#like hi hello it’s me i’m the only one in this empty room

[svearehnn]

sunlight in burgundy pt.2 | azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel recommends you another book and in return you read with him in the library.

a/n: I didn't mean for it to be this much of a slow burn but here we are lol. Hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t long before you finished the book that Azriel’s shadows had found for you. Another venture outside your room had not happened–rather, you stayed in, afraid to come across someone else, someone new. Madja had made you privy to the knowledge that only three fae lived in the House of Wind, yet, your first adventure within the large castle had proved futile to your desire to stay hidden.

You huffed, turning over in your bed as you pulled the covers up until darkness encased your vision. You didn’t want to leave, but you were bored. There was nothing to do except stare at the dark blue walls and shut the curtains tight when the House opened them. You needed to go get another book or you would go insane. 

With a sigh, you took slow maneuvers out of your bed, shuffling into your slippers that were far more exquisite than anything you had ever owned before. You pulled a cream-colored sweater on over your head and a pair of leggings that held tight to your legs before you opened the door a crack with taut lungs. Your eyes flitted this way and that, ears straining for any presence of another, but you came up empty. With that comforting knowledge, you stepped out of your safe place and hid in the shadows when you could as you made your way back to the library.

The mahogany doors greeted you with the same menacing smile, causing a knot to form in your throat. You gulp it down and, with shaking hands, push the doors open. A crackling fire greets you rather than the chilled breeze, filling the room with a fond comfort. You take in the familiar walls of books, the floor to ceiling windows, and the luxurious furniture that held the same shadowed figure as last time. His hazel eyes were on you, a soft smile gracing his features, casting him in a heavenly glow that you were afraid you imagined. 

“Hello,” he greeted, reining in his shadows as they began to float toward you with intrigue. You took a step towards him, eyes downcast yet nervously meeting his every couple of seconds.

“Hi.” You answered, fingers twiddling with rings behind your back as you tried to keep your nerves under wraps.

“Did you come back for another book?” You nodded, another step forward as though your feet were acting without your brain’s permission.

“I enjoyed the one you gave me.” You muttered, voice softer than the crack and pop of wood beneath orange flames. Azriel’s smile widened at that, his shadows seeming to dance around him.

“I’m glad to hear that. Would you like another recommendation?” You met his eyes again with another nod, breath held as you finally took notice of the male through the veil of fear that rattled your bones. He was rather lovely with his tanned skin and sparkling eyes, the freckles adorning his nose and cheeks giving him a charming glean. His features were sharp and defined, lips falling in a natural pout with a defined cupid’s bow. Azriel was gorgeous, far more so than the other fae males that you had met.

“You still there?” You blinked and pulled yourself out of your thoughts and back into the present conversation. His lips were still stretched in that gentle smile, his thumb once again marking a page in his book. Heat bloomed in your cheeks as you nodded.

“Sorry,” you murmured sheepishly, glancing down and then back at him, sensing a tad bit of amusement coming from those gleaming eyes of his.

“I asked if you had any preferences.” Azriel stated, his voice a lulling purr that calmed your racing heart. 

“Um…” After a moment of contemplation, you shook your head, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Sorry, I don’t know. I liked the last one.”

He chuckled and slowly stood, stretching his wings with a shake. “You have nothing to apologize for. I think I have one in mind for you.” A shadow flew to his ear before roaming down the shelves, multiple others trailing after it. He took a tentative step toward you and you didn’t back away even though your mind was screaming at you to run. Something in your chest was blooming–it was warm and bright and it wanted you to stay. So you would listen, for now. At least, until flight overcame the newfound strength that had begun to fill you.

“How has your stay in Velaris been so far?” He asked, a hand snaking through his dark locks and mussing them up even further. You let out a slow breath, eyes locked on his mesmerizing ones.

“It’s been alright. I haven’t left my room much.” Azriel nodded and took another miniscule step, one that you barely noticed.

“You should come have breakfast with Nesta, Cassian, and I tomorrow. I can promise you that they are both great fae. Nesta’s a bit sharp around the edges, but once you break down her walls she’s a rather good friend.” A hum buzzed from your lips, mind lost in thought as you weighed the pros and cons. His shadows came back then with a leather bound book in hand, their wisps darkening the hallway of shelves for a split second before reaching their master’s side. He was close enough now that his shadows washed over you, cooling your clammy skin as a few began to traipse along it. 

“Sorry about them,” Azriel muttered as he scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of red. “They’re curious about you.” Shadows slithered up your legs and arms, the sensation similar to being submerged in water. You smiled softly as you admired them.

“It’s alright.” He took the book from his remaining shadows and handed it to you, his gloved fingers grazing yours for a split second before he dropped them down to his side. You ran your fingertips down the spine of the burgundy book, feeling the softness of the worn down leather as if the spine had been cracked a hundred times.

“Through the Wilderness,” Azriel blurted out, startling you for a moment. “The title. Through the Wilderness.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fiction about wolf pups surviving after their mother is shot and killed with an arrow. It’s quite good.” You nodded, lips pressed tight as you noticed a swirling in his eyes that resembled the darkness of his shadows. Pain of some sort, you could tell.

“Thank you.” His shadows floated back to him as he smiled, that look in his eyes gone with only two words. You clutched the book in your hands and held it to your chest, glancing to the doors behind you before focusing back on him, knowing your safety was beyond those doors. Yet, this male that you had met only once before was beginning to resemble those satin sheets and velvet curtains that you coveted so much.

“If you want to stay here and read, you are more than welcome to. I can step out so you’re comfortable.” It was as though he were talking to one of the frightened wolf pups in the book with his head bowed and his voice softened. Your eyes widened, taking in his words with a lick of anxiety.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to kick you out.” 

“I don’t mind–”

“What if we read together?” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them and you winced. You didn’t know where this was coming from. A week ago you were scared of this male, and now you were asking to read with him? You were starting to think you were losing your mind from locking yourself away in that room for so long.

“I would be happy to, as long as you’re okay with that.” You nodded hesitantly and swallowed the knot that had formed in your throat. Azriel smiled and took back over his assumed position on the couch. He opened his book without another word and began reading, his eyes roving over the words thoughtfully and swiftly. You observed him for a moment, noting his subtle movements like the way he flipped the pages with just his thumb, or the way he would gently blow that one lock of hair that kept slipping into his view. 

