you so… comfortable. You look as if you’re at home in his bed.

He can’t believe it. You’re here in his bed. Sure, you’ve been in his room a million times, you’ve sat on his bed a million times, you’ve even cuddled with Mark on his bed a million times. But this time is different. You’re sleeping here, you’re going to wake up here, you’re going to be lying side by side with Mark for a minimum of 8 hours and he’s not sure he’ll be able to hold it together that long.

“No,” you say looking down at your athletic shorts and crop top. You weren’t wearing a bra, anyways. “A toothbrush would be nice, though.”

He scurries off to the adjoined bathroom and rifles through his drawers quickly, praying that he’d have at least one clean spare toothbrush.

“Unless, of course, all your hoes have used all of them.” You tease. You aren’t quite sure where that comment came from or why you felt compelled to say it but it has an effect on Mark as he stills for a moment before continuing his search. He finds one and walks back over to where you’re still lying on the bed.

“My hoes don’t ask for toothbrushes.” He says in half-honesty. It’s true, no girls have ever asked him for a spare toothbrush. Sure, that’s due to the fact that he’s never had a girl stay over before, but it’s still the truth nonetheless.

“Ew. Good to know I don’t have much competition then. At least I have basic hygiene.” You say, already loading up the toothbrush with his toothpaste.

His brain goes haywire at the comment. Does what you said mean what he thinks it means? Why are you including yourself on the list of Mark’s “hoes”? Do you want to be one? His only one?

Once you’re done, Mark has already changed into his outfit for bed. He’s hesitant on whether or not to wear a shirt. For your comfortability he probably should, but you’ve never been bothered by his bare chest before in all the times you’ve been over. What would make this time any different?

He decides against it as he gets himself ready for bed, trading spots in the bathroom when you go back to bed. His heart is beating out of his chest, which is saying a lot for how much the alcohol still present in his system has relaxed him.

He’s equally thankful for and also angry at Haechan for the stunt he pulled to get you into his room. He’s wanted this for a long time, thats no surprise, but is this how he wanted it? He wants you to know that you’re special to him, is a drunken night sleeping in the same bed enough to tell you that? His head is spinning and it comes to a halt when he sees you lying in his bed on your phone waiting for him to come to bed.

You look natural there, like you’ve always belonged.

“I’ll be right back.” He panics and runs out of the room before you can acknowledge him.

He sulks out into the living room once his door is shut behind him where all the boys still remain. Only Haechan and Jeno are still awake, playing some video game on the TV.

He plops down on Haechan’s left, careful not to sit on Chenle’s knee which Haechan is resting his back against.

“How’s it going in there?” Jeno asks and Mark groans in response, pouring himself his final shot and downing it quickly. The burning sensation in his esophagus is a welcomed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in his head.

“I don’t know what you want, Mark, honestly.” Haechan says, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

“I know, I know. I just want her to know that she’s special to me and not just another girl.” Mark groans, playing with the idea of pouring himself a second nightcap shot.

“Did you tell her that?” Haechan says like it’s obvious.

“She’s drunk, Hyuck.” Mark counters, deciding finally to pour himself another shot of the room temperature liquor. Mark is drunk too, so he’s not too sure why that factor matters right now.

“Did you try telling her?” Haechan repeats himself, earning a shoulder check from Jeno.

“What he’s trying to say is that it’s in your hands at this point. You know what you want and you know how to do it. You just need to grow the balls and get it done.” Jeno says and Haechan leans his shoulder on Jeno’s shoulder to signify a quick hug in thanks.

Mark doesn’t move up from his position in an act of procrastination, and Chenle, who Mark previously thought was sleeping, kicks Mark swiftly in the lower back to force him to his feet.

“Go before she falls asleep and you lose your shot again.” Chenle says, head still buried deep in the cushions.

“How the fuck are you breathing, dude?” Mark asks dumbfounded.

“He has his ways.” Haechan responds, an arm wrapping around Mark’s hips to shove him out of the way of the TV screen.

Clearly, Mark is no longer welcomed out in the living room with his friends, so he moves back to his room with you, quietly opening the door in case you had fallen asleep.

You haven’t, of course. You’re far too concerned about Mark to relax long enough to fall asleep.

“If you want me to go home I can just get the Uber it’s fine.” You say the moment Mark walks through the door.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. He can’t even have one second to think.

“No, you can stay.” He says, heading back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again after the two shots he took.

“You just seem a little off, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s no big deal, really.” You say, already moving to stand up out of his bed, moving at a much slower pace than normal due to the alcohol still in your system.

“No, please, stay.” He says, walking over to your spot, essentially blocking you from standing.

Your face still doesn’t seem convinced so he shares the truth in the best way he knows how, “I want you to stay.”

You still don’t seem fully convinced, but you lie back down anyways and wait for Mark to join you. He’s stalling at this point, moving around the room and unplugging every socket he can see.

“Big fire hazard guy?” You tease from your position in bed, his pillow parallel to your chest where your head lies. There’s something about the hopeful anticipation in your eyes that makes Mark’s head spin.

Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.

He laughs dryly, finally laying down next to you. His head is flat against the mattress, blocking your view of his face from your position atop the pillow beneath you.

“Oh, here, you want it?” You say, offering him the pillow. Mark chastises himself internally for only owning one pillow.

“Nah, you take it, you need one too.” Mark waves you off and adjusts to bend his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm.

You think for a moment before replying, “Well… you’re here aren’t you?”

“Wh-“ Mark’s question is cut short by you sitting up, placing the pillow beneath his head, and then laying your own head on his chest.

He hopes you can’t hear his heartbeat when you ask, “Is this ok?”

He, very boldly in his opinion, responds by wrapping his arms around your body. One over your shoulders and one around your waist. Thank you, alcohol!

“Just peachy.” He says, voice cracking.

His limbs are still stiff around you, but you don’t mention it as you sit up one final time to flip the light switch by the door.

You feel him jolt when you lie your head on his chest again. You feel like rolling your eyes at his dramatics.

“Seriously, Mark, I can go home.” You say, gauging his level of discomfort by the stiffness of his limbs and the sound of his breath that he’s clearly attempting to get under control.

“Nope.” Is all he says as he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you in. A beat passes as you feel his muscles relax beneath your head.

“You’re confusing, Mark Lee.” Is your message of acceptance as your fingers find his collarbone, tracing circles around it and scratching into the caverns gently.

He scoffs at your words, “I’m confusing?”

“Well, you say you want me here but you’re clearly uncomfortable.” You retort. He just wishes you would let the conversation settle. He’s trying his hardest.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” It’s a half truth and he knows it, but he’ll say anything to get you to shut up.

“When’s the last time you had a girl in your bed?” You ask and thankfully you can’t see him roll his eyes in the darkness.

“A while.” He swallows. He can tell where this is going and he doesn’t like it.

“You could’ve just said that!” You say with a soft, almost condescending, tone as you coo, digging your head further into his chest.

“It’s not that. You think you have me all figured out but you don’t, so just drop it please? Let’s go to sleep.” Mark pulls you even closer at that and it’s your turn to stiffen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his pec and he sighs, the hand around your waist holding you tighter.

“It’s fine, just settle down.” He says and you try your best, but your mind is now running a mile a minute.

What the hell did that mean? If you aren’t making him uncomfortable, and if it isn’t that he’s just out of practice, then what is it? Why is your best friend acting so weird?

Your mind can’t help itself but say, “Are you drunk?”

“Very. You?” He says honestly. You smile against his bare chest.

“Very.” You giggle and he does too, his hand traveling down your body to grab at the back of your knee to hoist your leg to rest over his. The ice has been clearly broken as he relaxes into the new position.

You nuzzle in closer to his chest, your hands continuing to explore the dips and curves of his shoulder.

“Did you drink more when you went out there?” You ask, not really wanting to go to bed just yet. You have an odd feeling that your night isn’t over.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound. He can’t tell if you’re prying to try and collect information or if your drunk brain is truly just curious, so he keeps his answers brief.

You giggle out your question, “Why?”

“You don’t usually have this many questions.” He deflects, but you catch him.

“You don’t usually avoid answering.” You retort and he sighs, chest rising and falling slowly below your head. It’s a nice feeling, you think.

You’re anticipating an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. Frowning, you move your head so that your chin rests on his chest, your eyes level with his cheek from where he’s lying back. He looks down at you in the dark of the room to notice your impatient stare.

“Just needed a little extra liquid courage, that’s it.” He shrugs and you frown deeper. That answer just gave you more questions than answers.

“But-“ he cuts you off.

“Just let it go, please.” He begs, his voice genuinely sounding desperate. Usually you have a free pass to tease Mark, but something is different about him tonight so you don’t pester him any further. You lie your head back down over his chest and continue to stroke his shoulder lazily. You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with each other here, which pleases you.

He appreciates the gesture, clearly, as the hand that was previously around your waist travels back down to your leg to grab a large handful softly, his thumb stroking over the side of your thigh near your knee gently.

It’s a nice moment, you think, and before your brain can tell you otherwise, your lips are puckering to leave a gentle kiss to his bare skin beneath your head. His breath hitches softly at that, so you move your head gently away from the spot to rest your forehead against his chin.

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure why you did it. You and Mark have cuddled a million times before, but you’ve never kissed him. You’ve never even given him a cheek kiss as a greeting. Your lips have never touched Mark Lee, but for some reason tonight you felt compelled to. It was innocent and short enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen at all.

You can feel Mark slowly turning his head, your heart beating at a mile a minute at the sheer unknown of how he will react.

Just as your mind begins to conjure up rejection scenarios, you feel something.

His lips make contact with your forehead, his warm breath fanning over the top of your hair as he stays in his position, gentle lips kissing your forehead. You hold back a gasp, and your heart picks up pace. He still hasn’t moved, which you’re thankful for, as you absorb the feeling and attempt to process your emotions quickly.

That was a move.

Mark is making moves on you. Do you want him to? You can’t lie and say you haven’t thought about him romantically before. He’s your best friend, he’s seen your lowest and your highest and he’s stuck around through it all. He’s also undoubtedly attractive and your type. But you’ve never imagined him in this context.

But you wouldn’t want to take advantage of him. This is Mark you’re talking about here. There is no “casual fun” with him. Whatever is happening is already changing the course of your friendship, do you want to keep it going and take it further?

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to decide before his hand finds your chin, pulling up to signal that he wants you to look at him. You comply, of course, with probably too much ease.

His eyes dart between your two as he tries to read you. He wants this. He knows he wants this. What he doesn’t know, though, is whether or not you want this too.

“Are you too drunk to know what you’re doing?” He whispers and you can feel the air from his words hit your lips and it only makes you want him more.

“No.” You whisper back meekly, your eyes trained to his lips. He’s never looked so kissable. In fact, you’ve never even considered the idea of kissing Mark. Now that you’re here, though, you can’t believe it’s not crossed your mind before. You want him so bad that it feels like you’ve wanted him forever.

Your answer was clearly all he needed to brush his lips over yours. It feels like the wind is knocked out of you as you lie there, not even pursing your lips, just allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being so close with you.

The moment is beautifully intimate, you won’t lie, but you’re feeling a bit impatient and if Mark spends any more time cherishing the moment rather than seizing it you may combust. So you take the next step and officially slot your lips over his, your hand coming up to grab at his jaw to keep him steady on you. He reacts without hesitation, kissing you back with as much force as you’re giving him.

The kiss is remarkable in all the ways that it truly isn’t. There’s no sparks or fireworks, and it takes you a while to get into a rhythm. Your teeth knock his a few times and you both miss the opportunities to insert your tongues into each others mouths. It’s almost laughable how bad the kiss is from a black and white perspective, but you’re satisfied. Because, above all else, the kiss is natural and it feels right.

Once you’ve found your rhythm though, you’re fully emerged in the feeling. He’s a slower kisser than you thought he would be, clearly still attempting to savor the moment with everything in him, and you let him.

It’s nice, you think, being here like this. Every first kiss you’ve had has spurred an emotional rollercoaster inside of you. You’re typically too preoccupied with doing the right thing, looking hot enough, memorizing the other person’s likes and dislikes, and thinking about the future when you kiss someone. Kissing Mark is different. You aren’t full of worries, you’re simply enjoying it. A part of you tries to pin it on the comfortability that comes with being as close friends as you are, but another part of you that’s been hiding for a long time tells you otherwise.

Your adrenaline spikes at the thought, and it spurs you to make the next move to straddle across his waist. He reacts instantly, his hands finding your hips as he kisses you harder.

You like Mark, you realize. Perhaps your heart is a little behind your head as you’re already kissing him, but the realization sparks something in you nonetheless.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he admits when his lips leave yours to trail down your neck. You aren’t sure if Mark is intending to bring the heat up, but it’s working when he finds that one spot near your carotid.

You hum, hand threading in his hair to keep him close. You love this. You love this moment. You never want it to end.

As if he hates you, Mark’s mouth leaves your neck to look at you to do precisely that.

“Are we doing this?” He says and you’re startled by his honesty and boldness. Is this the same Mark who was too scared to even sleep in the same bed as you?

“Define this.” You ask. It’s a valid question, he has to say, but he’s not bold enough to say it by name. Sure, he can grow a pair when he absolutely needs to, but his natural instinct is to quietly observe the other person, not be observed himself.

He doesn’t respond with words, but with an action much more bold than he realizes when his hands find your hips again and move you down to rest over his crotch. He’s not hard yet, but you still get the gist of what he’s trying to say. A gasp escapes you, earning a coy smile from the man below you.

“I take that as a yes?” He teases and you aren’t given the opportunity to respond before he sits up fully, meeting you in your sitting position to wrap both his arms around you tightly as he kisses you again.

Now the kiss is hot. His hands are busy all over your body, lighting fire in its path. You moan encouragingly into his mouth when his hands graze the underside of your breast. He catches the message quickly and moves his hand higher to officially grab you, both of you moaning at the contact. Your mouths connect sloppily, and you begin to feel a poke from underneath you.

It takes all the self control in your body to slow things down, but you owe it to Mark to talk about this.

You say his name into his mouth quietly, which he interprets as a moan, and responds with his own groan right back.

“Mark,” you say a little more firmly this time, your hands finding his shoulders to signal that you have something to say.

“Are you sure?” You ask and his previously anxious eyes soften.

“Are you?” He retorts and you roll your eyes deliberately at him.

“I asked you first, idiot.” You say and he smiles, bringing you in for a hug, his nose finding the crevice between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him relax below your fingers when you hug him back, your hands threading into his hair. The moment from before is long gone, but you prefer this.

You smile from your position on his lap. This is easy, you think. Much easier than it ever has been. It almost scares you how natural this feels with him, but you don’t allow your brain to indulge in the anxiety of it all. You’ll happily wait as long as Mark needs to give you an answer if he’s holding you like he is now.

“I’m sure that I want you, if that’s what you’re asking.” He says and it makes you smile again. He’s trying to get you to say it first. Your best friend has never been very sly, although he likes to think of himself that way.

“That is what I asked, but that’s not what I meant.” You say, throwing the ball back into his court.

All this back and forth is giving you a headache. Under any other circumstance you’d have been fed up with all the pussyfooting and made an actual move, but you want to give Mark the chance to say what he needs to say. You have a feeling that he needs the floor more than you do.

“I want to fuck you, but I don’t think it would mean the same thing to you as it does to me.” He says finally and you melt at his indirect confession, holding him tighter and slightly swaying your bodies side to side.

“Then ask.” You say simply, still not taking the power he clearly wants you to. He’s used to you being the bolder one, he’s never had to fight with you to get you to offer your mind.

“You’re making this really difficult for me, aren’t you?” He jokes and you let out a genuine laugh, kissing the crown of his head once you’re done.

“You’d regret letting me take the lead.” You read him honestly and he scans his brain for a conflict, but you’re right. He would regret it.

“You know me so well.” He says, resigned acceptance on his voice as his hand rubs wide circles into your back.

“I know, that’s why you like me so much.” You snark and Mark leans back to look you in the face with a shocked expression of offense.

“You said you’d let me take the lead!” He whines and you giggle, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“You’re taking too long.” You attempt to justify yourself.

“I wanted to tell you.” He pouts and you move to grab the other side of his face with your other hand.

“You still can.” You gently inform him, quieting down and looking deep into his eyes.

You had anticipated a confession right then and there, but he continues to stare back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you roll your eyes once more in faux annoyance, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Now, Mark.” You taunt with a giggle and he breaks out into nervous laughter, leaning away from your hands and you let him go hesitantly, resting your hands back on his bare shoulders.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes to the bedpost as he gathers his thoughts. It’s cute, you think, how flustered he is. All of this drama for you? Mark is this nervous to confess to you? You’re not a self conscious girl by any means, but you feel a little out of bounds by the idea that Mark Lee is flustered over you.

He’s amazing. Why doesn’t he think that you would notice that about him? Why does he look like he’s preparing himself for rejection right now? Does he really think of you that highly? Or worse, does he think of himself that low?

He clears his throat once more, saying your name quietly and grabbing your hands in his. You feel as if a bit more distance has been put between you now as you’re no longer holding him, but you allow him to guide.