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath before timidly advancing to the couch, taking a seat on the side farthest away from him. Azriel didn’t comment on it; he continued to read, his shadows looming over his shoulders as if they were studying the page too. A shaky sigh left your lips, and you pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and opening the book. There you immersed yourself in the book, surrounded by the fire crackling within the hearth, the winter sun hidden beneath light gray clouds, and the scent of mist and cedar.

[presleyhearted]

Plot Twist! | a One Shot

pairing: 70s!elvis x female reader

genre: humor, angst, fluff.

summary: After ranting to your best friend about the most cruel break up of your life, you fall asleep. You awaken in the presence of 1970s Elvis Presley himself. You vent out to him about your messed up love life, because well, this must be a dream anyways. He can't actually be real, right? Right?!

word count: 5.3k

author's note: Hello darlings! It's been a while. This year has been one of the hardest years of my life, and so it was hard to come back to writing. But this concept has been in my head for a while. I thought it might be an interesting, sorta lighthearted fun concept. I hope you enjoy it! please comment. all feedback is appreciated. I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors, I wrote this out quite fast <3

warnings: cussing, a cruel breakup, tears.

“I’m like the main fucking character to a romcom, except there is no good guy!” You laughed humorlessly, taking a spoonful from the tub of strawberry ice cream in your hand. 

Your best friend looks at you with sympathy. You should apologize for bursting through her apartment a mere twenty minutes ago. But your best friend being who she is, knowing you since you guys were practically in diapers, knows that there has to be something major going on. There has to be a reason. And she was right, it only took her simply asking you ‘What happened?’ that made you burst into a puddle of tears and your knees give out on her carpeted living room floor. 

Your boyfriend of two years broke up with you - over text. And not only that, he also took back the necklace that he got you as an anniversary gift. It should’ve been a blissful Saturday morning. But waking up in your bed and finding the spot empty next to you, to then receiving a text from him. Starting the cliche line of ‘it’s me, not you.’ and ending it with ‘It was a bet. I’m sorry.’ To then a follow-up text of how he took off the necklace around your neck, with no sense of remorse whatsoever. 

The realization of it all didn’t hit you all at once. First, it was a wave of shock. Eventually, that shock was like the key to unlocking a myriad of emotions that felt like life had slapped you right in the face. It is crazy how much a heartbroken heart can render you physically drained. You didn’t even know how you managed to drive to your best friend’s house. You were moving, but you didn’t feel anything of what was happening was real. 

And so here you are, tears practically painting your face as your best friend consoles you for what you think must be the hundredth time.  

“That asshole! I’m gonna throw hands, I swear Y/N.” Your best friend said, face in a fit of anger once you spilled the entire story to her. 

“I am such an idiot!” You sobbed, grabbing a tissue from the box beside you. You could barely taste the flavor of the ice cream anymore. It feels as though all the energy has been drained out of you. 

You were in no condition to drive home, so your best friend set up the guest bedroom which you were so grateful for. Even speaking seemed like such a task. You set your phone down on the nightstand, as you lied down on the bed with the covers over your body. Unfortunately, you feel that your mind won’t stay quiet. Sighing in frustration, you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and shuffled your ‘calming music’ playlist. 

It appears to be proven effective, as the voice of Elvis Presley lulls you into the land of dreams. 

“E, I don’t-”

“I got this, Jerry. Go.”

Voices lead you to stir awake and when you do, you are wide awake. 

Because who wouldn’t when the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll himself is staring at you? 

You let out a giggle, “Okay, hi, Elvis.” 

This dream is a product of your exhausted and heartbroken brain. Really, you had nothing to complain about. It is a blissful dream to escape from the nightmare of your reality. 

Elvis is amused. Well, he was also confused. But amusement seemed to triumph over his emotions. He just finished his second show of the night, and usually, he would invite some people back to his suite to hang around for a while. But tonight, he didn’t have the energy to do so. Walking back to his suite with Red and Jerry beside him, they didn’t expect to find a woman right in front of his hotel room door. Eyes closed. Your chest was rising and falling. Alive. So they concluded that you were in a deep sleep. Now, Elvis has come across all sorts of encounters with fans, he is not immune to being surprised every now and again. But this was definitely not a familiar situation for him. He saw your face - your cheeks appeared to be stained with tears. Elvis’ heart ached at the sight. You were beautiful and just. . . sad. There was no other way to word it. 

Elvis was not the most reasonable person in the world. But he doesn’t why, or how, but he has this gut instinct that you were perfectly harmless. That you needed saving. He can’t just shake you awake and tell you to run off. He’s not that kind of guy. 

Red and Jerry approached and were about to ask him if they should be calling security. But Elvis shook his head and told them to stay quiet about this and to not tell anyone a word. Red and Jerry shared a look and warned Elvis that he did not know you. That you might be ‘a crazy fan.’ They were just doing their job after all. But Elvis was determined and carried you into his suite. Red walks off and Jerry, being brave enough, tries to reason with him again - but Elvis does not sway his choice. With a sigh, Jerry walked off and closed the door. 

Elvis placed you gently on his bed and whilst in the midst of taking off your shoes, he felt your body move. You were waking up. He just hoped that he would have a chance to defend himself, hoped that he doesn’t scare you. Fan or not, he knows that any logical person would be terrified waking up on the bed of a man that they don’t personally know. But he wouldn’t hurt you. Once he makes sure that you are okay, and in good condition, he has no objection to you going on your way. 

Which leads you to this moment. With him staring down at you, his eyes meeting yours for the very first time. His head tilts to the side once he hears you giggle and hear your voice, his lips pulling into an amused smile. Oh, so you are a fan. 

But then he doesn’t fail to notice the puffiness of your eyes, the cruel gift of a woman who has cried her heart out. Elvis’ eyebrows furrow in concern and he tuck a loose strand of hair behind your head, softly asking, “What’s your name, honey?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, do you remember what happened?”

“Unfortunately. I mean, my heart still feels it. Or whatever is left of it, I guess. I must be terribly heartbroken to have you show up in my dreams like this. It’s like someone took a knife and pierced it right through my heart and twisted it. It was probably my own fault, really. I was the one who fell first. Scratch that, I was the only one who fell. Since, you know, the whole thing was a bet.” You tried to laugh as if it was the funniest joke in the room. But it ended up sounding more like something between a pained cry and a forceful attempt to be comedic about a devastating situation. 

Elvis was confused. It was obvious that you were incredibly unhappy about something, but your sentences were going by like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t keep up. 

You sat up and looked at your surroundings, “Is this your room? Like your hotel room?” You asked all of a sudden. 

Elvis was a little thrown aback by your question, as he was still in the process of trying to make sense of what you were saying. He nodded, “Yeah, how-“

You flung the covers off your body and walked slowly, taking in your surroundings. He went from kneeling beside the bed to standing up and observing you. He was prepared to catch you,  having a feeling that your knees might give out all of a sudden. You were in a fragile state and he couldn’t help but feel an immense protectiveness over you. 

“Hmm. So this is what my brain with broken heart conjure up as Elvis Presley’s hotel room.” You find yourself rushing over to the floor-to-ceiling wide window, “Gosh, even Las Vegas looks so detailed. I must be some kinda designer when my life is falling apart. Huh.” 

“You an architect, honey?” Elvis scratched the back of his neck,  still insanely confused as the minutes go by. 

You giggled, “No. But my mind seems to be.” You winked at him. 

He chuckled at your quick switch in the mood. 

You then wander away from the window and practically run over to him, his eyes widen, thinking that you are going to jump onto him. You merely giggled at his reaction. Once you stood right in front of him, inches away from his face, you tilted your head and said, “You are so tall. Sit.” Before he could have a chance to utter any response, you placed your hands on his shoulders pushing him to sit down on the bed. 

“Okay, honey, calm down.” He chuckled at your forwardness, putting his hands up in defense. 

“Oh my gosh, you even sound exactly like him!” You exclaimed happily, clapping your hands. 

“Like who?” 

“Like Elvis, you silly goose!” You rolled your eyes playfully, “My mind is not much sometimes. But sometimes, it does its thing. And this is one of those.” 

Elvis let out a loud laugh, unable to resist it. His head was thrown back, a kinda laugh that echoed off the walls. 

“Darlin’, you just made my night.” 

“Hmm, what shall I call you then? Whilst this therapeutic dream lasts. Oh! Maybe. . . dream Elvis? Mind Elvis? I mean, I know time is not really a thing in dreams. So, I don’t really know how long it lasts. But, I mean, I guess my subconscious mind knows me too much - the only way to heal from being heartbroken is by designing Elvis, who is literally the love of my life - in such good detail. I ain’t complaining, but I am just in awe. Oh, I do love my mind sometimes.” You sighed dreamily, cupping his cheeks in your hands. 

Then it clicked. It clicked in Elvis’ mind. You thought that you were dreaming. That this is a dream. You were heartbroken over someone, and thus, thought that you were dreaming this all up. It explained a whole lot. Your switch in emotions, your mood switches. All a product of broken heart. Heck, he couldn’t even find any reasonable excuse for why someone would break your heart. It was incomprehensible to him. You are beautiful and had such a unique character, something captivating. Who would dare shatter such a precious being? Elvis thought. 

“Gosh, you are insanely good-looking.” You said, hands still cupping his cheeks. Elvis didn’t make the move to remove your hands from him. Instead, he rather found your touch comforting in a way. There was that gentleness in it. 

“I mean, the resemblance is uncanny.” You removed your hands from his face, an action that let him sigh in dismay. 

Elvis couldn’t take it anymore. No matter how cute you were being. He had to correct you. He was prepared for the realization that would ensue - the chaos of it all. 

“This is no dream, honey.” Elvis shook his head, smiling kindly at you. Trying to gauge your reaction to the words he just let out. 

You simply giggled. “Yeah, right.”

You didn’t believe him. Heck, you really thought you were in the land of dreams. 

“You don’t believe me, sweetheart?” He bit his bottom lip, curiously looking at you. 

“I know you are trying to trick me, mind of mine. But I am not that heartbroken. Not too heartbroken to believe that you brought Elvis back. So, no, you can’t be real. Elvis is gone. You are a product of my imagination. “ You sighed, with a sad smile on your lips as tears started to pool in your eyes again. 

Elvis freezes at your words. Sure, he has met so many fans over the years since his fame catapulted in the world. Met some pretty interesting characters and heard all sorts of crazy stories. But this? With that expression on your face and that sheer pain in your voice, once you said those words - believing that he was gone off the face of the earth? No, Elvis has not encountered this. Not ever. 

“Nothin’ like that, darlin.’ I’m right ‘ere with ya, ain’t I?” His thumb strokes away a tear that rolled down your cheeks, as his hands find yours. His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand. 

You nodded, “Can I- , can I hug you?” A blush crept into your cheeks, a shy side to you showing itself. 

“Of course, c’mere.” He opens his arms wide, which you gladly accept and practically sink into his arms. It was comforting and strong.

Your heard was buried in the crook of his neck, and you noticed sweat glistening on his neck and hair. 

You hummed, “So soft. Almost like the real one.” 

You still believed he was your imagination. Elvis sighed. He knows that the hug was supposed to be a comfort for you since you requested it. But he felt he needed it as much you did, if not more. He felt your hands comb through his hair, still sticking to his skin from the performance he just finished. 

“Even the sweat. You must’ve just finished a show, hm?” You asked, finding yourself playing along with this dreamland. This dream scenario that your brain put together, a temporary break from your reality. Might as well play into it. 

Elvis found himself growing hot in embarrassment, “I-uh, yeah, s-sorry, honey. I didn’t get a chance to change when I found ya.” 

You put your head up to look him in the eye, “I don’t care. It’s sexy.” 

Elvis raised his eyebrow in disbelief at your comment and looked away with a blush creeping up his cheeks. You were proving to be the most fascinating person he has ever met as minute by minute goes by. 

“Oh, uh, actually honey - lemme change.” 

You nodded, untangling yourself from him and getting up from his lap. Yep, you didn’t realize you were on his lap when you pulled yourself in for a hug. 

“Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere.” He said, before disappearing into the bathroom of the suite. You found yourself wandering around the room again, inspecting the entire setup. The telephone is hooked onto the wall. The TV screen. Some books piled in the corner. To name a few things. 