“I’ve been into you for a while,” He says, taking in a sharp breath after the phrase is out. Although you were expecting to hear it, actually being in the moment feels more intense than you thought it would be. Your toes curl in anxiety as you attempt to keep your cool.

“and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I kissed you— that I genuinely blame on the alcohol—but this is all me.” He says with a sigh at the end. If the confession had been pretty, it wouldn’t have been Mark’s. But you love it all the same.

A smile slowly creeps over your face as you look at him through your eyelashes. You don’t want your reaction to influence him, you want him to fully own this moment.

“Say something please.” He says with a cute impatient lilt to his voice that makes you laugh.

Your poker face, if you even had one in the first place, slips when you open your mouth to respond.

“Mark, I’ve been into you for… well…. not that long,” you say and he laughs in response, hopeful eyes and expectant smile on his face.

“but this is all me, too. I swear if I had known before I would’ve done something before.” You draw an x with your finger over your heart and Mark grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your fingertip. Your heart melts as he grabs your hand with his two and draw them down to his chest.

“I like that you let me.” Mark says, leaning in as if he was about to kiss you. You smile, tilting your chin to meet him.

“Thank you.” He whispers before meeting your lips together in a sweet kiss.

i wrote this all in one day and only proofread it twice so if it sucks…. uh….. yeah! if you did enjoy my little brain dump of a story, please reblog and send feedback! your engagement means waaayyy more to me than you realize.

#kflixnet #k-labels #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagine #mark lee smut #mark drabble #mark fluff #mark smut #nct dream #nct imagine #nct fluff

3K notes · View notes

buuniebaby · 6 months ago

Note

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

#hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah smut #hamzahsmut

431 notes · View notes

r4ikkonen · 2 years ago

Note

hi! I can see you've written some nsfw a-z, would you like to make one for charles as well? :)

NSFW ALPHABET | CHARLES LECLERC

A/N heyyy!Tysm for requesting!Sorry it took me so long to finally write this I got really unmotivated but anyway enjoy reading this <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Charles is considered to be very romantic and he genuinely cares about you.He cares when you trip over a small rock.That makes him an expert in aftercare.After sex he would always check up on you and see if you’re okay.He always makes sure he spoons you behind and gives you cuddles afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Charles’ favorite body part are his hands, because he gets to touch you,pleasure you and hug you with them and of course he drives with them.However when it comes to you he loves your eyes.He can get so lost in them sometimes and that’s why they amaze him the most.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Charles doesn’t mind making mess he just wants to show you how good at sex he is.He always makes sure that he gives his best to satisfy you.When it comes to cum he loves cumming in your mouth a lot.It’s his favorite spot and he loves the view of you looking st him with your mouth full of his stuff.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Charles’ dirty secret is that he loves watching you dress or shower.It turns him on like nothing else.Even tho he isn’t participating he would just stare at you for awhile while you’re dressing up.It’s not rare that he creeps up from behind and joins you in the shower too.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Surprisingly he is everything but not experienced enough.He is really trying, he has been with a few girls before and he knows the “basics” but sometimes he thinks that it’s not enough for you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorite position is missionary.He loves locking eye contact with you especially when you’re close to having your orgasm.Your look drives him crazy.You would suggest some other positions which he’s up to doing but Missionary is his favorite.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Charles isn’t so serious during sex.Occasionally you guys throw in some jokes which makes both of you pause for a second.As long as both of you are having fun and that’s what’s most important to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He makes sure he is ready for you.He is trimmed and doesn’t like having a jungle down there so he always makes sure that he looks fine.When it comes to you he prefers when you’re all shaved it’s easier for both of you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You both find intimacy important.And that’s why he always tries to surprise you with small stuff like flowers,breakfast etc.During sex he makes sure he leaves the marks around your neck so you would have a hard time covering them up.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t mind pleasing himself when he’s away from you.But that’s very rare thankfully.He is not ashamed of telling you that he pleased himself with the newest picture from your instagram.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He isn’t very kinky, but one thing that he absolutely loves is when you make a show for him.Sometimes if he had a hard day and he came home to you laying on the bed waiting for him to fuck you.That really relieves his pain.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place to have sex with you is at his apartment in Monaco.He admires doing you in his bedroom with the gorgeous landscape view.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Charles is the one to come up to you and tell you that he is in the mood, even if you’re in the public and when both of you are aware of the risk.If he sees a tiny cloth of your underwear it would automatically turn him on or even when you just look at him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never do anything that would hurt you.He knows that you are sensitive and he never plans on doing anything too harsh.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He absolutely loves when you give him a blowjob few minutes before the race to relieve his nervousness.When he is very desperate he would just come up and eat you out like a dessert.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to keep it slow and take his time.He knows that he doesn’t have to be fast like he is on the track even tho you sometimes suggest that he goes faster which he gladly agrees on doing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Charles would do anything to have sex with you.You always surprise him when you’re out buying clothes with him and you just take him to the closet and let him do you well.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He always makes sure he has any kind of protection with him and you’re on the birth control. He isn’t the one for risking.If both of you are horny at the time he would just eat you out and you would give him a blowjob.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Charles can last really long which confuses you sometimes.He can even stay all night long.It’s amazing how high this man’s sex drive actually is.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You do own some toys and he is very well aware of it but you don’t like bringing them up to bad so often.Sometimes he’d insist on teasing you with them.But that’s rare too.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Charles is a big of a tease.He would tease you till you get mad at him, which just makes him even happier.He would always tell you to be patient and to let him do his job but all that mumbling just annoys you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t so vocal as you.. When he is close or finishing up he would drop a few grunts and moans but during sex never, you on the other hand.. you would scream his name quite a lot and that would just turn him on even more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It was a random monday morning and both of you were in Monaco, he came up behind you while you were brushing your teeth and whispered “how about we try breaking in the sofa on the balcony” You gave him a serious look but he just carried you to the balcony and gave you the sex of your life.Afterwards you were just hoping that noone saw that.Otherwise both of you would be in serious trouble.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Charles is more than an average actually and you always complimented him on it.He is about 7 inches and he’s very proud of it.It’s his secret weapon.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is crazy high.So is yours.You guys seem to always match your energy and have sex all the goddamn time.Probably about few times a week.Depends on how much you guys have to do.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

For Charles it’s different, sometimes he can stay up late and just lay in the bed with his head burried in your chest and sometimes he would fall asleep right after it.That’s how you know that he really reslly enjoyed it.

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 smut #formula one #max verstappen #carlos sainz #f1 #ferrari #red bull f1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader

683 notes · View notes

god-has-entered-my-body · 8 months ago

Text

Please be naked - Matty Healy

A/N: remember when i said i was done? false. @awellposhmagazine you sweetheart ilysm and i hope u dont die. @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff thank u for your slave labour in finding the lyric for this fic xx

wc: 4.5k

content warnings: smut, fluff, use of sex toys (butt plug, strap), pegging, edging, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, degradation but in a sweet way, praise, face-sitting, restraint (she holds him down), teasing, lots and lots of condescension, begging, the return of the little red kia, it gets weirdly poetic towards the end, two kinky knobheads in love

Matty was bold, always has been. Personal boundaries? Shame? Embarrassment? All foreign concepts to him. Evident in the way he spoke before he thought, blurting out strings of words that didn't even make sense most of the time. His behavior was no different, always going for the shock factor whenever interacting with you.

Which is why you were now standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, eyes flicking between him and the small, plastic device in your hand. He had strolled into the room awfully giddy, topless and grinning at you wildly, holding something in the palm of his hand, stopping right in front of you. You raised your eyebrows as he pressed the remote against your chest, it taking you a while to recognise it.

Eyes widening and staring at the object, you looked back at matty who had this mischievous glint in his eye, obviously plotting something. Your words caught in your throat when you tried to speak, struggling to form coherent sentences.

“Is this-?” you try to confirm that he was, in fact, standing in front of you with a buttplug in his arse. Matty wasn't shy, nodding his head slowly as it clicks in your head. It wasn't an impulse purchase, per se, just a surprising one. Matty had gone back to that same sex shop multiple times, even making friends with the owner (because of course he would), purchasing a multitude of odd toys to ‘gift’ to you. But only one of them genuinely took you by surprise: a black buttplug, holographic shimmers decorating the base.

“Yeah.” he breathes, squirming around on his spot, running his fingers through his freshly washed hair. You choose your next words carefully.

“And you-” Maybe he was taking the piss? A cruel joke, but you wouldn't put it past him.

“I’m wearing it.”

“But- we’re about to go-”

You cut yourself off, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. The two of you had made plans with your mates, agreeing to meet up at a sort of bar-restaurant thing that had recently opened a few blocks down from your house. Was this really the best time to pull a stunt like this?

“I know. I want you to do it while we’re out.” he takes a step closer, brushing his fingers against your waist, refusing to touch you properly. Your heart beats erratically in your chest, and you try to breath steadily, composing yourself

“I want you to make me moan in your ear while our friends watch.”

You had always had this sneaking, sneaking suspicion about your boyfriend and his penchant for attention. His loud and pretentious manner drew people in, watching him with a certain look in their eye that he absolutely relished in.

You're snapped back to the present moment as he turns on the heel of his foot, walking towards the door and away from you. He’d closed it on his way in out of pure habit, not realizing the precarious position he had put himself in.

Your body moved a bit quicker than your mind, hand making contact with his lower back as you forced him forward against the closed door. He yelps as his cheek smushes against the cool wood, muffling his gasps as you feel him up from behind.

Your hands run up his bare chest, catching his pierced nipple between two of your fingers, tweaking it harshly.

His breathing speeds up as you grind against his arse, pressing your body flush against him and in turn, pressing him up against the door even harder. His skin is smooth under your touch, goosebumps breaking out wherever your fingertips danced, a small sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips.

“Think you can just order me around? Have me do whatever you want?” your voice is low in his ear, your free hand running over the controls of the remote you were holding. This sudden change of pace makes Matty’s head spin, disorienting him right when he thought he had bested you, leaving you speechless. You tap the device against his hip, feeling him twitch slightly at the sudden pressure.

“I’m going to make you regret it. Wish you never gave this pretty little thing to me.” you coo into his ear, condescension coating your words.

The click is soft, but his reaction is anything but. Matty, always so sure of himself, had bought one specifically designed to directly stimulate the prostate when inserted, the vibrations only amplifying the sensation. His knees weakened under him, the only thing holding his body up being the weight of yours pressing him up against the door.

Turning the toy off, you sigh and let him go, making him fall to the floor at the sudden loss of support. He yelps as his knees hit the hard floorboards, eyes darting up to meet yours while he tries to steady his breathing, willing himself to not get hard.

“I’ll be downstairs.” you say, and he can only nod in response, scrambling to get up and finish getting dressed, the plug shifting inside him with every move he makes, small groans spilling from his parted lips.

It takes longer than usual for Matty to finish up, meeting you at the front door dressed in the same jeans you had left him in, paired with a yellow t-shirt, slightly too small for him. You chuckle at the sight, a small sliver of skin being revealed by the too-short fabric.

The place was a short walk away, maybe ten minutes if you walked fast. It saved Hann the pain of having to drive and pick you up, whining about the cost of gas and how his car wouldn't be able to take much more if he was constantly chauffeuring the two of you around (you find he was overreacting a bit, but it is his car).

The process of putting on your respective shoes is done in silence, the tension thick in the air as you take your keys off the hook, stuffing them into your pocket. Matty was right behind you, fastenting the straps of his boots, the clanging metal impossibly loud in the echo of the foyer.

Sun hits your face the moment you step outside, welcoming the comfortable warmth it brought with it, a soft breeze blowing through your hair. The click of your shoes against the pavement was even, the road fairly empty as you walked, hand in hand, Matty’s fingers tightly clasping yours.

The restaurant/pub was more Ross’ aesthetic, the earthy, wooden exterior not really what you were used to. You could feel Matty speed up as you neared the entrance, excited to finally see his mates again, have a drink and talk shit. Your hand moves away from his, gently settling on his lower back, stopping him in his tracks as he grasps the door handle, about to pull it open.

You bring your lips to his ear, his hair slightly in the way, curls brushing against your face lightly.

“You going to behave?” you whisper, warning him. His smirk tells you all you need to know before he even opens his mouth to speak.

“In your wildest dreams.” he blows you a cheeky kiss and flings the door wide open, cutting off your retort.

Ross and Hann greet him first, lifting their pints in his direction. His laugh as he sees them is infectious, making you crack a fond smile as they all hug, Matty sliding into the booth next to Ross. George gets up from his chair, pulling you in for a tight hug and saying how nice it was to see you and Matty, pushing a french martini in your direction.

“I could kiss you.” you say, bringing the glass up to your lips, taking a grateful sip. George chuckles, his deep voice oddly comforting.

“No need, pretty sure Matty would stab my eyes out.”

“What would I do!?” Matty yells at him, only catching a small part of his sentence, too engrossed in his storytelling to listen to his answer. You wave your hand in dismissal, turning your attention to Matty’s story, a detailed recount of his first kiss.

How he got to that topic within ten minutes of entering the joint was beyond you, but you listened, laughing at the gross descriptions of the girls lips, using way too many adjectives Ross didn't even know existed.

The remote is heavy in your pocket, burning a hole into your skin as an idea pops into your head.

He chats animatedly, his voice loud and booming, so unmistakably him.

“Genuinely tasted like sand, nearly impossible to get any real acti-” you cut him off by clicking the toy on, his eyes immediately widening at the sensation. He chokes a bit, his words coming out weird and in bits before he decides to try and cover it up with a cough. The guys give him a weird look and you play along, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Alright, Matty?” Ross asks, taking a sip of his pint at the sudden, awkward silence. You grin at him, turning the vibrations down a bit so he could speak.

“Everythings good, just got a fucked throat.” he smooth talks his way out of it, glaring at you from across the table as the conversation shifts.

You continue toying with him, playing with the remote mindlessly as the minute tick by, another round of drinks being bought by Hann. Whenever he goes to speak, you make a point to turn the vibrations up, even if only a little bit, just to watch him squirm in his seat, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Mate, you look wrecked. Sure you're okay?” Hann presses a paternal hand to his head, checking his temperature. Matty was flushed a bright shade of pink, a look of pleasure on his face only you could truly recognise, having seen him in this exact position a thousand times. Yearning, begging, willing to do anything just to finally have some relief.

“Y-yeah sorry, I must've caught something.” he forces out, a slight edge to his voice as you eye him, catching a suspicious glance from George next to you.

“Go home then, I'll even drive you back.” he offers, earning a groan from the other two men. Apologizing, you offer to buy everyone a round on you as a peace offering for leaving early. Hann promises to come back after, not letting Matty’s little bout of illness ruin a perfectly good outing. If only they knew.

He’s a bit sick I reckon, nothing a good rest cant fix.” you move to get up, brushing off your jeans as you shuffle out of the booth, watching Matty closely.

“Dickhead.” he mutters as he passes by, being led to the car by Adam. You grin from ear to ear, taking your revenge.

“Watch it, sweetheart.” you click the vibrator on higher, making his knees buckle and he falls into your arms, a look of betrayal, mixed with undeniable pleasure, evident on his face.

“Jesus, Matty, let's get you home.” you mutter, your voice one of faux-concern as you stroke his hair, half carrying him to the car.

The car ride is oddly quiet, Hann making casual conversation as Matty curls up in the backseat, knees to his chest, feigning illness. The radio plays softly in the background, some country stuff that was popular.

“No music commentary today? Pretty sure this is Taylor Swift.” you chuckle at your mates words, watching Matty’s reaction in the rearview mirror.

“She’s fit.” His voice is slightly raspy, teasing as he makes eye contact through the reflection, almost as if challenging you. You roll your eyes, a prick of jealousy bubbling up inside of you.

“Not as fit as my girl though.” he adds, making Hann groan in disgust.

“I don't need to bear witness to your weird flirting. It's bad enough having to watch you drunk snog every week.”

Even though you tried to keep your affection to a minimum around the guys, with alcohol being thrown into the mix it was impossible to keep your hand off each other. The brick wall of the alleyway behind the bar had seen a lot of makeout sessions, and more often than not, Hann or George would walk out for a smoke right when Matty was shoving his tongue down your throat.

“Why do you watch us? Might be a sign, mate.” Matty mumbles, kicking the back of the driver's seat aggressively, making it shake.

“I hope you choke.”

“So does she.” he sniggers, wiggling his eyebrows at an exhausted Adam, at his limit with Matty’s bullshit for the day.

“Ugh, please stop.”

You wave goodbye to him and walk up to the front door, unlocking it swiftly as Matty trails behind you, legs weak and barely holding himself upright as the toy buzzed inside of him. He lets out a string of gasps as you turn it up, clicking a total of two times with an intention to overwhelm him.

“What's wrong, love? Too much?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. His eyes are glazed over, tears threatening to spill as pleasure radiates through his entire body.

“F-fuck me, jesus thats high.” he pants, chest heaving as you grin, satisfied.

“You picked it out.”

“Not to be used against me.” he shoots back, slowly getting used to the sensation, his mind clearing enough to speak properly.