Elvis quickly returns and is now changed into a simple pair of blue silk pajamas. It suits him, you think. Seeing him look so relaxed and comfortable. And just like that, Elvis lies back down on the bed and proceeds to ask what you were heartbroken about. You giggled at the scenario. Other people have diaries they rant to or speak to themselves while they drive. But you? You have Elvis Presley - well, your imagination’s Elvis - lying down gazing at you like you are the most important person in the world. And the thing is, he really did listen. Responding every now and again and nodding his head or shaking his head. Even the switch in his facial expressions - from disbelief to pure anger as the story of your relationship with Carl unraveled. He listened to, you so intently, as if you held the secrets of the universe. You were pacing back and forth as you told the story. He saw you walk through the thousand emotions - pain, regret. Frustration, and last but not least - anger. All throughout this, yes Elvis listened to you and offered his comments, but he couldn’t help but find himself completely enamored by you. Your hair was down and it flip back and forth as you paced, your eyes so striking and expressive. Impossible not to be entranced. You were beautiful and even from your state of emotional hurt, the way you articulated your words - sure, it was frantic, but it was intelligence-coated. He loved hearing you talk. 

Eventually, Elvis asked if you were hungry. In the blink of an eye, there was knock on the door and two soda cans and two hamburgers were delivered. You sat across from him on the bed, letting out a moan as you took a bite out of the burger. A sound that Elvis found himself wanting to replay. 

“Heartbreak is so fuckin’ exhausting, thanks for the food.” You said after you both finished eating and were sat next to one another with your backs against the headboard. 

“Say, never heard a woman cuss as much as ya!” 

You grinned at his reaction and shrugged, unbothered. 

“Hey! This is my dream, so just go with it, Presley.” You pouted at him. 

Elvis cannot help but find the action adorable, and shake his head at your belief that this is still all a dream. 

“I’m gonna need you to repeat somethin’, honey,” Elvis said eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you in college?” He asked. 

“No, why do you ask?”

He seemed even more confused at your response, “ Just ‘cus you said this guy called it quits over textbook? I can’t make no sense of it, sweetheart.”

You cannot help but burst out into laughter at his question. My god, your imagination of Elvis, is proving to be insanely detailed. Like even with questions like this, as if you were actually in the 1970s. The years when texting was not a thing. Of course, he would be confused. But unbeknownst to you, this was not a dream and you were in fact actually in the 1970s and it was in fact THE actual Elvis Presley asking you this very question. 

“Well, in 2024, you know - the future - there is a thing called a text message. Hold on! My phone must be here somewhere, I can better explain it to you that way.” You shot up from your sitting position, and look around the room. With luck, you find your phone on the carpeted floor underneath the bed. 

“Aha! Found it.”

You hold it up and return to your position beside Elvis, with your back against the headboard. 

“The hell is that small brick doin’ under my bed?” His blue eyes were wide, looking at you like you’ve gone mad. 

You chuckled, “Elvis, no. it’s my phone.” 

He narrowed his eyes at you and pointed at the telephone hooked onto his wall just next to the TV, “Nah, honey, that over there is a phone.” 

You shook his head, “Look, I’ll show you. “ You tap it and the lock screen lights up, with the photo of Elvis from the ‘68 Comeback Special as your lock screen. You type in your passcode and unlock your phone. You spend the next ten minutes going through the various apps on your phone, and then lastly, your text messages - actually in disbelief yourself on how your dream is so clear. Then you showed him your contact list and the fact that you can call without the phone being connected to a cord. 

Elvis was in pure amazement and disbelief. Like a child opening their Christmas gift. You really are different because heck, you are from the future! There is no way.

He had your phone in his hand as he read through the break-up text sent by your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend. 

“That damn son of a bitch,” Elvis muttered under his breath, which you caught on very clearly.

Elvis kept his control, he was so close to throwing your phone at the wall after reading that cruel text message from your ex. He couldn’t believe that someone could say such cruel words, how could he say this to you? So sweet, kind, and beautiful? It made no sense to him, and if he was right in front of Elvis now, he wouldn’t have any chance, for Elvis really would’ve punched him square in the face. No excuses. 

You shrugged, seemingly numb to it all now, you ran through all the emotions so many times now. Now, nothing is left. Exhaustion yes and a sense of relief. 

You take the phone away from him and shuffle your playlist on Apple Music before playing the phone on the nightstand. Elvis is not surprised when it’s his voice that floats through your phone, for you showed him Apple Music and explained it to him. 

“He’s all in the past now, “ You sighed, “It’s my fault. I was such an idiot.” You were lying down on the bed now. Eyes closed as your hand was covering your eyes. 

“Honey, no, none of that. “ He wraps his hand around your arm, to stop you from hiding. 

“He did you wrong. Not you. “  Elvis said softly, you opened your eyes to look at him. You found him now lying down as well, his body facing yours. You turned to face him. 

Before you could register your actions, you lifted your hands up and felt your fingers traced over his facial features. First his eyebrows, nose, cheeks, and lips. Elvis found himself sighing and closing his eyes to your touch. 

“You were too precious for the world, Elvis. I hate how it all happened to you the way it did, you deserved better. So much better.” You said, voice quieter now, and there was that look in your eyes again - sadness for him. 

You spoke in the past tense, that was something that Elvis caught on very quickly. 

He chuckled, trying to break out of being serious, “I’m still here, honey.” 

You nodded, “Sure.”

Your response unsettled him. He shook his head and decided to change the topic of conversation, “How’d you become a fan of mine? 2024 sounds far from here. . .  people remember me? ” He asked.

You smiled and Elvis felt like giving you anything and everything right there. Anything you want. A simple smile and he was a goner. 

“Of course, you are remembered. People still love you and celebrate you. How did I become your fan? Well, I listened to your music since I was a kid and it was a comfort for me. Still is. I found you so true, sincere, and unlike anyone else. You are quite easy to love, Elvis.” You said, voice so soft. Elvis felt a blush creep up his cheeks at your statement.

“Y-You beli- believe that, darlin’?” He stuttered, a glimpse of that shy boy inside of him pouring out. 

“I do.” 

You chuckled all of a sudden, “I actually believed that I would somehow marry you. Well, before I found out that no such thing was possible. You were gone way before my time. When I started learning more about you. Through the books and some documentaries, I think that was when I felt my heart shatter for the first time. You were my first heart break, Elvis.” You sighed deeply. A sad smile across your lips, and those tears pooling in your eyes again but you managed to blink back the tears.

Elvis felt his heart ache at the sight before him, he took your hands in his and gently caressed it. 

“Why?”

You shook your head, “You didn’t deserve any of it. You had all these people around you, but I felt none of them really tried to pull you out of it all. Your heart is so pure and you just wanted to make people happy. But what about you? Who is looking out for you, asking you, and making sure that you are okay? And the Colonel being who he is. That sad excuse for a human being. It infuriated me. He used you. Treated you like an object. I thought, if I was alive in your time, of course, I would love to see you perform as much as the next fan does. But first and foremost, you are a human being before you are an entertainer. It’s okay to step out of it for a while and prioritize yourself first. You belong to no one but yourself. Only yourself. You had so much passion, so much potential, so much life left to live. You should’ve done what you wanted. Not what anyone else said. Should���ve made the movies you wanted. Toured the world like you did, but of course, the Colonel didn’t want you traveling abroad, because he wouldn’t step foot back into the US. I, just, I was so angry and sad once I found out about the entire thing. You are Elvis Presley, but, sometimes you can take the mask off, you know? Just be the you before the world defined who you should be.” You finished speaking, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden for speaking so much.

Your gaze met his and tears were running down his cheeks. He was biting his bottom lip, as he shook his head. The more words came out of your mouth, the more he couldn’t help but squeeze your hand tighter. There was passion and honesty in your voice, there was no denying it. He has encountered fans, but he never encountered someone who practically urged him to step away from his image if he wanted to. Who wanted him to do what he wanted, regardless of what anyone thought. Who wanted him to feel okay. Who cares about his well-being. 

Who saw behind it all?  Behind the image. You, who validated his emotions, and saw that being grateful and being tired can co-exist. 

You saw the humanity in him. 

The long silence made you believe that you said far too much, and so you began to profusely apologise, “I’m sorry. I sa-”

“Darlin’, please, can I kiss you?” He interrupts, and your eyes widen. 

You nodded, words unable to be formed. His lips are so soft once they meet yours, and the kiss was not rushed or blazing with hunger. It was sweet and gentle and the tears that were rolling down his cheeks were melding into the kiss. He has never come across anyone like you before. He broke up apart from the kiss and before you could say anything, he buried his face in your neck - his body practically on top of you. You wrapped one arm around his and the other was gently brushing through his hair. 

“No one. . . no one ever asked me. “ He said, his voice choked up in a sob, “Only cared about Elvis the entertainer. Not me. Never had someone care ‘bout me this much. I-” He broke into sobs, body shaking, “It gets lonesome.”

His arms wrapped themselves around your body, holding you tighter and tighter. The position and the warmth of his body and his emotional state - you sighed deeply and did not make any move to break away. This dream appears to be proving to be healing to you and this imaginary Elvis. So much so, that it almost doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. 

You remove your hand from his hair and Elvis’ head turns to you, feeling the sudden lost of contact. 

“Honey, whatchu doing?” 

You pinch yourself. First your arm and then your waist. It’s the number one go-to so you can tell if you are dreaming or not. 

“I’m still here,” You whispered in disbelief, your eyes searched for a clock in the room. That’s the next thing that people do. In dreams, the time on the clock does not exist. You will not be able to read the time, at least that’s what the internet says. You find a clock hanging right above the TV. It reads the time : 4:05AM. You read it perfectly. 

Your heart speeds up crazily. Suddenly, it all adds up but you cannot bring yourself to believe how it can all be real. There is no way. 

“But that’s impossible,” You mutter to yourself in shock. 

Elvis hears you, “Somethin’ wrong, Y/N?”

“No, no. I-I was just. . . . this is real, isn’t it?” You sighed, “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Elvis, even with eyes puffy from crying, found himself chuckling. He smirked, “Give me ya hand.”

He takes your hand in his, unbuttons the first button of his pajama top, and places your hand right on top of his chest. Where his heart is. You can feel his heartbeat through the palm of your hand and feel yourself breathing even more deeply now. 

“Feel that?” 

You nodded, “Oh, shit. Holy shit! I rambled so much on how much I love you and you are actually YOU! Oh, the universe must hate me. I made an absolute fool of myself in front of my crush. This is so so embarrassing. I-I’m so sorry, Mr Presley. Forgot me. I-I’ll go now, I’ll find a way to get home. This was NOT the plot twist that I saw happening at all.” You gently removed him from you to sit up, your heart hammering so fast. 

Elvis did not like the lost of contact at all. Did not like you distancing yourself all of a sudden. You were adorably embarrassed, but the mention of you leaving was the red alert in his brain. No, he can’t allow you to leave him. No. He quickly grabbed hold of your hands, “Honey, breathe. Please, breathe. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He said softly, but voice firm. 

“I- Mr Presley, you must understand. I don’t know how and why this happened. But please, you can go back to your life, before I came crashing it-”

“Thank God you crashed it, sweetheart.” His words made you freeze. 

“I wasn’t meant to. I’m literally messing up the past, this is dangerous. I have to go.” 

“Okay, I’ll go with ya.” Elvis said as if it was the most natural and simple thing in the world to do. 

You shook your head, “You can’t, you belong in your time. Here.” You sighed. 

“Then stay. Please, honey. “ He pleads. 

“If i stay, I’ll be making more of a mess-”

“On who’s rules?”

“I-”

“You ain’t messing anythin’, sweetheart. You. . .  you are doing me the opposite.” He said softly, bring your hand to his lips and planting a kiss. 

“Mr Presley-”

“None of that, Y/N. You been callin’ me Elvis this whole time. “ He raised an eyebrow at you. 

You groaned in frustration, “Before I found out that you were real! I openly said I wanted to marry you. This wins as the most embarrassing and most reckless moment of my entire life. I swear.” 

Elvis smirked, “You are so cute, honey.” 

“Elvis-”

“Stay with me. I need you, please.” 

You look at him and his beautiful blue eyes staring at you in hope and apprehension at your response, “Stop doing that!”

His lopsided grin appears, “Doin’ what?”

“That look! Your eyes!”

Elvis sighed dramatically, “I’m not doin’ nothin’, honey.”

Practically puppy dog eyes. 

You sighed. He isn’t taking no for an answer. You basically already broke like several rules of time travel. There is no going back now. 

You think for a moment. There are a hundred reasons why this is a bad idea. You don’t need to be a scientist to know that going back in time and changing the course of events will change the future. It’s just logical. And Elvis? He was one, if not the most, central figure in American history. But, the fan in you, the one who would sometimes to be wishfully thinking that you could go back in time and save him. This is it. You didn’t think that the universe would actually play this move on you. So, with that in mind, you breathed and let out your response. 