“And whose fault is that?” you press your lips to his in a chaste kiss, the weight of you against him driving him insane, getting lost in your touch. Pulling away suddenly, you put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“Fuck you-” he cuts himself off with a choked moan, his hand twitching as he attempted to stand up straight.

“Go upstairs and wait nice and pretty for me, yeah? I'll be right there.”

He moves faster than you expect, stumbling up the stairs in the direction of your shared bedroom, his footsteps heavy.

You know exactly what you want to do, the whole day building up to this exact moment. Gathering a few items from a certain box that lived on the shelf in your living room, simple and unassuming, you follow his path, peeling off your shirt as you walk, discarding it somewhere in the hallway.

Matty is naked on the bed when you enter the room, back slightly arched as the plug pressed up against his prostate, his cock hard and aching, leaking all over the sheets. Your heart skips a beat when he smirks at you, his hair thrown carelessly over his face curls obscuring a small part of it.

“No strip-tease today?” he shakes his head, smug expression wiped from his face as his eyes fall on your chest, clad in only a simple, black bra.

“Can’t fucking- please darling, please I need you so bad.” he whimpers, hips bucking upwards as you dangle the remote in front of him, kneeling onto the bed between his legs.

You look up at him with an innocent expression, eyes wide as you watch him squirm, so desperate for your touch it made him dizzy.

“What do you want from me?” you whisper, the edge to your voice making Matty still. Obviously, he was expecting more of a fight, more begging, more effort. You were in a different sort of mood today, much to his delight.

“Sit on my face, make me earn it, please. Wanna taste you on my tongue, make you feel so good.” he moans, the toy making him see stars behind his eyes. Matty’s in a daze that only happens every so often, his cocky and arrogant demeanor nowhere to be seen. Instead, it's replaced by a look of utter devotion, willingness to give up every fiber of himself to you, hand over his mind, body, and soul, placing it carefully in your hands.

“So eager.”

“Only for you.”

His cock twitches against his stomach as you peel off your jeans, your panties quick to follow suit, gone in a pile on the floor. Eyes trained on you, he watches how you shuffle upwards, glistening cunt hovering over his mouth in anticipation. His hands come up to grip your thighs, attempting to pull you down onto him, your resistance making him frown.

“I don’t want to crush you.” you murmur, a small moment of weakness in a situation where you held all the power. He looks at you confused before reassuringly shaking his head, running his fingers over your cunt, making you gasp in pleasure.

“Please.” his voice cracks, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine at the simple word.

Lowering yourself onto him, he tugs you completely onto his mouth, not letting you hover. The room instantly fills with your moans, the sounds bouncing off the walls and going straight to his cock, beads of precum spilling from his tip.

The toy buzzes against his prostate, making him whimper against your cunt as you play with the settings, never letting him get used to it before switching it up. His tongue laps at your clit, sucking it between his lips, creating a delicious suction he knew made your mind go blank. You grab onto the metal bed frame for stability, back arching as the pleasure between your legs took over your entire body.

You hear him whine beneath you, the pressure of the plug getting to be too much, his hips bucking wildly for any sort of friction, being met with only air. The obscenity of his actions only spurs you on, filthy words falling from your lips as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

“So good for me, eating me all messy. Like it when I tell you how good you're being for me?” you breath, words broken up by gasps of pleasure as he draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue. His curls stick to his forehead, the room stinking of sex and his fucking perfume, clinging to his skin like some kind of sex pollen.

“Fuck, i’m so close, please make me cum.” you breathe, looking down to rake your eyes over his face, being met with a blissed out expression as he shoves his way inside of you, tongue stroking your velvety walls.

“Oh fuck, fuck, right there just keep doing that.” he lets you grind against his face, licking a thick stripe over your folds, making you shudder as your climax hits you like a freight train, pleasure crashing over you in mind numbing waves, your legs clamping around his head.

It takes you longer than normal to catch your breath, your skin sticky with sweat as you pant, shuffling down his body to settle on his hips, his cock grinding against your arse from behind.

“So good, love the way you clench around my tongue.” you cringe, screwing your eyes shut at his choice of words. You flush a deep shade of red when he winks at you, licking his lips provocatively, refusing to break eye contact.

“You're so filthy, can you at least try to use metaphors? Christ.”

“Nah, much better seeing you blush for me.” an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, looking unimpressed by his attempt at a flirt. You’d believe he was only joking, purely messing around if it wasn't for the way his cock leaked onto the sheets, twitching at every vibration of the toy inside of him.

“God, your ego is huge.”

“Not the only thing that's huge.” jesus.

“Oh, fuck off, honestly.”

“Only if you promise to fuck me first.” his tone changes, and you know he’s deadly serious.

His eyes flicker over to the strap laying innocently on the bed, silently begging you to have some sort of mercy.

“Did it feel good, almost having the guys catch you?” you ask, lowering your voice as you reach for the toy, your movements excruciatingly slow. He shuffles under you, one of his arms lazily resting behind his head, trying to appear lax.

“Felt even better seeing you watch me, trying to get me to react.” you giggle, his words ringing painfully true.

The whole point of playing with the controls was to see exactly what made him squirm, moan against his glass and attempt to cover the whole thing up with a cough, eyes desperate to find yours as you chatted to George, pretending to be blissfully unaware of his little predicament.

“You did, didnt you?” of course he did, how could he not?

“You try having a massive plug pressed up against your prostate for an hour.”

“Youre so vulgar, fuck's sake.” you groan, pressing a hand to your forehead in disappointment. You loved him, but Matty’s choice of words was incredibly unsexy at times, ruining the mood.

“Just-” he starts, cut off by his own gasp, the toy shifting inside him slightly, hitting his G-spot with jarring accuracy.

“What?” you tease, narrowing your eyes at him as he flushes a deep crimson, the blush spreading from his face down to his chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“Just- fuck me, i’ve been ready for you since-” he yelps when your hands find his waist, maneuvering him onto his stomach, quite aggressively at that. His face is pushed into a decorative pillow, muffling his sounds of protests, much to your delight.

“Since?”

“Since you pressed me up against that door.” he mumbles, rutting against the mattress, an attempt at some kind of relief, having spent the better part of two hours right on that edge, nothing substantial to push him off it.

“Really? Must’ve been pretty painful, walking around hard where our mates could see you.” You think back to Ross’ weird look. Matty had already let slip that he told him more than was necessary, the thought making you shudder. Imagine if he knew the actual reason you had left in such a hurry, desperate to get home to ‘nurse Matty back to health’.

“Please, darling, I'm so ready for it, just let go. Fuck me so dumb I cant think. I deserve it.” he moans, pressing his hips towards you, arching his back. You catch a glimpse of the plug, the sight making your heart speed up, thrumming against your ribcage as you fumble with the strap, using his little ramble to slip it over your hips, tightening the clasps.

“You deserve it, do you?” your mouth is right against his ear as you lean over him, pressing the tip of the flush against his arse. The remote is abandoned on the other side of the bed, too out of reach for you to turn down the toy, leaving Matty helpless and twitching, the pleasure being just too little to make him cum. He lets out an infuriated groan when you chuckle, the bed creaking as you get comfortable on your knees.

“What you deserve.” you whisper into his ear, hearing his breath hitch at the proximity. “Is to be fucking destroyed.” he gasps, feeling your fingertips ghost over the base of the plug before slowly slipping it out of him, leaving him empty and wanting.

“Please.” The word is small, miniscule as he trembles under your touch, his body limp against the mattress.

You take your time, pressing the tip of the strap against his entrance, teasing him until he jerks under you, his voice high pitched and exhausted, yearning for any kind of relief. Brushing his hair out of his face, you grab his jaw, making his neck crane to look at you. His eyes are wide, an insatiable hunger evident in them.

Sultry moans spill from his lips as you press inside of him, barely giving him a moment to breathe before thrusting out, setting a fast-paced rhythm as he writhed against you, grinding back onto the strap like his life depended on it.

“Fuck, thats so good, oh my- yesyesyes.” he whines, hands moving down to grip his cock. You catch him before he does, pinning his wrists above his head as you relentlessly drill into him, drinking every noise he makes.

“So deep, shit. Fuck me, god- harder.” your stomach flips, the sound of him begging you to take him even harder making you feel dizzy with power. He groans against the pillow when you speed up, one of your hands gripping his waist for leverage, hitting his prostate with scary accuracy.

“Harder, yeah? I’m going to take you apart bit by bit, love, make you scream my name until your throat is actually sore.”

“Feel how good I fuck you? Reduce you to little pieces at my feet where you belong.” you're drunk with power, Matty’s twitching and desperate frame beneath you sending you to another plane of existence, making you believe that if there truly was a heaven, this would be it.

“I’m yours, fuck- all yours- Please, don’t stop.” his eyes water at the force of your thrusts, and you feel him shake at the strength of his impending orgasm. You reach down his mouth at his neck, biting down hard, littering his neck with deep, aggressive bruises that you knew would last for days to come, if not weeks.

"You make me feel so good." he mutters, and you feel a sense of pride swell up inside of you.

“Cum for me, love, please, I wanna see how good I make you feel.” his muscles tense under your grasp, arms flexing under the skin of his tattoos.

“I’m so close, please don't stop, fuck, I love you so much.”

You love him too. It's all you could do, show him how much you loved him, how much he occupied your every thought and action. Everything depended on him, nothing existing without the knowledge that he was by your side, giving your life true, veritable meaning.

“So good for me, Matthew. Let go, feel it, let it consume you.” he frantically grinds against the mattress, chasing his high as you whisper dirty words into his ear, encouraging him.

“Oh god- just- fuckkk.” he finally cums with a cry of your name, hips bucking up against your strap as he heaves, sputtering and moaning uncontrollably

“So pretty when you cum, fuck, love it when you scream my name, love.” he goes limp as spurts of cum spill onto the sheets, his thighs tensing at the sheer intensity of his orgasm, eyes screwed shut with bliss.

Your hand releases his wrists, soothing raking your nails over his back, bringing him down slowly, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“You’re perfect, my gorgeous boy.” you coo, peppering kisses down his bare skin, licking at the harsh bite marks from earlier, blooming on his neck.

“Yeah, m’yours darling, all yours.” he mumbles, hazy from his climax, mind still foggy from the pure pleasure he had experienced. You slip out of him, watching how he clenched around the toy, as if trying to keep you inside of him.

“I love you.” you whisper, hugging him tightly from behind.

“I love you too, now get down here.” he violently tugs you down next to him, cupping your face in both hands, still trembling slightly. A genuine smile spreads onto his face as he kisses you gently, enjoying this tender moment of vulnerability between the two of you, wanting it to last forever. The two of you giggle into each other's mouths, giddy and relaxed, at peace.

“I love you.” he rolls his eyes playfully, grinning against your lips.

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

97 notes · View notes

bababerries · 1 month ago

Text

Jack is a lot of things but tbh I don’t really get why people call him a stalker and I do take issue with insinuating he was abusive to Lacie in their relationship (when she was alive that is. His behavior towards her daughters, her best friend/doll and all the things she loved post her demise was extremely awful)

Jack’s behaviour towards Lacie is never normal or healthy and is definitely creepy. But I don’t see how he’s abusive or a stalker. If anything id say one of the issues in their relationship was Jack was too much of a pushover who had such little respect for himself that he never had the will to truly fight for a bond that they both cherished because he just couldn’t see anything beyond. I can’t help but feel like labeling him as abusive in this stage of their relationship a bit cruel towards him and unsympathetic. And I love Lacie to the moon and back but I’ll be honest I do think she was abusive to Jack in this relationship. (I am in no way trying to demonize her for this that’s my babygirl and she’s been through a lot. But I think Jack’s feelings also matter here)

I don't think we talk a lot about how Lacie sexually assaulted Jack (COCSA) in their first interaction with one another. And then later goes onto encourage him to do sex work. And Jack listens.She purposely choose to talk to him as he was someone in a vulnerable position. (Homeless and abused) so that she could play with him. She gives him her earing and tells him to come and find her Do I think Lacie was serious when she was saying this? No. I don't think Lacie genuinely made plans to see Jack again. She was just simply fouling around. This encounter meant very different things for both of them. And for Jack it flipped his whole world on his head. He was shown love for the first time in his life and was encouraged to chase after it by that person so he did. While the efforts he goes to get her is concerning I feel like calling this stalker behavior gives a much different impression and also feels a bit unempathetic to me? And is also just incorrect. Jack spends 7 years trying to find Lacie under the impression that she to wanted this shown physically with the earring. Not 7 years watching her from afar. I think it's also worth noting Jack processed Lacie's love as maternal to an extent. She did things for him a mother should do for a child (give him food, cut his hair, give him life advice and orders, protect him from bad guys, hugs) I don't wanna go super in depth bc i'd love to make a whole analysis on Jack's feelings for Lacie but Lacie even makes this comparison herself

(And once again I wanna preface with I don't think Lacie owes Jack motherhood. In fact i'm very uncomfortable with viewing motherhood in a positive lens in regards to Lacie's arc as it felt like it was always something forced upon her to further abuse and mystify her. )

And the second time. Lacie once again is the one to ask Jack to see her again. (This time however out of genuine desire.) She makes the first move and suggest this of him

I think it's fair to say Jack would probably want to try to see her again after this as an alternative response to "What are you going to do now Jack?" But I feel like it's a bit up in the air/up to interpretation. Of course I 100% think he wants to see Lacie. But he to is scared of overstepping boundaries to an extent that damages their relationship. He doesn't answer his question to her saying "I want to see you again" "I'm going to see you again" "Can I see you again" It's "I don't know." Which I think you can also take as now that Jack has completed the only life goal he's made for himself he doesn't know what to do with himself. He could be hiding his want and desires to surprise her and see her but he has no reason to do that here. Levi also giving him the paper in this scene suggests Jack lacks the knowledge to come back on his own. Point is Lacie made the first move here and asked him to come back once again she's the one pushing things.

Lacie has power over Jack. She's the on with power over him because he was vulnerable towards her. I don't mean to demonize Lacie with this post and perhaps I focused too much of her flaws in the relationship but the main point I wanna make is I do feel like people are too hard on Jack in regards to how he acted in their relationship when she was alive. Unfairly antagonizing him when he's the bigger victim in this relationship.

#sorry if this has millions of typos wrote it before going to bed #jack vessalius #lacie baskerville #pandora hearts #mochijun

36 notes · View notes

demeterdefence · 10 months ago

Note

do you think that the SA with apollo was planned from the start? lots of people seem to think rachel meant it to just be bad sex and then retconned it to be assault

oof, that's a tough one. i have definitely seen that argument / belief in anti lo circles and several other lo critical blogs have discussed this in far more depth with far better understanding than i, so i won't novel spam the dash, but i am honestly and genuinely torn on it tbh.

like it wouldn't surprise me if that's true, because rachel has demonstrated over and over how poorly she understands consent, safe dynamics, and just female agency in the first place. there are definitely some aspects of the initial assault that, looking back on it now, made me wonder. considering how rachel's been trying to retcon some of this out it's difficult looking back at the assault and wonder what exactly rachel's thought process was in the plot as a whole.

that being said, i did not start reading lo until long after rachel was fully fleshed out on webtoons, so i could not even begin to say how she was on tumblr, or anything before the season 2 finale tbqh. and i can give her the credit on this at least, i have always viewed the assault as 1000% no doubt no question assault. genuinely it scares me if rachel wrote and drew that whole thing out and didn't know it was rape, because for many many many people, myself included, it was just so blatantly familiar and clearcut as rape.

it's one of those things that i just can't wrap my head around because it has not been resolved, or really addressed with persephone being in charge of her own healing. it keeps getting thrown in as a kind of hurdle for people to cross, and apollo has never been taken to task for it, punished for it, faced any splash back. even when daphne finds out what he did, she's immediately put into the position of running for her life, and then when she's finally free she just ... doesn't tell anyone?

what's even more concerning is that we see numerous male characters in the text play fast and loose with consent, and rachel really wavers on whether it's bad or not. ares keeps hitting on persephone when she clearly doesn't like it, and he usually ends up getting the narrative coming down on him; zeus lies to demeter to trick her and that gets handwaved away to make room for the bad blood between demeter and hades. hades grooms persephone and then initiates sex when she's in the middle of a bad mental health spiral (obviously just my interpretation of it but i viewed a lot of that scene as persephone having an anxiety attack, and regardless of whether that's canon or not, she's definitely not in the right space for hades to initiate some weird ass daddy dom routine.) so rachel seems to understand what consent is to some degree, but the issue of consent disappears depending on who is asking for it. rachel makes it clear that hades is totally fine and doing the right thing for persephone, whereas if we saw zeus doing that same thing to hera, the narrative would definitively label zeus bad. so whether rachel always intended that scene to be rape, or figured it out later, i think the big question is: why aren't all the characters held to the same standard of consent, and why are so many female characters constantly the victim of men who do not ask?