“Okay, I’ll stay with you.”

Elvis breaks out into a smile of relief. 

This is THE plot twist of your life.  

[gregmarriage]

in may, it’ll be two years since succ ended, and i can’t ever even imagine leaving it behind

[snowballseal]

Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your  state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days. 

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d***  bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.” 

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization. 

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

[sooniebby]

hello, if you still take requests, please hear me out

reader is roommates with a guy. a rather hot guy, to be honest

reader is in denial whenever someone asks if he's attracted to his roommate, but it's obvious he is, he can't take his eyes off him... taking quick looks at his crotch...

anyways, unfortunately the room only has one bed, in which they sleep on together. normally, they sleep each on each side of the bed, but tonight, roommate hugs reader from behind, sleeping spooning

reader won't admit, but he's sooo horny. he just lowers his hand and starts jerking off right there and then, careful not to wake roommate up

little does he know his roommate was just pretending to be asleep and is well sure of what he's doing. now, roommate will show reader what he's made of

would you mind writing something like this?

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

W.C › 9.2k

Warnings › this is a random oc. Bottom male reader!!! Changed a few parts of the plot and added kinks since there wasn’t any. Get ready for me using song lyrics, just for a little bit. Anything not translated will be translated at the ending notes. if I have any Korean wrong correct me! I appreciate feedback, I’m not fluent!

Kinks › dubcon, lite somnophilia, dom/sub, manhandling, predator/prey, size difference, blood, possessiveness, dacryphilia

Words to know › 자기야 (jagiya/jagi) means “baby/sweetie”. 선배 (seonbae) title for someone older in school/work. 형 (hyung/hyeong) name for older male from a younger male. 아/야 (a/ya) showing closeness to someone. 동생 (Dongsaeng) little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ 김진우 ❞

Those words were practically all that you heard these days. You know, when you originally came to this university, you had big plans. Plans to date as much as possible. Finally lose your virginity!

But they’re nothing important compared to who you unfortunately got paired to dorm with.

Kim Jinu.

A third year at your university. You felt bitter, to say the least. Of course you would have to unlucky chance of being paired with an upperclassman than another freshman. Gah, you wanted to cry.

Anyone that came up to you was always asking about Mister Kim Jinu! What about you?! You were handsome too!

Well, you were a potato next to Jinu.

The Korean beauty standards just had to pick favorites.

A slow soft sigh left your lips as you stared at your empty screen in front of you. Your fingers twiddled with your pen before you leaned over and pressed it against the screen, attempting to finish the outline of your sketch. You were an art major, dreaming of being an animator or even a comic book artist.

Much to your parents dismay. You haven’t had your mother’s signature kimchi in almost two months now due to your choice. But you tried not to dwell on it! You wanted to be happy.

And if being a starving artist is the only way, so be it!

Speaking of starving….

Your stomach growled as you whined and tossed the pen onto the desk, lying back in your chair as you swirled around. You’d have better luck being a Kpop idol at this point. Maybe it’s not too late. Who doesn’t like a filler member?

You glance in the small circle mirror resting on your desk and probe at your cheeks. Plastic surgery isn’t too much, right? Maybe a slimmer nose? Double eyelids?

“(Name) Oppa..? What are you doing?”

A shriek left your lips as you looked back at Cho Yoona, your classmate. A tight smile pulled on your lips as you took the iced coffee she had in her hands.

“Nothing, nothing. Oppa is just having a mental breakdown.” You said, quickly taking a sip of your coffee to gain some energy back.

Yoona grabbed a chair and pulled it close to your desk, sitting down next to you. “Hm. What are you doing now?”

“Ah? Well, the theme was something out of our comfort zone, so I was trying to create… uh… nude portraits..”

“Huh? Nude? Will Professor Lee Hyunki approve that?”

You shrugged, placing the coffee down onto the desk. “I have a backup plan. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him anyway.” A groan left your throat as you saved your draft before shutting off your computer. “Anyway, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

As you and Yoona packed up, she suddenly looked over to you with a big smirk.

“Oppa… are you… close to Kim Jinu Seonbae?” She asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“No.” You quickly said, rolling your eyes. “We’re just roommates. Not close at all.”

“Oh.” She muttered, pouting. “You’re lucky, Oppa. You get to be so close to Jinu Seonbae. Isn’t he handsome up close?” She squealed, clutching her notebook tight against her chest. “I’d die if I get to see him right after he takes a shower!!!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” You muttered, playfully flicking her forehead. The two of you left the classroom, turning off the lights and closing the door.

Once Yoona went her own separate way to her own dorms, you couldn’t help but think about what she said. Jinu… in just a towel..?

You heaved as you accidentally swallowed your coffee a bit too fast, pounding at your chest once you finally reached your dorm. Your hands fiddle with your keys while you fight off the harsh coughing burning at your chest. The door swings open as you struggle inside, slamming the door behind you.

Tossing your bag onto your side of the room, you make a beeline for the mini fridge and pull out a water bottle, downing it in seconds. As the cool refreshment calmed the coughing beast within you, you suddenly realized you weren’t holding your coffee anymore.

Your eyes trailed down to see it lying spilled on the floor not too far from your feet.

And unfortunately, it spilled right on a stake of papers near Jinu’s backpack. A shrill girlish scream right of a horror movie leaves your throat as you collapse to your knees and pick up the coffee cup, seeing the damage.

Your fingers felt numb as they slowly peeled the notebook open, seeing the pages stuck together like glue. The once white sheets dark in black, ice cubes coating it like sprinkles. Holy fuck.

Fuck fuck.

Jinu was going to kill you!

With the coffee coating the paper, you could hardly read what was written in it. But judging from the top cover, it looked to be a study guide or something.

Your eyes squinted as you tried to read what you could in hopes of gaging just how bad you fucked up. The words that you could only read were: “바보…토끼…자기…”

What the fuck?

Idiot, rabbit, babe?

What the hell was Jinu writing about?

Jinu was a business major. You couldn’t recall him taking any classes dealing with animals. Maybe it was a code word? Well, all that mattered was that it didn’t seem too important so you quickly grabbed the notebook. Drying it with a hair dryer seemed like your safest bet.

The room door opened, catching your attention as you shoved the notebook behind your back. There stood Jinu, obviously waving bye to someone before finally looking into the room. His eyes zoned in on you, face just frozen for a solid second.

You panicked, thinking that he could possibly see the notebook behind your back. Not the fact you were on your knees, staring up at him with wide cute eyes, and plump lips pulled into a slight pout. Especially with your sweater that was large and baggy, something you preferred, with one of the sleeves down—showing your bare shoulders.

Why would you wear tanks underneath the sweater? The buildings here aren’t that cold.

“Jinu Seonbae..!” You whisper, giggling nervously as you pressed the notebook tight against your back, taking a peek to make sure it didn’t stick out. “How.. was your day?”

Jinu blinked. Once, twice, before a large grin pulled onto his face and his eyes practically closed into those crescent moons girls swooned about. Whatever he was thinking about was long gone.

“I thought I told you to call me hyung, (Name). We’re going to be roommates for a while anyway.” Jinu said, closing the door behind him as he slipped off his shoes and put away his jacket.

You wanted him to stay as far as possible—you couldn’t have him seeing the mess you made! Your eyes trailed around the room, looking for something to distract him with. The floor was feeling sticky from the coffee, its spill coating the floor and now your knees. You didn’t even noticed you had accidentally knelt in the damn puddle.

“H..Hyung! Uhm, can you… get me some napkins?” You yelled, stopping Jinu just as he began to walk past the bathroom door. He balked at your raised voice but simply hummed, turning on his heels to grab some from the connected bathroom.

Your hands gripped the sticky notebook and shoved it underneath one of your old textbooks on your desk, standing up just as Jinu came back.

“Spilled something?”

“Mhm… just some coffee.” You muttered, thanking him for the napkins as you kneeled back down to wipe it up. “I don’t think it got on any of your things.”

Jinu let out a noncommittal hum, standing just inches from you as you bent over. You felt watched—to a strange and uncomfortable amount but you didn’t want to say anything. Once you finished, you glanced up at him, hoping he possibly didn’t notice his missing notebook.

But this position.

No.

No, it was his stare really. You felt yourself squirm, wondering how a guy could look so cute not too long ago and watch you like a hawk the next.

“Ah, (Name), did you eat the sandwich I bought you?” Jinu suddenly asked, his gaze shifting to his desk as he moved past you, sitting down on his chair. “I tried to remember what you liked.”

“Oh uhm. I gave it to my dongsaeng.”

The soft taps on the desk stopped, causing you to look over at Jinu. He was facing the window so you couldn’t get a read on his face. But the total silence made you feel as if what you said was the wrong answer.

“Dongsaeng? Biological?”

“Uhm. Yes. My little brother came to visit me.” You muttered, feeling a bit weirded out he asked that. “He skipped school to see me, but I didn’t have enough money to take him out so I just gave him my lunch. Sorry, Seonbae.”

Jinu’s light tapping on the desk began again as he let out a laugh. “It’s okay! I’ll just make sure to get you two next time.” He turned to face you, a large grin on his lips. Any tension in your body slipped away as you couldn’t help but smile back.

Kim Jinu wasn’t too bad of a roommate.

Just a shame he kept cockblocking you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Wa, Hyung, these lover letters are all for you?”

On your desk, covering your keyboard and almost the entire space area, was a small mountain of love letters. In your classroom for art major, you all had small little cubicles that was essentially your work station. Unlucky for you, many people found out exactly where yours was to leave gifts.

Oh but not for you.

Are you kidding?

They were all for Jinu.

Your classmate, Im Taeil, reached over and grabbed one of the food that were left, reading the sticky note attached to it. “Oh. This one is for Kim Jinu Seonbae.”

“They’re all for him.” You muttered bitterly, grabbing a heap of them and stomping over to the trash, dumping them with no remorse. Taeil watched you in awe as you cleaned your desk in seconds, leaving just the few snacks.

“Why do they give them to you instead of Jinu Seonbae?” Taeil asked, pulling at the rest of the sticky notes to read what was on them. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just confess to him? Wow, these notes leave nothing to the imagination. I think some of these are from guys too.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing one of the chocolate bars and pulling it open, taking a big bite. “I don’t know! Maybe they can’t handle rejection. I hope they know I’m not his damn servant!” You plopped down onto your chair and sighed, wanting to just drown in your sorrows.

So much for getting laid or finding a partner.

All that anyone wanted was Kim Jinu!

Agh!! You just wanted to say, “꺼져!” But you knew saying “go to hell” to everyone was a bad idea and would practically send you into the shadow realm of no friends.

Though your only friends seemed to be Taeil and Yoona. But you didn’t really think they liked you as a person. You were just the easiest to talk to.

“Hyung, can I…?” Taeil suddenly whispered, catching your attention. His hands made a grabby motion as he inched close to one of the snacks on your desk. You mutely waved and allowed him to grab whatever he wanted. You’d probably just give the rest to Yoona or something. Ah, maybe your little brother…?

“Oh, Oppa! Taeil!” Yoona greeted, the door pushed open as she carried a bag filled with goods. She skipped over, a bright cheery grin on her lips as she stood right in front of you and Taeil. “Look what Jinu Seonbae gave me! Ah, he’s so cool!”

Taeil peaked into the bag and pulled out a bag of chips. “Wow. He really got these for you?” You couldn’t deny the slight twitch in your lips at his wording. Her? Just for Yoona? No way. No way…

Yoona shook her head. “Not just for me! It’s mainly for (Name) Oppa!” She took out another pair of chips and two sodas, handing one over to Taeil. “The rest is for you! There’s a note inside.”

The bag was practically thrusted onto your lap as Yoona walked over to her desk across from yours and plopped down, eagerly chowing down on her snacks.

Taeil looked curious on what the note said but seemed to know there was limits to his nosy behavior as he sat down at his desk two seats away from you. Huh. Mainly for you?

Weird.

You pulled open the plastic bag and pulled out a soda and chips, similar to what he gave Taeil and Yoona. But there was more: two turkey sandwiches. You pulled out the one that had a sticky note on it, tilting your head as you read his handwriting out to yourself.

❝ 여기, 샌드위치 두 개요. 오직 토끼만을 위한! 아니 동생! ❞

❝ Here, two sandwiches. For Bunny only! No Dongsaeng! ❞

“No dongsaeng?”