#answered #anti lo #anti lore olympus #assault ment /#me: i won't write too much (writes a novel)#i honestly don't know is the short answer lmao #i just know that i am so angry and tired of how this plot is used #because it's never addressed reasonably it is ALWAYS used as a way to like ... woobify persephone #and she IS the victim that's not to say she isn't #but it always feels like it's used to handwave when she does wrong #like yeah she is a victim! she's also a bully! the two can co-exist!#anyways thank u for the question im sorry none of this makes sense lol

22 notes · View notes

kaelidascope · 7 months ago

Note

Director's commentary on Something About Moths and a Flame, please!

Oh this outta be fun LOL OKAY

So the overall story of how this fic was even born in the first place stemmed from 2 things. I had an idea to write about a shameless self-indulgence about having an overabundance of experience with cismen with hardly any queer experience. And the little queer experiences Blake did have were not good reference points. Using myself as a default source of plot devices (lmao) I self-inserted the desire to get the fuck out of my current state and wanting to move somewhere north to start over. Bing bang boom, you got a basic background and motive for Blake

I honestly should've expected the fic would be more than just 'bisexual character experiences sex with a seasoned sapphic character' and trying to manifest positive things in my life by writing it out in fic format (who doesn't do that, really. If anyone says they don't they're a liar). Everything I make always turns out to be something way more than it's original concept so what I ended up with here was a story drawing on personal elements and wanting for an outcome that probably wont happen, but it's nice seeing it happen to the bees anyway

Blake's feelings about relationships represent a time in my life where my opinion was exactly hers. After a lengthy discussion with Sawrin over dissecting this fic, I've come to the realization that Yang also represents a time frame of opinions as well. Only Yang's core design comes from a time waaaaay in the past that honestly, I had forgotten existed. It's nice to see it manifest despite being buried, and certainly gives me something to think about when I reread it from time to time.

Readers of MM and Moths can draw lines between Blake questioning why things are so easy when she's with Yang. It's the same principle across the board for most bee fics that Blake's past hasn't been kind to her. It's an alien feeling to suddenly have things be so easy, but difficult to accept they're easy at the same time. I tried to picture how the fuck would I react if I were in this perfect dream scenario and how stupid would it be after the realization hits. Blake and Yang have been dating this whole time and just never accepted it for what it was based on what other people have lead them to believe what a relationship had to be.

The talk they have when Yang's AC is out and they're laying in her bed with the windows open is in reference to a talk I once had that didn't have the outcome I wanted. It carries the same essence of dismay - both parties knowing they want each other but because of the boundaries at play, cannot have what they want. But in this version it's not one sided.

Overall, it was nice getting able to write from a quietly honest place without having to worry about literally every other realistic factor ever. This is about as textbook 'I wrote this for me cus I wanted something that applied to me' as it gets. The ending is my dream scenario. I fucking hate living with partners I can't do it anymore JKNFKGNKJGFN but it's not easy finding someone else who'd agree with me. So the bees get my lost dream of permanent independence. I wrote this thing in 3 days and I was morbidly sick while I was doing it, too. So I'm sure it's littered with grammatical errors and what have you. But my best friend has always been completely head over heels about this work, and it astounds me how much he sings its praise. I'm always genuinely surprised when others find something to relate to in this work as well. I never expected it to be anything more than just a glance. It's not even smut heavy. I didn't think people cared about fics like that LOL (silly, I know) but I am glad I put it out there and it got the response it did.

#Moth bees fic?#idk I never gave this one a tag #bumbleby #rwby #Chef Kaeli's Fic Notes

17 notes · View notes

pomrania · 1 month ago

Text

It's interesting to think about where in your family tree you might have secret relatives; where it'd be mildly surprising, where it'd be REALLY surprising, and where you'd go "yeah that makes sense".

I'm pretty confident that I'm my mother's only successful pregnancy, so any secret full-siblings would have to involve reproductive technology I genuinely don't know if it existed at the time, or magic. I don't THINK she'd have any full-siblings I wouldn't know about; it's always possible that there was one before my grandparents emigrated from the Netherlands, but it's not particularly likely simply because of blood types and the era (Oma is rh-negative, and after my mother she apparently had miscarriages when the fetus was rh-positive, until they had a treatment for that). Oma also could have had a child with someone not my grandfather, before my mother; that was a long time and also a continent ago, I'd have no way of knowing. (Under the cut is continued musings for the rest of my family tree; if you're not interested in that, then you're not missing anything if you don't read it.)

As for the children of my mother's siblings. I'm reasonably sure that Tante H*** only had the one kid, my cousin N***, because N*** is enough of a loser that if she had any other options to claim as her offspring, she would. Uncle J*** had an ill-fated first marriage that MIGHT have had a secret child, I wouldn't know. His second marriage, I'm only 90% sure that I know who all the ACKNOWLEDGED children are (I think there's three), they could have any number of secret children and I wouldn't know it. Tante L*** lives substantially closer (although still an hour's drive away at least), and I've actually seen her at least a few times per year for as long as I can remember; I'd be kind of surprised if she had children I didn't know about, but not too much if it was from before she got married, and ESPECIALLY not if it was when I was really young or not yet born.

My maternal cousins. Except for Tante L***'s children, you could say pretty much anything about them and I'd believe you for lack of evidence to the contrary. At least one of Uncle J***'s children has at least one kid, and I don't know which cousin it is. I'd be surprised if any of my cousins from Tante L*** had children, but it's not like I see them often or have any real contact with them outside of visits, and Tante L*** is absolutely capable of keeping a secret, so it's possible.

And as for any secret relatives that Oma and Opa might have… I don't even know who my ACKNOWLEDGED relatives are on that side of the pond, if someone says "hey I'm your second cousin" and they're from the Netherlands, I'd believe them so long as they know Oma's and Opa's names.

I'd be neither surprised nor unsurprised about secret relatives from my father or maternal grandfather; both of them are dead now, and also I barely knew Opa since he rarely visited (and lived nearly the other side of the country, so WE visited maybe… four or five times total). I mean, I'd be surprised to actually HAVE a secret half-sibling, like "this kind of stuff happens in soap operas and rarely in real life", but I never wanted to think enough about my father's sex life to consider if it would have been uncharacteristic or not.

Other side of the family. I'm confident that my paternal grandmother didn't raise any girls, and that I'm their first grandchild which they knew about, but that's it. I'd be surprised if my father had any unacknowledged siblings, and if Uncle D*** had any unacknowledged children, but there's no actual REASON for that, only "how/why did it get kept a secret for this long". Anything from my other uncles, or from Uncle D***'s children… for all I know some of them got married since the last time I heard from them, I don't know their OPEN state of affairs much less anything they'd be keeping quiet.

#no fandom #not a reblog #rambling

2 notes · View notes

devil-doll13 · 2 years ago

Text

Zachariah ‘Zach’ Johnson NSFW Alphabet

Tw: Smut

I am inexplicably down bad and thirsty for this man so you have to deal with this now. I love doing these alphabets since it allows me to procrastinate more on actual writing lol

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It depends on what kind of sex it was. Generally he’s inclined to leave before his partner wakes up if there was no real feeling behind it, but with you in a serious relationship it might be different. Zach’s moments of gentleness are typically offset with a healthy dose of snark that might make you want to smack him in the face instead of taking his offer to get you some water. He’s genuinely trying, though. And yes, he will carry you to the bath and help you run one for the both of you, just be prepared for him to brag about how he blew your back out in the process 🙄

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’d likely say his back, as in spite of how scarred up and rough it is (although that may have augmented his good looks to you…) it is also strong and broad, the sort of thing he’d see as attractive. He also thinks of his�� Single eye. It’s that deep, dark brown colour, And yes, he has tried the Flynn Rider smoulder before. No, it did not work.

Your back and the small of it is also a place he finds his gaze wandering towards at times, and he has the habit of holding you there. Heaven forbid you wear something that shows it off, in that case he won’t be able to keep his hands off you. Zach also has a healthy appreciation for your thighs, just saying…

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He cums about an average amount, and it’s fairly watery. It sort of just gushes down his length rather than releasing in spurts. Zach is another one who’s cum probably doesn’t taste very good - he’s a heavy smoker and drinker, remember - but he’s not too bothered where it goes. I can also see him preferring the use of a condom overall because he doesn’t want kids (if you can get pregnant) and it makes cleanup relatively simpler.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Considers his occasional bottom tendencies to be this. Zach probably sees sex as another way to gain back control in his hectic life so he thinks of himself as strictly a dom, but he… Definitely cannot deny how his body reacts to aggressive flirting. He’s always been the one to chase, so being sought after himself is thrilling even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

He also finds himself attracted to people he normally despises way more often that he thinks he should.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Very experienced. He gets around quite a bit, and he’s known all sorts. Basically, he can tango, so have no worries. Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, he’ll do his best to make it an enjoyable time for you. He’s not heartless after all.

If anything, the one thing he doesn’t know how to navigate all that well is a serious and committed relationship. Sex is one thing, feelings are another. That said, if he’s decided to actually dedicate himself to you, he’ll try his best although he might have some… Endearingly old-fashioned views of what he should do for dates and such, haha. Behind all that bravado and James Bond mimicking is a dork with unfortunately a lot of baggage - the reason why he doesn’t really want to get hitched in the first place - honestly you might find he’s most charming when he isn’t trying to be.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Considering he spends so long fucking you with his eyes, it might come as a surprise that he avoids eye contact during casual sex. It just feels too personal to him in the moment, y’know? So in that case he prefers facing away from you. If you’re in a serious relationship it’s a little different, but he’ll still take a bit to warm up in being vulnerable with you. Either way, he loves fucking you against the wall or table, or having you bounce on his lap. Lying down has him needing to resist being lazy, which isn’t good if he’s still on the job, but he’s a power bottom at heart and the power trip of being able to sit back and enjoy his cigarette while you just use him is pretty tempting.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Zach is pretty lighthearted during sex, sometimes maybe too much tbh. You might wish he could be more serious, or at least try not to ruin the moment. Eventually you’ll realise this is his way of processing things - sometimes getting past some embarrassment as well - but eventually he’ll figure out when there’s a particularly bad time to stick his foot in his mouth and can it then. It just takes a while.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Most of his body hair is on his face, arms, legs and there’s a tuft on his chest as well. It’s all quite dark so it stands out, and his pubic hair especially is very curly. His personal shaving routine is basically designed to give him as much five o’ clock shadow action as possible, so just be aware of the scratchiness when he kisses (or goes down on) you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, it depends. He’s capable of being detached and quick with it, very much a “wham bam thank you man/mam/etc.” affair lol. That said, he enjoys the seduction, the allure and desire, so it’s never really cold or callous. More like a bright flash of heat that’s gone too soon. He eases into more ‘romantic’ sex the longer he’s attached to you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Tbh I think if Zach was horny he would probably rationalise that it’d be easy for him to find someone to scratch that itch rather than using his hands. He doesn’t mind holding off for a while either; while he can be impatient with certain things, he enjoys the tension and release that comes with being made to wait, even if you make it frustrating.

Besides, if you tease him that just means he’ll have to get you back…

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Edging, Overstim, Lingerie, Biting, Light Bondage (most likely tying you up or using handcuffs, but he’ll experiment with other things), Light Spanking.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Realistically? A hotel room he’s rented out for exactly that purpose. You could do it in one of The Organisation’s safe houses as well but they don’t have very comfortable beds… That’s only a problem if you don’t like it though, he’s very relaxed and will literally take you anywhere: the busted sofa, the desk/table (after he clears all the files off of it), against the wall… You’re starting to think he actually prefers changing it up a little, that he finds it exciting. Besides, how else will he show off his strength other than holding you up?

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It’s really not that difficult. He certainly has a good handle on your body language, so when you give him ‘that look’ he’s pretty much ready to go. Hey, he’s just not the kind of guy who wastes his time, okay? And he appreciates a well dressed partner, so he’ll notice if you gussied up to look all good for him. It only makes it all the better once he gets to undressing you; and he loves watching you try to get his clothes off as well, prompting him to tease you even more. He’s a sucker for nice smelling perfumes/scents as well.

I’m willing to bet he also thinks you’re hot when you’re mad, whether you’re going off on someone else or him lol. He’s infuriating that way; angry sex is definitely on the table (probably where you’ll end up fucking) and I wouldn’t put it past him to end up attracted to someone who he believes he hates or feels competitive with either.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Causing you any pain that goes beyond something like light spanking or biting, knifeplay or gunplay because he’s more cautious than you think, and also anything to do with pregnancy/having kids. That is an entire discussion in itself.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

It’s probably not that surprising that he enjoys receiving the most. He particularly enjoys guiding you and telling you how good you’re doing as you suck him off. Maybe take this opportunity to get your own back on him and edge him; he won’t stop you even if it irritates him.

He always enjoys a challenge, after all.

That said, he prides himself in being a passionate lover and he would never neglect you. He feeds off of your noises and reactions so his eye often flickers to yours as he goes down on you. He likes to drag his stubble against your thigh to annoy you though lol.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He prefers a mixture of both, makes things interesting, especially when he changes pace on the fly in order to tease you. A quickie will have him mostly chasing the high, but as time goes on and you get more serious Zach will probably slow down a bit. Plus, he also kinda gets lazy/tired sometimes.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Most of the time Zach practically runs on quickies, a.k.a one night stands with strangers, so with you he’s also perfectly capable of a quick encounter and then back into the fray again. Of course, with you he might be more inclined to drag it out, especially in edging you since he’s found he enjoys that. But yeah, he’ll default to quick if you’re in the mood and you don’t have that much time. It’s very casual for him.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Yeah he’s game, Zach is actually pretty open to most things unless it crosses some big boundary of his. You’ll probably have to be the one to bring it up though since he’ll mostly stick to what is tried and true if left to his own devices. I mean… It’s also because he’s had plenty of time and energy to understand what he likes before, so…

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Zach is so athletic, he’s used to strenuous physical activities and this is no different. That said, he’s partial to getting in maybe two really good rounds instead of squeezing in as many as possible. It also fills him with way to much pride if he tires you out enough for you to be the one tapping out.

(Especially since with you he sometimes likes to tease and drag it out bc he’s an asshole)

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I’m not sure if he’d go as far as to pack one himself considering he does have to be selective with the stuff he owns travelling around in a car most of the time, but Zach is perfectly willing to use toys on you. Now if you count things such as handcuffs as toys, he does have those and is quite eager to make use of them during sex. I think he’d enjoy tormenting you with a vibrator, he gets off being in control of your pleasure like that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s mean tbh 😭

The one thing he loves most is hearing you whine and beg for him to show a bit of mercy on you. If it’s a quick encounter he’s less bothered about this and more interested in just feeling his pleasure, but you’ll find his sadistic streak might translate over to your activities in the bedroom at times. He’s not going to deny you your orgasm; you will always get it, just not yet. And when you do you might regret it, because he’ll stimulate you into oversensitivity and make fun of you for that; isn’t this what you wanted?

You’ll probably have a safe word just in case though.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s a dirty talker, so much you might want him to shut the hell up sometimes. But there are times where he can really get under your skin and he knows it. Zach swears under his breath a lot and often praises you if you do something particularly good. He believes in giving you encouragement, yeah?

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

His father works as a wood carpenter and would often make little wood carvings for him. I know I’ve mentioned the angel before that he keeps but I also imagine things like cars, animals etc. Zach has tried in the past to emulate him and carve wood himself, but he never got the hang of it and he lacked the patience to not get so frustrated with it that he just wanted to quit.

Maybe an oddly wholesome hc to put in this alphabet but 🤷‍♀️ I just wanted to get it out

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

7 Inches, thin-ish, sleek and cut. His dick curves a little upwards. Zach knows how to use it to go deep, and to hit just the right spots.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high, he’s young and fit and with lots of steam to blow off. Sex is one of his methods of coping with his stressful and often traumatic life. It’s sort of like a sport to him when he’s doing it casually, and he always makes it clear in those case that there’s nothing else to it than that.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t tend to sleep afterwards, mainly because he’s used to recouping and leaving after quick encounters. Zach mellows out a bit, his sweaty chest heaving with exertion as he leans back and lights a cigarette… (He’ll probably offer you one unless you make it clear before you don’t smoke) If you have a moment of respite however, Zach would love to roll over and get some snoozing in with you beside him.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @myers-meadow, @the-pinstriped-hood, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better)

Let me know if you want left off/added to my nsfw list as always

#getting the hang of doing not sfw stuff a bit more now #Zachariah Johnson #Zach #nsft alphabet #alphabet #my writing

15 notes · View notes

our-arospec-experience · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! I'm glad there's a blog for aro-spec identities :)

(CW: Vague mention of some sexual things and like potential romantic feelings)

I'm kind of in a little bit of a pickle- I used to think I was like 100% aromantic. Like, I'd never really had a crush, I did the thing a lot of aros did where they forced themselves to have crushes, I was even repulsed by the idea of a romantic relationship half the time. I was sure I was aro. I also flirt with people quite a lot and it really got intense when a serious relationship I was in (qpr) ended. Everybody I flirted with knew it was kind of a joke and I wasn't interested in a relationship. But there was this one guy who felt kind of different, we'll call him A. I started getting really flirty with him, at first as a joke as I usually do. But he was actually responding to this with genuine feelings and reactions. I continued like this with him (doing some kind of sexual things with him) because he liked it and I liked being wanted. Slowly, however, I stopped flirting with other people. It was exclusively him and I, and I started to actually feel sexual attraction to him (I'm also on the ace-spec, just incredibly sex-favoring so this was surprising to me). I started trying to get into the stuff he was interested in, like his favorite shows and musicals and all that. I tried to always be there for A and make him feel like he was safe and could be himself around me. I was like... "Why do I want to do this? Why do I care so much?" Then, we established ourselves as friends with benefits and would continue to do what we were doing before. But I've been getting really close with him, and I think I'm developing romantic feelings for him. This is hitting me like a train. Oh my god, I am so confused. I have never felt this way for a person, ever. I was 100% positive I was aro and I had finally become at peace with it, and then this motherfucker comes along.

I don't know if I'll feel like this for more people in the future, or if this is just the one time. Should I take down my aromantic pride flag? Can I still use the label? Like I'm so comfortable with it and then A comes along with his cute smile and his pretty voice and idk what to do.

Sorry this was so long and probably not the right thing for your blog- Thanks again for having this blog, I love reading the asks submitted here.

-- 💅(in case I write here again)

that does sound tough. Perhaps you could be demiromantic?

Demiromantic: an individual who does not experience romantic attraction until after a close emotional bond has been formed.

keep in mind, only you can decide what label fits best for you, so if you still feel like aromantic fits, then use it!

hopefully you feel happy with yourself no matter what you decide in the end :)

#tw romance #tw sex #our arospec experience #demiromantic

5 notes · View notes

mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

Text

{16} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Smut (Save a horse, ride a cowboy)

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on ??? 👀)

Words: 15,600

Warnings: Blood, lots of it. Minor cutting of skin mentioned. Mentions of past insecurities. Praise, slight body worship, face sitting, minor breast play, intense emotional intimacy, marking/biting, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), possessive natures, love confessions. (I think that’s all). This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! The next part!! Thank you all for waiting so patiently for me to finish this part, I really hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations!! I’m really proud for the build up in this one, I think it’s honestly more important/significant than the actual smut, so I tried to emphasize that. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Mini Masterlist

The next day, you wake up actually feeling fully rested for once. Your head no longer throbs, and you find that there’s a slight spring to your step. Seems as if Hongjoong really eased your worries yesterday more than you both realized.

Getting ready for the day takes you no time at all, and you figure you’ll spend it doing something exciting. Since they have another council in a few days, perhaps you can convince one of them to take you out of the house for a little bit, even if it’s just for an hour or so.

An idea strikes you then. Perhaps you’ll ask Yunho to take you out to see Brego once more, considering you haven’t seen your horse in a little while. Besides, you’d be together the whole time, so it’s not like Miyeon could just show up out of the blue and attack you.

Which is exactly how you find yourself brushing up against that all too familiar yellow string in the early hours of the afternoon.

Is everything alright, Petal? Always, your comfort and wellbeing are the first things on his mind.

Of course, you smile, quick to reassure him. I was just wondering where you were.

Oh, the genuine surprise you can hear in his voice has you chuckling, and you know that it’s pleasant on his part, nonetheless. You’ve never really inquired about where any of them are in the house before, simply wandering around until you spot one of them, or they find you. I’m in my art room, Petal. You’re more than welcome to come and join me, if you’d like.

Your breath hitches as your heart positively flutters in your chest. You have been meaning to ask him to show you his art room as of late, but you just haven’t found a way to bring it up. You never want to seem pushy or entitled about entering his own space, which is why it makes you so unbelievably happy now that he’s invited you into his studio.

I’ll be right there, you smile faintly, already thinking to yourself how this is a much better way to spend your day than you originally had planned. Perhaps if there’s time, you can still do both. It is quite early in the afternoon, after all.

Keeping your mind open to him, you begin to make your way towards their side of the house and upstairs to Yunho’s art room. Once outside the door, you raise your hand to knock, only for Yunho to suddenly be standing before you in the open archway. A soft smile rests on his face as he chuckles at your surprised expression.

“I heard you coming,” his voice is low, a gentle rumble as he steps aside for the moment. “Please, come in.”

His heart positively warms as he sees you smile faintly at him, slowly crossing the threshold into the room. The whole while you had been walking over here, he could hear the excitement lingering in your thoughts at him showing you his art. A fact of which could not have made him giddier, or any more nervous than he already is.

Sure, Yunho is more than willing to show you anything and everything of his art if you ask, but there will always be that lingering uncertainty within himself surrounding how you may react. Which is why your eagerness is like a breath of fresh air to him.

Stepping into the room, you are careful not to let your gaze linger for too long, except to stare at your feet. You do not want to simply barge in and assume you can look at whatever you’d like. Besides, you’d rather have him show you the parts of himself that he’s comfortable with.

Either way, you both strongly acknowledge the significance of this moment, especially as your thoughts wash over him unashamedly through your mental connection. Another fact which makes his heart sing in his chest, a fondness shining in his eyes as he closes the door softly once more.

“You can look around, Petal.” He chuckles softly, noticing how you have still yet to lift your gaze from your feet. “I don’t mind.”

Finally, you raise your head to meet his eyes, and the softest look he’s ever seen you give him rests on your features. Yunho’s heart positively flutters in response.

“Would you like me to look around, or would you like to show me?” Your tone is low, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes sparkle with that lingering anticipation that he’s only ever dreamed of seeing from you directed towards him.

Yunho smiles, a gentle pull of his lips upwards as he gazes at you with such love in his eyes.

“Come then,” he extends his hand out to you, “let me show you.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you take a step forward, placing your hand in his.

Gently, he guides you through the room, showing you some of his earlier paintings that he’s kept throughout the years of various buildings, plants, and animals. With each new painting, you can see his art style taking shape, noticing the improvement as he compares them to later pieces he’s completed. There are many different types of art, too. Paintings, drawings, sculptures: anything and everything you can think of, he’s created at some point or other.

Each reaction you give him, expression full of awe resting on your features, combined with the shameless way your thoughts echo throughout his head, he drinks in. Yunho absolutely revels in your praises, both subtle and not, and with each passing minute, that worry from earlier dissipates, only further proving how perfect you are for him.

You then take a moment to fully take in the room after he’s shown you the majority of paintings resting against the walls, as well as the canvases rolled up in stacks in the corners. A red velvet antique couch rests off to the side beside the large bay windows, the sunlight filtering in unashamedly and shining off of all of the pieces that you can see. A few easels rest off to the side, one sitting in the middle of the room facing away from you as a stool and a small table with art supplies scattered across the top rest beside it. That must be the piece he’s currently working on.

There also seems to be a few closets lining the room, seeing as one is full of supplies as you peek through the opening. The other remains closed for the moment. A few shelves line the wall closest to the hallway door, filled with little sculptures and sketchbooks, one of which he pulls off of the one shelf.

“Here,” he hands you the black sketchbook. “This is my most recent one.”

Carefully, you take the book from his outstretched hand, an excitement shining in your eyes.

“May I?” You can’t hide the eagerness in your tone as you grasp onto the sketchbook for dear life.

Yunho smiles. “I want you to.”

“Okay,” you mirror his expression, gaze drifting to the black cover as you turn the first page.

A gasp escapes your lips as the first drawing you are greeted by just so happens to be a peony. One of your favourite flowers.

Turning a few more pages, you notice how this sketchbook seems to have a common theme. Each new drawing that is revealed relates to you in some way or other. More sketches of your favourite flowers are on the next few pages, along with your favourite fruits, a picture of your shelves which house your own collection of books and trinkets, as well as some of your favourite animals. Though, the further you get into the sketchbook, the more intimate the drawings become.

Sliding a finger beneath the next page, you drag your hand up the side of the book. What appears to be a case study of your own hands stare back at you, though that’s not what catches your eye first. No, the largest sketch right in the middle of the page is of two hands, intertwined together with their fingers locked in embrace.

You recognize it immediately.

Sparing a glance up at Yunho, you notice he’s moved to sit on his stool resting just beside his easel for the moment. He smiles at you, somewhat nervously as your gaze once more darts down to the sketch of your intertwined hands on the page.

Your lips pull upwards softly in the corners as you stare at the memory, preserved on paper, of the first time you ever held his hand. Your heart skips a beat as you recall that very moment now.

You turn the page.

This time, the sight you are greeted with is another sketch of your hands, only this time, they seem to be weaving flowers together steadily. You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat as you watch the image come alive in your mind, seeing yourself creating that same flower crown which hangs proudly beside the large windows, on full display to any and all that enter the room.

The next image you see is of you, standing right next to Brego as you lean into him. You recognize the field you’re standing in as the one right outside of the stables, and you know that these are his own memories being drawn on the pages in real time.

Your heart begins to race in your chest.

A few more pages are simple sketches of you, candid pictures from times where he’s been looking at you, or you at him, that Yunho has wanted to commemorate as best he can for the time being. One is of you sitting around that table at the mall with all of them, and how you looked as excitement flashed in your eyes. Another is of you standing between bookshelves, condemning such a vile man as you passed your judgement for all to hear. Though, the one that makes you smile the most is the one in which you seem to be holding a tiny little kitten in your arms, an awe filled expression on your features as you smile at whoever it is you’re looking towards. Of course, you know it’s him.

Turning to what appears to be the last page filled in the sketchbook, your lips part as a silent gasp escapes you. There, staring back at you from the page, is your own soft expression, an extremely fond look in your eyes as you gaze almost lovingly at the person on the receiving end.

A warmth blossoms in your chest as you understand this to be the very day they told you about Miyeon, and the way you embraced Yunho as soon as he got back home. The fact that he wanted to commemorate this, all of these moments with you, makes your heart simply flutter inside your chest.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe his name, such tender affection dripping from your tone as you meet his gaze with that look he’s always only dreamed about being on the receiving end of, has his own heart thundering away in his chest. “These are beautiful.”

Another wave of relief washes over him, and he cannot fight the smile that stretches broadly across his lips. “Thank you, Petal.”

“Thank you,” softly, you close the sketchbook. “For sharing this with me.”

“Of course, Petal,” his gaze is soft as he looks towards you. “Though, I’m not done yet.”

“There’s more?” The excitement he can hear bleeding into your tone has him chuckling softly.

“Plenty,” he nods, that loving smile still pulling at his lips. “There are three more that I want to show you right now. Wait here.”

“Okay,” you find yourself repeating your word from earlier as he stands quickly from his stool.

Making his way towards the side door that’s still closed, Yunho is quick to open it and step inside. The small room is filled to the brim with artwork - canvases and the like - all depicting you or the things that you love. For now, though, he’ll reveal them to you slowly, as he can tell you’re already overwhelmed by your emotions at being shown his other pieces for the moment.

Grabbing two canvases, he’s quick to make his way back to you.

Hearing him approach, you turn back around to face him after gently setting his sketchbook back onto the shelf he got it from. You notice him lean one of the canvases against the side of the small table before motioning for you to come closer.

You do.

The angle you stand at still keeps the main canvas on his easel currently out of sight, but that does not matter all too much to you right now. Especially not when he turns the canvas currently held in his hand around to face you.

A small gasp escapes your lips as you see a bouquet of your favourite flowers staring back at you. The detailing alone, even of the ribbon of your favourite colour wrapping around their stems to tie them all together, has your jaw dropping.

The painting doesn’t even look like a painting at all, for the image that stares back at you appears as if it’s a picture, printed out and displayed like a photograph.

“Thank you, Petal,” Yunho grins, hearing your thoughts wash over him shamelessly as you still have yet to close your void to him since entering the room.

“Yunho, this is…” you attempt to find the right words as your eyes flit over every inch of the canvas before you, “incredible.” You meet his gaze, eyes shining as you do. “You’re incredible.”

“Thank you, Petal,” Yunho’s heart leaps inside his chest, a warmth flooding through his veins as he smiles. “Your words mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“This all means more to me than you’ll ever know,” briefly, your eyes dart around his art room before meeting his own once more.

Yunho doesn’t even need to look into your mind to know how truthful those words you have just spoken are. Still, the significance behind them floods his very soul, causing his breath to catch in his throat, tears threatening to begin lining the corners of his eyes at any second.

After another minute of observing the painting, Yunho slowly puts it down to grab the other canvas he has leaning against the table.

“You’ve already seen a version of this one before, but I couldn’t help myself,” he admits, turning the canvas around to face you as a soft smile paints his lips.

Your eyes widen in awe as you see one of the same sketches from the book you’ve just looked through staring back at you.

There you stand in that open field, holding onto Brego as you lean into him. Your head is turning towards your horse, a gentle expression on your features as his mane sways in the breeze. Again, it looks as if someone took a photograph and printed it onto the canvas before you.

Your throat tightens, suddenly overcome by your emotions as you place a hand over your chest. You can feel the way your heart pounds beneath your skin as your eyes shine with such awe and adoration.

“I love it,” you whisper, voice gentle as you meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Yunho’s heart simply flutters in his chest as a bashful smile stretches across his features. “Thank you, Petal.”

“Seriously, Yunho,” you breathe, the fondness dripping from your tone. “I appreciate you sharing this part of yourself with me. I am honoured to see every piece you have shown me today.”

This time, you don’t fail to miss the way he suddenly has to blink back tears as he places the canvas gently back against the table.

“I’m just glad you like them,” his voice is raw, rough from the emotions coursing through his veins in this very moment.

“Like them?” You meet his gaze. “Darling, I love them.”

Yunho swallows thickly, your words meaning everything to him at this very moment. There’s a certain light now shining behind his eyes. A light of which you think you’re beginning to understand.

Finally, he has found that one person that he can share every part of himself with, and who is glad to learn everything there is to know about him. Finally, he has found you, that long since added piece of his soul needed to feel like he is two hundred percent himself again.

You are his Muse. His Petal. His everything. And he will stop at nothing to prove that to you. To prove that his love is true.

“Come,” once more, he extends his hand out to you in offering. “There’s one final piece that I want you to see.”

Briefly glancing down at his hand, you notice the way his fingers tremble slightly in what appears to be nervousness. Sending him a soft, reassuring smile, you step into his embrace.

The feeling of your hand gently wrapping around his own has his heart racing inside his chest, making this moment all the more real for him. This moment, and what he’s about to show you, could not be any more significant to him right now. From the way that he sees you smiling at him, he knows you know it, too.

“I just finished it last night, and I think it’s the crown jewel of my collection,” he admits, allowing you to take a step toward him. “Close your eyes.”

You blink once in mild confusion before doing as told.

In an instant, you can feel him coming to stand behind you, slowly guiding you around the table and to face the final canvas he has resting on the easel in the centre of the room. His grip is firm, but not so much as to hurt you, more so from his own nerves racing throughout his entire body.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho leans in to whisper in your ear. “Open your eyes.”

Immediately, you do as told, blinking a few times to clear your vision as your gaze focuses in on the canvas in front of you. The way your breath hitches in your throat as you observe the painting before you is synonymous with the way your legs give out beneath you. Yunho’s hands immediately move to support your waist as your back presses against his chest.

You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until you raise a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the first of your tears on your skin as you look at the most beautiful piece of artwork that you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

There, resting on the canvas in perfect colour, shines your image, smiling with a crown of flowers resting on your head. A familiar clearing surrounds you in the background as the sun illuminates your figure.

Radiant would not even begin to describe how you look in this painting right now.

“Yunho, I-“ your voice catches in your throat as you slowly lower your hand, heart racing inside your chest as an unbelievable warmth swells within you, filling your lungs with every breath you take. “I don’t know what to say."

Finally, you manage to steady yourself on your feet, Yunho’s hands still gripping firmly at your waist as you lean into him.

“Do you like it?” His voice is low, rumbling out right by your ear as you sense a hint of nervousness to him as he clings onto you for dear life.

“I-“ your voice catches in your throat, overcome by your emotions for the moment, “I love it.” Your reply is breathlessly, and you can feel his grip tighten around your waist.

You take a hesitant step forward and out of his arms, before halting in your tracks. Yunho follows your every move, a fond expression on his features as a warmth blooms in his chest.

“Is this-“ you turn to glance back at him from over your shoulder, “Are you sure that’s me?”

Your voice trembles the slightest bit from the emotions swimming through your very soul. Emotions of which Yunho can feel echoing shamelessly throughout his own mind. Emotions of which have a warmth unlike any other flooding his veins as he is overcome by your awe, your gratitude, but more than all of that, your love.

“Of course it’s you, Petal,” he smiles, eyes shining as you turn back around to face the canvas. He takes this opportunity to step forwards and wrap you back into his arms, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Why would you ever think otherwise?”

“I-“ your voice catches once more in your throat as you swallow, “I don’t think I’ve ever looked that beautiful in my entire life.”

“Nonsense,” Yunho chuckles, his arms tightening around your waist ever so slightly. “You always look like that, Petal.” He leans in closer to your ear, voice dropping subtly. “Beautiful. Radiant. Regal.”

Your breath hitches, and you find yourself resting your one hand over his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I don’t-“ you attempt to blink back your tears. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s because, Petal,” he chuckles, pulling you closer into his chest, that sense of nervousness long since having fled from his body as he completely revels in this moment with you. “This is how you always appear to me. I painted you exactly as I see you; exactly as you are. I am just glad I could finally show you your true beauty through my art.”

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

“Am I-“ you blink once more, another tear falling from your eyes, “am I really that beautiful?”

Yunho’s gaze softens as he rests his head gently against your own, his lips tugging upwards slightly in the corners.

“Of course you are, Petal,” he squeezes you slightly while still holding you in his arms. “Do not ever doubt that for a single second.”

Turning around in his embrace, you stare deeply into his eyes. Your lips part slightly as your gaze shines with such tender love and affection, that Yunho gladly drowns himself in it. A look which he knows is mirrored on his own face right now as he holds you to him.

“I’m beautiful?” Your eyes search his own as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

“Every second of every day,” he confirms with a soft tone, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his own hands tighten their grip on your waist.

“I’m beautiful.” This time, it’s not a question that you pose, but rather a statement. A statement which makes his heart swell in his chest as you say so, because he knows you’re starting to believe it, too.

“Yes,” he nods eagerly, breath hitching in his throat as he continues to stare deeply into your eyes. “You are, Petal. Always.”

“I am beautiful,” you breathe, and you watch as a brilliant smile takes over his features, eagerly nodding along with your words once more as a single tear falls from his eyes. “And you have made me believe it.”

Immediately, Yunho pulls you into his embrace. One of his hands rest on the back of your head as he cradles you to his chest, while the other wraps securely around your waist. You can feel his chest shaking with his sobs as he holds you to him, a happiness unlike any other surrounding you both as you cling onto each other for dear life.

“Thank you,” your voice is raw with your own emotions as you whisper into his ear, tears falling freely down your cheeks and soaking into the material of his shirt. “Yunho, thank you.”

His grip tightens subtly on your body, burying his nose into the side of your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. A comfort unlike anything that he’s ever felt before settles within his very bones as he attempts to catch his breath. His heart swells, happy to know that you finally believe what he and his brothers have always known to be true.

You are beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Always.

“I’m glad I could make you believe,” he whispers, voice strained with the weight and implications of his own words.

A few of his own tears land on your shoulder as he pulls you in impossibly closer, absolutely revelling in this moment with you. There is no greater gift you could have given him today than sharing in these tender moments with him. The fact that you have opened your heart up to him in so many ways, over such a short period of time, has him overcome by a deep happiness that he has not felt in centuries. Not to mention how receptive you are to his art: to him.

“I am so in love with you, Petal,” he breathes out, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “I will spend every day of the rest of our lives proving that to you, in whatever ways that I can. You mean everything to me. I love you. So much.”

Your hands have once more found purchase on his cheeks, cradling him gently in your palms as you search his face for any signs of hesitance or uncertainty.

You find none.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe out his name has his heart fluttering away in his chest, skin tingling as he feels you beginning to brush your thumbs over his cheeks softly. “I am in love with every part of you.”

Yunho’s breath hitches in his throat, and despite the fact that he does not actually need air to breathe, he forgets how to for the moment. Tears gather in his eyes once more as your words wash over him, and he knows that were his hands not firmly gripping your waist right now, they would be trembling uncontrollably. Even still, he can feel his whole body beginning to shake as he stares into your eyes.

“My Queen,” his voice nearly catches in his throat, the first of his tears spilling over from his eyes for the second time in the past five minutes.

You do not hesitate to wipe them away before pulling him into your embrace once more.

For a solid minute, the two of you revel in each other’s touch, simply basking in one another’s presence. Nothing could take this moment away from you, right here, right now. All too soon, you’re leaning away to stare deeply into his eyes.

“Please, do not cry, My King,” the way you hear his breath hitch slightly as you say this has a gentle smile tugging at your features.

“I cannot help it, My Queen,” he blinks, leaning further into your touch as you brush the remainder of his lingering tears away. “You have just made me so unbelievably happy, that I cannot control my emotions.”

“Then, what I’m about to say should make you even happier,” you smile, staring deeply into his eyes with such fondness shining within your own.

“Simply being with you makes me happy, Petal,” he says honestly, fingers digging a littler firmer into your skin. “Any time spent with you is time well spent.”

Your heart swells with warmth in your chest, pulling him in that much closer to you.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Universe.” You hum contently as your gaze flits all over his face, eyes briefly lingering on his lips. “My Universe.”

Yunho swears his heart has stopped beating for the moment as your words settle over him. A roar of happiness wants to escapes him, but he fears it might shatter the windows were he to allow himself the pleasure of releasing it. This moment could not be any more significant to him, nor could what you have just said mean any more to him than it already does. Honestly, this day could not go any better than it has, and to him, it’s only just begun. The fact that your thoughts still echo shamelessly through his own mind is simply icing on the cake.

A fleeting thought of yours has him glancing down at your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own. He pulls you impossibly closer.

You smile at him, such tender love and affection dripping from your gaze. Only, instead of leaning in like he thought you would do, you slowly pull away, creating a little bit of space in between your two bodies.

“Thank you for today, Yunho,” you begin, sliding your hands down his neck in order to rest your palms over his shoulders, and feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “I will cherish these memories for as long as I live.”

Yunho smiles softly, giving your waist a small squeeze beneath his grip. “Will you keep me company for a little while longer?”

“I would love to,” you reply, stepping lightly out of his embrace.

“Actually, if you’re alright with it, I would love to draw you right now,” he admits, a hopeful gleam resting inside his loving gaze.

Your heart skips a beat. “I would be honoured.”

Five minutes later and you’re sitting on one end of the couch while Yunho rests on the other. That all too familiar black sketchbook is in his hands, a pencil gently scratching against the page. Though, he doesn’t have you sitting in any particular pose for the moment, simply stating that he wants to preserve this moment in its raw glory for years to come.

For the next forty minutes, the two of you softly converse between each other as he draws you. Neither of you want to disturb the moment you’ve created, simply happy to bask in each other’s presence with idle small talk filling the silence. In fact, the original reason for seeking him out practically slips your mind, perfectly content to spend the day with him like this instead.

Still, you have yet to close off your mind.

“Alright,” Yunho’s voice manages to pull you out of your thoughts a few minutes later as you watch him sit forward on the couch, “I’m finished.”

Immediately, you scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around one of his own as you lean into him. Glancing down at the page, you see a beautiful sketch of yourself staring back at you, and once again that sense of awe and wonder fills your veins.

“You’re incredible,” you breathe, resting your head against his shoulder as you continue to observe the image before you.

“Thank you, Petal,” a blush begins to creep up his neck, his whole body warming as he feels you clinging onto him. “I’m just glad I can capture your beauty like this, and that you like it.”

“I love it, Yunho.” You turn your head ever so slightly to glance at his profile, a tender smile gracing your features as you place a lingering kiss onto his cheek. “I love you.”

You can feel the pleased growl reverberate throughout his entire body as you say this, only causing you to chuckle.

“I am curious, though,” you begin, and you notice the way he gently closes the sketchbook only to turn his gaze to you in the next moment. “Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to paint but you have yet to do so?”

Something within his eyes flash as he meets your gaze. “You, Petal.”

You blink, “you mean like me posing for you?”

“Not quite,” he chuckles. “Though, I would never say ‘no’ to that if you offered.”

Your brow furrows slightly in confusion, gaze drifting to the canvas in the middle of the room with your image proudly displayed on it. “I don’t understand.”

“Sure, I’ve painted your image before,” he hums, noticing how you lean slightly away from him to stare into his eyes. “However, I long for the day where you will allow me to paint you.”

Once more, you blink. Until realization hits you.

“Oh. Oh,” your eyes widen ever so slightly as a heat blooms on your cheeks. “You want to paint me. My body.”

“More than anything,” he breathes, his hands subconsciously tightening around the sketchbook still clutched in his grasp. “Only if you’re comfortable with it, though. I would never expect it of you, nor do I want you to ever be uncomfortable-“ his words get caught in his throat as he watches you lean slightly away from him in order for you to slip off your shirt. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, “what are you doing?”

Folding your shirt and draping it over the back of the couch, you turn back to him.

“You said you wanted to paint me, no?” Your smile is soft, the slightest of quirks to your brow.

“I did,” he confirms, his voice slightly strained as he goes to clear his throat. Briefly, his eyes flit over your now exposed torso, breath hitching as he sees you wearing a yellow laced bra. His favourite colour. “I do.”

“What better time than the present?” You inquire, meeting his gaze once more. “My back should suffice for now. Then, we can take it from there. Okay?”

The fact that you’re even letting him paint your back for the moment fills him with a sense of love unlike ever before. Not only that, but the fact that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable with him has a warmth unlike any other flooding his veins.

Yunho will never forget this, for as long as he lives. The intimacy of this moment alone has his head spinning. Besides, the added implication that you’ll possibly allow him to paint more than just your back for the moment has a content rumble building in his chest.

“As long as you’re comfortable, Petal,” his words are slightly strained with the significance of this moment, his emotions swirling unashamedly through his chest as he meets your eyes.

“Of course I am, Universe,” you smile at him reassuringly. “I trust you.”

The way you can visibly see his throat bob as he swallows his emotions has you placing a gentle hand onto his arm once more.

“As long as you are comfortable, Yunho.”

Turning his head to meet your gaze, he gives you a soft nod, his eyes shining with his overwhelming emotions. You can see the joy clearly represented there, but also the love, affection, and care swirling within as well. Not to mention the excitement.

“Where would you like me to sit?” Your voice is soft as you tilt your head slightly in inquiry.

In the blink of an eye, Yunho has made a simple wooden chair appear in front of him.

“Is this okay?” He turns to look at you once more, carefully observing your features to see if he can find any hint of discomfort or hesitance from you.

He finds none.

“This is perfect,” you shoot him a reassuring smile as you move from the couch to the chair. You cross your arms over the top of the back, resting your chin over them in the next moment. “Will this be okay for you?”

“Of course, Petal,” he replies softly, the tips of his fingers reaching out to trail gently over the skin of your shoulder blade, and causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Just let me grab my paint, and I’ll get started.”

Just as Yunho goes to stand from the couch, your next words nearly have him stumbling over his own feet.

“Oh, so you are going to use paint, then?” There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and even as he searches your thoughts, he cannot seem to figure out what other implications you could be referring to.

Besides, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“What else did you think I would be using, Petal?” He chuckles, moving to step around you in the next second as he goes to place his sketchbook onto the table.

You catch his gaze, and the intensity he sees swirling within you orbs has him freezing in his tracks once more; Yunho stands completely mesmerized by you for the moment, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Sure, you can use paint if you still want,” you shrug, seemingly nonchalantly. “I just thought since it’d be your first time painting me, you would want to use something a little more intimate.”

Yunho’s gaze darkens as he licks his lips, “intimate how, Petal?”

“You’re the artist, Universe,” you grin deviously. “What do you think I mean?”

Oh, there are many different interpretations to your words. Ones which Yunho gladly, and shamelessly, indulges in right now, thoughts flitting through his mind of all the different intimate ways he could paint you in him.

At the way you see his eyes swirl with that all too familiar blackness, you chuckle.

“Use your blood, Yunho,” you watch as his eyes flash black, a pleased growl escaping him as he maintains eye contact with you as your words wash over him. “I want you to paint me in you.”

“My Queen,” he breathes out, attempting to control himself for the time being. “Do you understand the meaning behind something so intimate?”

“I do,” you nod once, a knowing smile stretching across your features as you move to undo the clasp of your bra behind you. Once the offending material has been removed from your body, you’re leaning forward, resting your chin on top of your crossed arms over the back of the chair once more. “Which is why I am offering myself to you, My King.”

“Those are dangerous words, Petal.” Yunho swallows once more, slowly stalking back towards you with dark eyes.

“Then these will be even more so,” you grin, your own eyes flashing as you watch him take a seat once more on the couch behind you. You glance at him from over your shoulder, “because once you’re done, I’m going to paint you.”

Yunho doesn’t even attempt to suppress the pleased growl that rumbles from his chest as he pulls the chair right between his open legs. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating against your back as he strokes a tender hand down your spine, his thighs encasing your own.

Carefully, you extend your back upwards, stretching your spine and displaying your bare skin to him fully. A dangerous smirk tugs at your lips as you spare him another glance form over your shoulder, noticing how he barely suppresses the darkness swirling in his eyes as he studies the beautiful blank canvas before him.

“Paint me in you, My King,” your voice is but a low drawl on your lips, causing a shiver to race down his spine. “Mark me as yours.”

“As you wish, My Queen,” a pleased rumble is all you receive from him in response as you feel him lean into you.

Your whole body jolts as you feel him place his lips against the skin of your back, right in-between your shoulder blades. Slowly, he trails sensual kisses upwards against your spine as his hands find purchase on your sides, thumbs stroking at the skin tenderly. Your breath hitches as you feel him bite down lightly on the back of your neck, right where it meets your shoulder.

“Mine,” the word is but a low growl against your skin, and you cannot help the way your heart positively flutters in response.

Yunho smirks hearing your reaction loud and clear.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you, his hands leaving your sides for the moment as he meticulously rolls up his sleeves. He can tell even without looking into your thoughts that anticipations claws away at your chest, given the way your breathing becomes just the slightest bit unsteady as you wait for him to properly begin.

Slowly, Yunho raises his one wrist, allowing one of his nails to sharpen into a point as he drags it across his skin. Immediately, blood begins to swell against his flesh, the vibrant colour contrasting against his skin. Dipping two fingers through the substance, he takes a deep breath, attempting to steady his racing heartbeat for the time being, and focus in on the task at hand.

For too long has he dreamed of painting you in him like this. Nights have been spent shamelessly fantasizing about how, and what he would paint his marks on your body with. Already, he has the design in mind, and there is nothing more intimate, nor significant than what he is about to do.

The first touch of his fingers against your spine is nothing more than a gentle caress, the blood causing tingles to erupt along your skin despite the warmth that you feel. Each stroke is fluid. Precise. A design unlike anything you’ve ever felt before being drawn over your upper back, just to the left of your spine. A design of which rests directly over your heart from behind.

With each drag of his fingers over your flesh, Yunho paints his name on you in the ancient tongue, claiming you in any and every way he knows how. Languidly, his fingers trace patterns over your skin, swirls like wisps of smoke and vines branching out over every inch of your exposed back as he continues to claim you as his own in such an intimate way.

His touch is soothing, and so, so sensual, that you find your breathing deepening along with his own. Your hands clutch onto the top of the chair for dear life as you attempt to ground yourself, not wanting to think about how good his hands feel tracing along the curve of your spine for the moment as he works meticulously on the design on your back.

With each press of his fingers, Yunho can feel your heartbeat syncing with his own. A fact of which that could not make him any happier than he is right now. You still haven’t closed off your mind to him, either, so every single fleeting thought of yours echoes throughout his own as well. The way he can sense how much you’re enjoying this, which is just as much as he is for the moment, has a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins. The fact that you shudder when he shares his own thoughts, his emotions and desires with you, has a pride unlike any other swirling within him.

It seems as if he’s not the only one having trouble controlling himself right now.

The whole time he works, Yunho unashamedly allows his eyes to bleed black, absolutely revelling in each new design that he creates against your skin. Slowly, each red swirl branches out, covering you in him, just as he’s always dreamed of.

As it should be. As it will always be.

His thighs tremble, doing his best to hold onto his last bits of sanity as he takes a deep breath in. The way your scent is now intertwined with his own in such a way makes his head spin, a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins. Already, Yunho finds it hard to control himself, and the added fact that he can smell your arousal beginning to permeate the air does nothing to help the way his already semi-hard cock twitches once more beneath his slacks.

He clears his throat.

“Almost done,” his voice rumbles out, strained and low.

You nod softly as you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat.

“Do you-“ your voice catches slightly as you lick your lips. “Do you want to do the front?”

Yunho’s breath hitches, his thighs tightening ever so slightly around your own as his fingers pause momentarily in their movements over your back.

A brief silence passes over the both of you. Enough to have you turning to spare a glance at him from over your shoulder. What you see staring back at you has your breath hitching in your throat.

There Yunho sits, eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness as his intense gaze is already locked onto your own. His chest heaves with every silent breath he takes, whole body tense as his hands begin to shake.

“Yes,” he practically moans out, lips parting as his breath comes in ragged pants. “Please, My Queen. I would love nothing more.”

Turning back around, you raise your head, sitting to your full height as your back straightens.

“Let me know when to face you,” your voice is low as you stare forwards, and you don’t even need to look at him to know that he’s heard you loud and clear.

Not even two minutes later, you feel his fingers lift from your skin.

“Whenever you are ready, My Queen,” Yunho breathes, his chest rising dramatically with each inhale that he takes, “you may turn around and face me.”

It’s as if the whole world moves in slow motion. Carefully, you begin to rise from the chair, your own legs trembling slightly as you turn to face him.

The whole time, Yunho keeps his gaze locked on your face. He wants you to know that he respects you enough to not sneak a peek at your body, nor does he want you to think that that’s the only reason he agreed to paint your front. He is an artist, after all, and he can control himself. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself for the time being.

Throughout his many years of perfecting his hobby, Yunho has seen many naked and exposed bodies of all shapes and sizes. However, never has he ever had to exercise such restraint as he does with you.

To him, there is no greater significance, nor moment than this one right here, right now, with you. The fact that you trust him enough to be exposed and vulnerable in this way has a love unlike any other flooding his veins, drowning him in a warmth that he has never before felt in all of his long years of life.

You are the greatest masterpiece he has ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes upon, and the fact that you are allowing him to touch you in such a way, claiming you as his own using such intimate and sacred means, has his hands shaking once more. His head spins, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Gently, his hands move to rest on your hips, careful not to smudge the trails of blood wrapping around your sides for the moment. Looking up at you with such a tender gaze, his eyes shine, throat bobbing as he swallows the sudden dryness within at the feeling of your hands coming up to cradle his face tenderly in your palms.

For a moment, nothing is said between the both of you as you continue to gaze lovingly at his face, eyes taking in every feature before you.

“Is there something wrong?” Yunho voices gently, worried he may have done something to make you hesitate for the moment, or uncomfortable.

“Not at all,” you smile softly, shaking your head. “I was simply admiring the art.”

“Petal,” Yunho’s gaze softens, his breath catching in his throat as his heart swells with an unbelievable amount of fondness in his chest for you and you alone.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho guides you onto his lap, pulling you as close as he can for the moment while still giving him ample space to work. He needs to feel you pressed up against him now. He cannot continue any other way.

However, before he can so much as reopen the cut along his arm, your tender gaze captivates him once more.

Softly, his thumbs brush against the skin of your hips, gazing tenderly into your eyes as you keep his face cupped in the palm of your hands. Neither of you move, too caught up in the moment with one another, absolutely mesmerized by the way the other’s eyes shine beneath the light of the afternoon sun.

“You are a Goddess amongst mortals, My Queen,” he breathes, nothing but the sincerest form of truth dripping from his honeyed words as he continues to stare deeply into your eyes.

“How lucky I am, then, to find solace with My God,” your own voice is low, nothing but a mere whisper as you both lean in closer to one another.

He glances down at your lips as another moment of stillness passes between the both of you. That is, until he’s breaking it once more.

“Please,” he swallows once more, heart fluttering in his chest, “kiss me, Petal.”

Your lips are on his own without a second thought.

The pleased hum you can feel reverberate against your lips has you smiling into the kiss, Yunho pulling you even closer into him for the time being. The way you hum against him as you feel his hard cock pressing delicately into your core has his grip tightening around you.

A small gasp escapes you as he helps you grind down into him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he deepens the kiss. The way you whimper into his mouth is simply music to his ears.

Desperately, your hands tangle in his hair, threading through the soft locks as you pull him closer into you for the time being. The way his tongue feels, slowly moving against your own has a fire igniting within your veins, burning beneath your skin with every beat of your heart. A heart which you know echoes his own right now.

Carefully, you pull yourself away. Enough so, that you begin to trail gentle kisses along the skin of his neck, biting down and creating your own marks for all to see.

“Petal,” Yunho groans, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you lave your tongue over a particularly firm bite you’ve just given him. “I still need to finish.”

Yunho can feel you smirk against his skin before leaning away from him. The devious look he sees shining in your eyes has him twitching once more beneath you. A fact of which he just knows you feel, especially as your smirk widens.

“But of course, My King,” you settle yourself back into the first position he had pulled you into on his lap with ample space between your two bodies for him to continue. “I would love nothing more.”

The pleased rumble that escapes his chest has you smiling once more as you watch him reopen the cut on his arm to continue right where he left off. Only this time, there’s a thicker air of tension surrounding the both of you.

With each movement he makes, your eyes shamelessly follow him, flitting between his face and roaming all over his still covered torso in front of you. From the way you lick your lips, Yunho doesn’t even need to look into your thoughts to know that you like what you see. A fact of which that has a pride unlike any other swirling within his chest.

Slowly, meticulously, Yunho connects the swirls and branches from your back over the skin of your chest and stomach, wrapping himself around you in every and any way that he can. Another design is drawn directly over your heart, depicting the symbol for Queen in the ancient tongue, and once it’s complete, another pleased growl is escaping Yunho’s chest. His eyes flash black once more.

Gently, his fingers trace over your collarbones, connecting the lines from your back in two large swirls over your upper chest. Each new line branches outwards, intricately wrapping around your entire body as he continues to paint you in him in such an intrinsic way.

For a brief moment, Yunho pauses. Slowly, carefully, he takes your one arm in his hands, raising it up and bringing the back of your hand up to his lips. The tenderest of kisses is placed onto your skin before he turns your palm to face him, repeating the motion until he’s trailed his lips up your arm as far as he can go. Turning his head, he’s quick to mirror each kiss onto the skin of your opposite arm, too, stopping only briefly to press his lips onto the skin of your wrist and feeling your pulse flutter beneath him.

In the next moment, Yunho begins tracing designs down your arms, wrapping the swirls and branchlike vines down your skin and all the way to your wrists. He can feel your eyes on him, watching his every movement, and only causing his whole body to heat from your intense stare. Already, he’s finding it so hard to control himself, and with the way you’re looking at him right now, he finds the task even more difficult to do so.

Yunho is smart, though, saving the most sensitive of places for last as he finishes wrapping the design around your stomach. Finally, he moves back upwards, branching his blood outwards from the symbol over your heart.

This time, when he places his fingers against your skin, his touch is light, nothing more than a tender caress against you. Slowly, meticulously, Yunho guides his fingers over the sensitive flesh of your one breast, following the gentle curve of your body.

His breathing deepens, eyes flitting up to your own to check in with you and make sure you’re still okay. At the way he sees you staring down at him, eyes hooded as your own breathing deepens, Yunho has to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat.

The closer his fingers get to the skin of your hardening nipple, Yunho can feel the way you shiver beneath his touch. A pleasant thrum begins to echo through his veins with every pulse of his heart, and the fact that he can feel your own beating in time with his is simply icing on the cake. There is no greater feeling to him right now than sharing such a tender moment with you.

All too soon, he’s completed the swirl around your one breast and is moving on to the other. Again, his fingers are but a gentle caress against your skin as he traces the swell of your tender flesh, eyes dark as he keeps them locked with your own.

Teasingly, he allows his fingers to ghost over the skin of your opposite nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “May I?”

“Please,” your response is but a breathless plea as you arch into him.

Immediately, his mouth is on you, encasing your one nipple as he laves his tongue over the pert bud, suckling gently all the while. At the whine he hears you let out, Yunho cannot help but to hum contently against your flesh, savouring this moment as he allows his eyes to flutter shut.

He pulls you closer.

Carefully, he releases your one nipple after giving it a final flick with his tongue, moving over to give the same attention to the other. The way your hands tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him closer into you as you feel his mouth attach itself to your skin once more has another pleased rumble escaping him.

The whole time his lips are on you, his eyes never leave your face, wanting to catch every single beautiful expression you give him and commit it to memory. The way you keen into him as he suckles gently on your flesh has his eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness once more.

Shamelessly, Yunho’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer as you begin to slowly grind yourself against his aching cock once more. At the way you feel him moan against your skin, you smile.

In the next moment, you’re gently guiding him off of you, pulling him back using the hair at the nape of his neck to meet your gaze once more. Without another thought, you place your lips onto his own, not bothered in the slightest by the small bit of his own blood you can see shining along his mouth. The fact that you go so far as to trace his bottom lip with your tongue has a pleased growl escaping his throat, you immediately swallowing the sound.

Your breaths mingle as you pull away just the slightest, chests heaving as he begins to nip at the skin of your jaw.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, placing an open mouthed kiss onto the skin of your neck.

“Radiant,” he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot which elicits the sweetest of moans from your lips.

For only a moment, his lips part from your skin. Leaning back, his eyes glance down at the mark on your chest before staring deeply into your own, the fondest of gazes shining within, hidden behind that all too familiar swirling darkness filled with nothing but desire for you.

His thoughts echo shamelessly throughout your own mind and your breath hitches as he reveals the meaning of the symbol he’s painted directly over your heart.

“Regal,” his grip tightens once more, the word but a growl on his lips as he feels your hands come to rest on his chest.

Not even a moment later, your fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

“May I?” You meet his intense gaze, staring at him with a soft look shining in your own.

“Yes, My Queen,” he replies almost immediately, tone but a whisper on his lips. “Anything for you.”

“Good,” you smile, slowly beginning to unbutton his shirt, “because I still need to claim you.”

The moan that escapes his throat is nothing short of desperate as he tosses his head back. His eyes squeeze shut, that all too familiar tightening of his abdomen causing his whole body to tense as he attempts to control himself.

Never could he have imagined the effect those simple words of yours would have on him. Given the context, too, Yunho finds his head absolutely reeling. Pure desire courses through his veins, heart feeling as if it’s about to beat right out of his chest at any moment.

The feeling of your hands roaming over his bare torso draws him back to reality, and he opens his eyes just in time for another shiver to caress his spine. The dark gaze he sees swirling behind your own irises has his whole body shaking as you slowly push the material of his shirt down his arms. The way you lick your lips as you see his own body fully revealed to you for the first time has a pride unlike any other coursing through his very soul.

“You’re so pretty, Yunho,” your voice is low, as if sharing the most intimate of secrets with him as awe paints your features. “So pretty, and all mine.”

The snarl of approval that tears from his lips has his eyes flashing black in an instant.

“All yours, Petal,” his voice rumbles out, words but a growl on his lips. “And you’re mine.”

The way his grip tightens once more over your thighs elicits the sweetest of giggles from your throat.

“I’m yours, Universe,” gently, you stroke his hair back from his forehead, placing a tender kiss there in the next second. “Now, let me claim My King just as he has claimed His Queen.”

The second snarl that tears from his throat is nothing short of feral, mouth parting as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you for dear life just as he attempts to hold onto whatever last bits of sanity that he has for the moment.

“Are you-“ he pants, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, “are you sure?”

You cup his face gently in your palms, a loving smile resting on your features as you continue to straddle his lap. “More than anything, Yunho.”

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you stare deeply into each others eyes. An understanding unlike ever before washes over the both of you, feeling connected in a way neither have felt in your entire lives.

Slowly, you raise your arm, wrist on full display as his eyes lock onto an untouched piece of your skin.

“Will you do the honours?” Your voice is gentle, a tender caress as he glances into your eyes once more.

Yunho takes a moment to look at you. To fully and truly look at you. Here you rest, the love of his life, his Queen, offering yourself to him in ways Yunho has only ever dreamed about. The fact that you want to claim him in the exact same ways that he has just claimed you has a warmth flooding throughout his very soul.

Nothing can take this moment with you away from him. Absolutely nothing.

Yunho takes the time now to search your eyes - your mind - for any sort of hesitance or uncertainty on your part. He finds none.

“I would love nothing more, My Queen,” he breathes, hand coming up to gently cradle your wrist.

Once more, Yunho places his lips over the skin of your wrist before bringing his opposite hand up and gently tracing a soothing line over your skin. He meets your eyes briefly once more in one final confirmation. At seeing the subtle nod you give him, he sharpens his nail into a point, creating the faintest of cuts along your flesh.

Of all of the sensations you expected to feel against your skin, you never expected this. You were sure it was going to sting slightly, especially the initial breaking of your skin. However, you weren’t expecting it to simply tingle, a warmth blooming within your veins wherever his fingers grace your skin.

You just know that he has something to do with it.

Of course, Petal, his voice resounds in your head, the gentlest of caresses to your mind as you find yourself leaning subconsciously into that phantom touch. I swore to never hurt you, even in such a way as this.

Without question, and without any hesitation, Yunho takes away any and all pain his intrusion would have caused.

You smile, thumb gently caressing his cheek for the briefest of moments before you’re shifting your position. Leaning back slightly, you observe the plains of his chest, noting every dip and curve of the blank canvass before you.

Taking a deep breath, you begin.

The whole time you work, your own hands shake, though from a completely different reason that his own had. Yes, you yourself cannot believe that this is actually happening right now, but more than all of that, you do not want to mess this up.

You start slowly at first, fingers gently trailing over the skin of his exposed chest until you find your own rhythm as you work. Shamelessly, your eyes trail all over every expanse of his body revealed to you, and you can feel the prideful rumble that builds within his chest every time you do so.

Yunho’s eyes flutter closed, heart thundering away beneath his skin as he feels your delicate fingers tracing patterns over his own skin. What truly makes his head spin is the way you recreate the same swirls and branches over his own flesh in your own blood, paining him in you in such an intimate way as he painted you.

His breathing deepens, chest practically heaving with each inhale he takes. Not only is this moment so, so significant and meaningful to him right now, but the way you’re staking your own claim on him using your own blood has his head spinning. The way he can smell your own scent now mingling with his own drives him insane, and the way your arousal permeates the air only adds to the emotions swirling inside of him right now.

His waning sanity already feels so close to snapping.

Gazing down at his chest with hooded eyes, you pause momentarily in your movements. You know he knows that you’re not done, but there’s a question lingering in your mind which has his heart warming more than you’ll ever know.

A moment later, an image is appearing within your thoughts of a design similar to the one on your own chest. Meeting his gaze, you already know that this is the matching symbol to the one you already wear, especially if the way his eyes shine with such a tender love and fondness as he stares into your own is any indication.

Without another second of hesitation, your fingers are back on his skin.

The care you put into every movement does not go unnoticed by him as you work to recreate that same symbol over his own heart. A heart which thunders away beneath the skin of your fingers. A heart which pulses alongside your own, beating for you and only you.

There, directly situated over his heart, resides the matching symbol to your own in the ancient tongue. Your King to match His Queen.

An overwhelming sense of happiness and love floods his veins. The meaning of this claiming could not be any more clear, and the fact that it was you who suggested it be done in each other’s own blood has a warmth unlike ever before growing within his soul. A soul that belongs to you, along with everything else that he is.

The feeling of your fingers slowing over his skin draws his attention back to this moment here in time with you. He can tell that you’re close to finishing, that pleased look resting on your features enough to have his whole body heating as you continue to stare down at him with a hooded gaze. Your breathing has long since synched, chests heaving with each inhale you make.

His thumbs begin stroking over the skin of your thighs.

“My Queen,” his voice rumbles out, low and rough from the emotions swirling within him at this very moment.

The way your whole body jolts as he pulls you further into his lap, your aching core settling directly overtop of his hard cock once more, has a pleased rumble building in his chest. Your scent floods his senses, his entire body screaming in need for you: the need to touch you, to please you in every way he knows how, until the only thing left in your mind is him begins to drown his every thought. He needs to feel you pressed up against him.

He needs more. Yunho craves it more than anything. Whatever you’re willing to give him, he will take. Shamelessly and selflessly. And then some.

Yunho closes his eyes, attempting to control the last bits of his sanity for the time being. The last thing he wants to do is to make you uncomfortable, or scare you away. Especially not after this tender moment he’s just shared with you.

His whole body begins to shake.

“Yunho,” the way you breathe his name does nothing to help his waning sanity as his mouth parts in a breathless moan.

“Please, Petal,” his voice is strained from the way he desperately holds himself back from absolutely ravishing you for the moment. “Please, let me touch you. Let me claim you in every way I know how. Let me drown you in a pleasure only I can provide for you, until all that you can think about, until all that you know, is me.”

The way your breath hitches has another shiver running down his spine.

“I want to watch you lose yourself on me over, and over, and over again as we become one,” he meets your gaze, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them. “I want to watch you succumb to the pleasures of your own body, taking everything and anything that you need from me. I want to be there every step of the way to help guide you through an ecstasy that I have created just for you.”

“Please,” Yunho’s lips part, “won’t you let me?”

“Yes,” the word escapes you breathlessly before you even have the chance to hesitate. “As long as I get to do the same to you.”

“Petal,” his heart warms, gaze softening as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You already have.”

You blink, clearly caught off guard by his words. He chuckles.

“Just let me take care of you, Petal,” he leans forward, placing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. “Let me please you.”

“Alright,” you smile, brushing his hair back from his forehead once more. “But only after I’m done claiming you first.”

Yunho’s heart skips a beat as he sees you begin to move off of his lap in the next second. Sinking down onto your knees, you slowly, teasingly, trail your hands up his clothed thighs, his skin tingling everywhere you touch. The dark gaze he sees swirling within your eyes makes his head spin, his throat bobbing as he swallows the sudden dryness within.

“Petal, you don’t have to-“

“Shhh,” you coo, hands slowly moving upwards to begin undoing the button on his jeans. “I want to.”

A low moan escapes his lips as he feels you palming his throbbing erection over his jeans, his eyes locked on the way your hand moves over him. His hands grip the sides of the couch for dear life as you meticulously drag the material of his pants down his legs, ridding him of his final pieces of clothing in the next minute. The way you lick your lips as your eyes lock onto his weeping cock has him twitching against his lower stomach.

“So pretty, Yunho,” your eyes dart up to meet his own as your hands slide teasingly up his thighs once more, “and all just for me.”

The moan that tumbles from his mouth is low, chest rumbling in approval as he feels you gently grab his aching cock in your one hand. Slowly, you drag your thumb over his leaking tip, pumping him a few times as your lips attach to the skin of his inner thigh. He nearly comes from the feeling of your teeth sinking into his flesh, your tongue laving over the sensitive mark in the next second.

“I’m all yours, My Queen,” another moan escapes him as he feels you trailing open mouthed kisses along his inner thigh. “All for you.”

The way your grip tightens ever so subtly around his cock, your eyes flashing, has him twitching once more in you hand. Already, he’s been close to coming at least three times today, and you’ve barely done anything to him yet.

Yunho wouldn’t want it any other way.

You take your time, marking up his thighs with your mouth, nipping and sucking on the tender flesh. All the while, your one hand never leaves his cock, stroking him in time with the movements of your lips over his skin. Though, just as he watches you lick your lips, eyes hungrily gazing at his throbbing erection, he stops you.

Immediately, concern is washing over your features, worried you’ve gone too far, too quickly. “Are you okay?”

Little do you know of how much your concern for him makes his heart warm.

“More than okay, Petal,” he assures you with a smile, helping you back onto your feet.

He can see the questions forming on your lips, as well as in your mind, but before you can utter a single word, he steals your breath with another passionate kiss. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own.

“Another time, I promise, My Queen,” he breathes. “I simply do not want to come before the time is right.”

“Oh,” a pleasant heat blooms on your cheeks at his words, a sly grin tugging at your lips. “That worked up, huh, Universe?”

“You have no idea,” he breathes, caressing the side of your face gently in his one hand as his thumb strokes over your skin.

In the next moment, he’s shifting on the couch, laying down as you watch him with curious eyes.

“That, and I do not think I can wait a moment longer,” he pulls you closer by the thighs, eyes dark as he scents your arousal once more. “I have to taste you, Petal. I need to feel you dripping onto my tongue and drowning me in everything you.”

The way your own breath hitches in your throat is synonymous with how you can feel yourself clench around nothing. Your thighs begin to shake.

“Please, My Queen,” his eyes briefly glance up into your own, nothing but a desperate look shining within as he pulls you in closer to him, “sit on my face.”

You lean over him slightly, hand grasping onto the back of the couch as you begin to raise your one leg. Only, you find yourself pausing momentarily as you stare into his eyes.

“Are you sure-“

“More than anything in my entire life,” his voice is desperate, pleading as his gaze darts to your core situated practically right beside his head. He takes another deep breath, a shuddering moan escaping him as you scent absolutely overwhelms him. “Please, Petal. I want to make you feel good.”

Your heart positively flutters within your chest, and your movements now seem to almost have an eagerness to them as you situate yourself above him. Immediately, his hands are gripping at your thighs, helping to guide you over his mouth and making sure you’re comfortable all the while. A fact which makes your heart warm at the tenderness he still shows you despite the position you find yourselves in.

Sparing a glance upwards, Yunho meets your gaze. His eyes are dark as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, an eagerness shining within his own as you slowly lower yourself onto his awaiting mouth.

Yunho licks his lips, eyes drinking in your dripping entrance as he pulls you into him. A content hum builds in his chest, rumbling just beneath the surface as he inhales deeply once more.

The first brush of his tongue over your folds has a moan escaping you while his eyes flutter shut in bliss. His grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer as his lids flash open, eyes pure black as a pleased snarl escapes his throat. Without another second of hesitation, he dives back into you.

Shamelessly, his mouth laves over your folds, drinking in every drop of sweet nectar you provide for him, and absolutely adoring how you keen above him. His hands hold you steady, your thighs shaking around his head as he caresses your entire pussy with his lips, tongue delving greedily between your folds as your essence begins to drip down his chin.

The first flick of his tongue over that sensitive little clit of yours has your whole body jolting, a whine of his name slipping past your lips. The way your one hand comes to tangle itself in his locks, tugging at his roots as he repeats the action lets him know you’re enjoying this almost as much as he is. Only, the fact that you bring your opposite hand up to cover your mouth has a frown pulling at his features.

Immediately, his one arm reaches up, tearing your hand away from your mouth as his sucks you clit between his lips.

Don’t you dare hide your beautiful sounds from me, his voice rumbles out throughout your head, and Yunho can feel you clench around his tongue. I want to hear everything.

The whine of his name he receives in response is like music to his ears.

Slowly, his hands begin to trail up your thighs, fingers digging into the skin of you ass as he pulls you in closer. His eyes flash black at the first curse he hears you moan out, loving the way your hips begin to grind down against his mouth, meeting every movement of his tongue over your wet folds.

That’s it, Petal, he groans, the vibrations sending pleasant shockwaves echoing throughout your core. Just like that. Lose yourself on my tongue.

Your chest heaves, breath coming in ragged pants as you feel yourself clench around nothing once more. You never realized how intense it could be hearing his voice echoing shamelessly throughout your head, tone nothing but a low growl as he laves his mouth over your dripping cunt.

At one particular flick of his tongue over your clit, you’re practically folding in on yourself, a loud moan escaping you.

“Fuck, Yunho,” your voice is airy, breathless as your thighs tighten the slightest bit around his head, “just like that.”

The growl that he lets out is nothing short of pleased as he pulls you in impossibly closer, suckling your clit into his mouth once more, before repeating the same movements which had you keening above him earlier.

So fucking sweet, My Queen, he moans against you, cock twitching as his eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments. Absolutely addicting. I could get drunk on you.

The whine that escapes you strokes his ego like never before, his tongue gliding through your folds as your juices drip down his chin.

So fucking beautiful, his eyes shine with nothing but adoration as he looks up at you, that all too familiar darkness swirling within as he watches you toss your head back in pleasure. He hums as he feels your fingers tighten in his hair. You are perfect in every way, My Queen. So unbelievably perfect, and all mine.

“Yours,” you moan, eyes closing in bliss as nothing but pure ecstasy begins to flood your veins. “Fuck- all yours.”

The snarl that escapes him is nothing short of feral as his grip tightens on your ass. The way your thoughts still echo through his own mind has a pleasure unlike any other flooding his veins, and he can tell just from the way your hips begin to rhythmically grind against his mouth that you’re getting close.

That’s it, My Queen. Let yourself go. His voice is nothing but encouraging the closer and closer you get to your release, feeling him beginning to caress your mind just as tenderly as his lips caress your clit.

The added stimulation has your entire body shaking, that coil winding tighter and tighter within you with each passing second. You lean into him more than you know, and Yunho would not have it any other way.

Your fingers grip onto his hair for dear life as your whole body trembles, the edges of your release creeping even closer.

Go on, Petal, his voice is but a desperate plea as he continues to caress you in every way he knows how. A desperate snarl builds in his chest, needing to see you come undone for him like this. Bloom for me.

Your whole body stills, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. A loud whine of his name escapes your lips, walls rhythmically clenching as your release floods his every sense, Yunho dinking up every last drop you offer him with a pleased growl on his lips.

Slowly, languidly, he laves his tongue over your folds, not wanting to waste anything that you have to offer him as he absolutely revels in everything you. The way you look, chest heaving with his design over your body as you attempt to catch your breath is a sight he knows that he will commit to every memory of his, eyes shining with a deep fondness as he pulls the slightest bit away. Gently, he trails his lips over the skin of your inner thigh, kissing lightly along the sensitive flesh there as you come down from your high.

The way your fingers begin to lightly thread through his hair, a pleased hum escaping you in the next moment has a pride unlike any other swelling in his chest. The added way your legs tremble as you move off of him has a pleased rumble building within his throat once more.

In the blink of an eye, he’s sitting up, pulling you back into his lap as his lips find purchase on your own.

This kiss is much more relaxed, his tongue softly stroking against your own as he allows you to taste yourself on his lips. His hands are back on your thighs, and he can feel the warmth from your chest radiating against his own as he keeps but a hairsbreadth of space between your two bodies. The way he can hear your subtle praises floating through his mind warms his heart like you wouldn’t believe.

Parting from your lips only for a moment, Yunho absolutely adores how you come to rest your forehead against his own.

“I love you,” he breathes, staring deeply into your eyes. Eyes of which he knows are reflecting that same look of care and adoration as his own.

“I love you,” your tone is soft, voice a mere whisper as it tenderly caresses his ears. Your one hand gently moves to cradle the side of his face, a loving smile pulling at your lips. “Now, become one with me, My King.”

Yunho’s eyes flash black once more, his heart thundering beneath the skin of his chest as he claims your lips with his own.

“With pleasure, My Queen,” he hums against your mouth, breath hitching as he feels you take his throbbing cock into your one hand.

Pumping him a few times, you line him up with your entrance, steadying yourself with your free hand on his shoulder. His own grip tightens around your thighs, gaze flitting downwards as he feels your thumb tease over the head of his cock.

You lock eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Still okay?” His voice rumbles out, and you can hear the tender love and care he has for you bleeding through.

Your heart warms, a soft smile painting your features as you nod. “Very okay.”

Again, your thumb strokes teasingly over his slit and he has to bite his lip to suppress his moan.

“Are you okay, Universe?” You turn the question back on him, and this time, it’s Yunho’s chest that swells with that unquestionable warmth as he hears that same tender love and care dripping within your own tone.

“Never better, Petal,” he smiles, eyes crinkling slightly in the corners.

You mirror the expression before placing your lips on his own for the nth time this day.

Slowly, you begin to sink down on his cock, parting only briefly from the kiss as you let out the sweetest of whines. The way he feels stretching you out has your eyes squeezing shut, lips parting as you cling to him for dear life.

Yunho, on the other hand, is faring no better. The way your wall feel, warm and wet, sliding down and enveloping his cock draws a low moan from his lips. He can feel himself twitch within you once he’s fully seated, holding onto you desperately as you clench around him.

“Fuck, My Queen,” Yunho’s head falls forward, forehead resting against yours as he attempts to control his breathing for the time being. “Fits perfectly.”

“Feels so good, My King,” you hum contently, eyes still closed as you clench around him once more. “So full.”

His lips part, another moan tumbling shamelessly from his mouth as your words wash over his very soul.

Another moment passes by like this with the two of you simply holding one another in each other’s arms. Nothing is said, nor does it need to be, as you continue to bask in this tender moment, sharing in this intimacy as one.

“Whenever you are ready, My Queen,” he breathes, fingers digging a little firmer into the skin of your thighs.

You nod, taking a deep breath and feeling your chest rise and fall along with his own.

In the next second, you begin to move.

A low groan escapes his lips as he helps to guide your movements over his cock. The way you clench around him again has his eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness as he takes in every single expression you offer to him. Leaning in, he claims your lips with his own once more.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho begins to trail his hands up your sides, causing a pleasant shiver to caress your spine. Of course, he’s careful not to smudge his designs, but at this point, he doesn’t care. The only thing on his mind is pulling you closer, and making you drown in the pools of his ecstasy that only he can provide for you.

“That’s it, Petal,” his eyes shine as he meets your gaze, thighs twitching beneath you as you continue to move over him. “Just like that.”

“Yunho,” the whimper of his name falling from your lips is like music to his ears.

“So good to me,” he breathes, his one hand caressing along your spine before his fingers are digging into the skin of your back, right over where his name is drawn on you in the ancient tongue. “So perfect and all mine.”

“Yours,” you repeat the word from earlier, nothing more than a breathless moan escaping your lips as you feel the tip of his cock brush up against such a tender spot inside of you. Your breath hitches, walls clenching involuntarily around him as he smiles at you. “And you’re mine.”

“That’s right, My Queen,” his voice edges on a pleased growl as he meets your gaze, pulling your body flush against his own as he leans further back into the couch. “I’m all yours.”

“Fuck, Yunho-“ your eyes flutter shut as his cock brushes up on that special spot inside of you once more. “My King.”

An unabashed moan tumbles from his lips as your voice washes over him, cock twitching inside of you as his grip tightens around your body.

His breathing deepens, gaze dark as he watches you move above him like this. A moment later, his lips are back on your skin: biting, licking, sucking - anything to have you keening against him. He has to see you fall apart again. He has to be the sole reason for your ecstasy once more.

“You’re doing so well for me, My Queen,” his fingers press a little firmer against the skin of your back, your blood mixing with his own against his skin and drowning his senses in everything you.

Picking up your pace, you allow your head to fall forward, succumbing to the pleasure he is providing for you at the moment. Burying your face into the side of his neck, you cling to him for dear life as he continues to guide your movements over his cock, nipping at the skin of your ear.

“That’s it, Petal,” his voice is but a low growl against the skin of your neck. “Lose yourself on me. Lose yourself to the pleasure only I can provide for you.”

His lips are back on your neck, sucking tenderly at the flesh there and feeling your pulse rushing beneath the skin. He smiles.

Your one hand comes to rest over his chest, right over his own mark as you lean the slightest bit away from him. This new angle has you gasping, eyes rolling as you continue to move over his cock. Each stroke along your inner walls makes your head spin, lips parting and brow furrowing.

Slowly, carefully, Yunho reaches down between your two bodies as his thumb begins to flick at your clit. The way your whole body positively jolts, a whine of his name falling from your lips has his eyes flashing black once more.

“That’s it, Petal,” his breathing is ragged as he attempts to hold onto his last bits of shredded sanity for the evening. He has to see you falling apart on top of him - because of him, once more. “Let yourself go. I’m right here.”

Again, he caresses your mind with the tenderest of touches, feeling your thighs begin to shake against his own.

That all too familiar coil begins to wind itself tighter within your lower abdomen, and with each flick of his thumb over your clit, combined with the sinful way his cock fills your tight little hole, you know you won’t last much longer. From the way his growls become more frequent, you can tell that he won’t, either.

“Come on, My Queen,” his words are but a snarl on his lips, gaze locked on where your two bodies meet as he can feel your essence beginning to drip onto the skin of his thighs. “Come for me. Come for Your King.”

Your whole body trembles, the nails of the hand you have resting over the skin of his heart digging into his flesh as your lips part in a silent scream. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clinging onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you for the second time that day.

Not even a moment later, Yunho is following close behind. The way your walls feel spasming around his cock, combined with the way you desperately cling onto him, has a low groan of your name falling from his lips.

He holds you close, bodies pressed firmly against one another as he releases deep inside of your walls. You can feel yourself clenching around him as you attempt to catch your breath, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

Lovingly, his hand strokes along the skin of your spine, tracing the design along your back softly.

“You did so well for me, Petal,” his voice is low, right by your ear as he begins to place tender kisses along your bare shoulder. “So good to me.”

“Yunho,” you curl in closer to him, face buried in his neck as you hum contently. “I love you.”

“I love you, My Queen.” You can feel his entire chest rumble with a pleased hum, his grip tightening ever so subtly around you.

For the next few minutes, neither of you move, both simply content to revel in each other’s embrace. Still, Yunho brushes a tender hand along your back, your breathing syncing with his once more as your hearts continue to beat as one.

“Are you alright, Petal?” His voice pulls you back out of your own thoughts and back to reality as you finally lean away from him for the time being.

A soft smile is sent his way. “More than okay, Universe.”

“Good,” he hums, a smile of his own painting his features. “I’m glad.”

“Are you okay, Yunho?” Once more, you find yourself repeating those same words from earlier in the day.

“Never better, Petal,” he repeats his own words yet again, a large smile taking over his features as he continues to gaze lovingly at you.

A minute later, you reluctantly separate yourself from him, feeling your combined releases dripping down the skin of your thigh as you stand back on shaky feet. Immediately, Yunho is there to steady you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he transports the two of you to a bathroom. One that is unfamiliar to you, but at the way he swiftly draws a bath for the both of you, you know that you must be in his room right now.

Walking over to you, Yunho gently caresses the side of your face with his hand.

“Make yourself comfortable, Petal,” he smiles softly. “I’ll be right back.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s disappeared from in front of you. You hardly get one foot in the tub when he’s reappearing, two glasses of water held in his hand.

The image makes you smile as you sink into the warm water, gladly accepting the glass in the next moment when he offers it to you. In the blink of an eye, he’s sliding into the tub beside you.

Placing the now empty glass to the side, you lean into him, loving the way his one arm automatically wraps itself around your shoulders. The security you feel as he pulls you into his side has your heart swelling in your chest.

Then, your eyes are catching on the intricate swirls still adorning your arms.

“It’s a shame to already be washing such a beautiful design away,” you comment, raising your arm slightly above the water as a slight pout pulls at your lips.

“Don’t worry, Petal, I have plenty more where that came from,” Yunho chuckles, placing a tender kiss onto the side of your temple. “Besides, I will never forget how you looked today, or the meaning behind it. For as long as I live, I will always remember.”

A heat blooms on your cheeks. Grabbing his one hand in your own, you bring the back up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss against it. Slowly, your thumb begins to brush over his skin, resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Your voice is soft, allowing the sound of the trickling water to surround you both as you bask in each other’s presence for the time being.

Yunho hums, pulling your intertwined hands into his lap so that he can run a finger gently over the small scar on your arm. In the blink of an eye, he’s healed the cut, beginning to slowly wash his blood from your skin in the next moment.

You smile, “neither will I.”

986 notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 4 years ago

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke’s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren’s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

#... uh yeah <3 step uncle eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager imagine #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger x reader #aot #fics #tw step cest #tw dubcon

2K notes · View notes