You shrieked, looking back to see Taeil suddenly standing behind you. He grinned sheepishly, taking a step back.

“Sorry, Hyung. You got so quiet… I was a bit worried.”

Yoona perked up from her desk, tilting her head. “What does it say?” She walked over and glanced down at the note. “Who’s bunny?”

You shrugged, “not sure. I’ve never been called a bunny before.” You let out another pathetic cry of shock when Yoona and Taeil were suddenly close to your face, eyes wide as if they were examining you like a piece of meat.

“Really? You look more like a deer to me.” Yoona muttered.

“No… I see the bunny. Ah, but maybe hamster too. You have chubby cheeks, Hyung!” Taeil chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, wanting to push them away but you kinda enjoyed the attention. You weren’t really into the whole animal representative thing that a lot of Kpop idols did. Just didn’t see the purpose, especially after you grew up. But you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t like being referred to as such cute animals.

You could’ve gotten an insect!

The rest of the day was uneventful. You actually ended up eating both sandwiches Jinu gave you, slaving away at your project. It wasn’t going as great as you envisioned—nowhere near. You had no problem creating a nude body it was just difficult to make it… artistically pleasing and not full on horny.

❝ 잠깐만요 시간 있나요?…. ❞

Yoona’s Bluetooth speaker sang the melody of AOA - Excuse me as you stared at the rough draft in front of you. You wished you didn’t pick digital art for this project and stick to traditional but there was no use complaining now.

Your wrist tensed as you zoomed in on the face of your model—creating the soft brush strokes of his hair. Sharp eyes, black in color. The outline of lips that you would paint in pink. Maybe even red. Earrings? No, he doesn’t have any.

He’s gotten bigger. Definitely compared to the pictures you’ve seen of him last year from his friends. Weights..? Boxing? His knuckles looked bruised sometimes when you saw him.

Red, aching. Cuts of skin. Bright and glossy from the ointment he’d put on it. Tanned skin. Red against tanned skin—a perfect contrast.

Does it hurt to move? If you kissed it, would the blood coat your lips?

It was such an edgy thought but you wondered how it’d look to use his blood as lipstick.

His thumb pressed on your bottom lip, slowly smearing it. Would he call you pretty? Kissing you so you both can taste the metallic rush of blood. Maybe you can taste something else. White, maybe?

Your breathing shuddered as your grip on your pen tightened, legs pressing tightly together. Red and white. Would he like you in that? Pretty and pliant just for him to claim. Your free hand gently pulled at your pants, alleviating some pressure against your crotch.

Bunny. Were you his bunny?

Is that what he thought of you? Helpless and defenseless? His fingernails digging into your soft skin as blood spilled, your soft moans teetering on the verge of tears.

What did he remind you of?

A fox?

Don’t they eat bunnies?

You didn’t know why the thought made your whole body spasm. Your breathing getting heavy as the pen began to slip from your hand. He’d chase you. Yeah, that’s what a fox does to their prey. Chase you until couldn’t run anymore, huddled in a dead end as he got closer.

You’d cry and beg but he’d take you. Because he wants you—wants you so bad he can’t control himself. He’d always wanted you beneath him screaming his name for all to hear. As you became his prey.

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞

“Oh! I love this song! Taeil, do you like The Boyz?” Yoona said, turning up the volume. Taeil hummed, looking up from his screen. His eyes looked bloodshot at this point. How long have you guys been here?

“I prefer girl groups. Like Red Velvet!” Taeil said, proudly showing his phone that had a Lock Screen of Seulgi. Yoona cooed and showed her Lock Screen of Kevin. Wow, you’re stuck with Kpop fans. You rubbed your eyes, looking away from your screen to stop seeing the dark spots appearing in your vision.

Taeil and Yoona began talking about their favorite groups while you listened to the song. It felt oddly fitting for the mood you were in right now. You’d have to ask Yoona for the name later. Right now you need a drink, stat.

You grabbed your water bottle and took long gulps as you finally glanced back at your drawing. It took a moment for it to fully register before you let out a scream.

No it was certainly manly.

“Hyung?!”

“Oppa?!”

There—right in front of you—was Kim Jinu staring right back at you. You…

You fucking drew him?!

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞

No way. No fucking way.

But there it was, staring back at you. His fluffy black hair slicked back as if he was drenched in water. Black eyes with his signature big nose. His lips weren’t pulled into his usual smiles. You had drawn him with all of his features except that damn smile.

Damn Kim Jinu… he was affecting you in ways you didn’t think was possible.

You quickly saved your draft on the tablet and turned it off, needing to just go to your dorm and sleep this daze off. “Yoona… Taeil… I need to sleep.” You muttered, Yoona and Taeil staring at you with worried looks. “You guys should go sleep too. It’s late.”

Yoona and Taeil didn’t fight it. It looked as if they were waiting for you to give them permission. You waved them off, stating you needed to clean up a bit before leaving. Your professor didn’t like crumbs. But you didn’t clean, you just stared at your tablet. The large tablet that the school provided that was now logged on into your account, holding a secret.

Your breathing slowed as you reached over and pressed the power button, waiting as it lit up. The soft taps filled the room as you logged back in and clicked your recent save. He appeared in front of you again.

That fox.

A shudder left you as you pulled down your pants, along with your boxers, as your cock plopped out against your tummy. It was small. Smaller than most. Around 4 inches. Possibly 3 really. But it didn’t matter to you really—you didn’t think you’d ever want to top anyway.

Your hand grasped your cock as you began to pump it slowly, staring straight at the drawing in front of you. His cock. You wondered what it looked like.

You respected his privacy so you never dared to stare at him whenever he came out of the shower.

But you wish you did. Wish you could have an accurate picture of how it would look. How it would be deep inside of you. Would it make a bulge in your stomach?

Is he thick? Long? Maybe both.

You arched your back against the chair as you took shallow breaths, your whimpers filling the empty room. Your toes curled as you whined and mewled, wishing someone else was jerking you off.

Oh who were you kidding?

You wished it was Jinu.

Even as you reached your orgasm, cum coating your tummy, you didn’t feel any relief.

What fun was it if he didn’t chase you?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Jagi….”

A hum left your throat as you buried your face into your arms, shivering slightly from the cool air that tickled your stomach.

“Jagiya.”

Puffs of air brushed against your cheek. It was warm, a nice contrast compared to the cool air that covered you. A finger gently touched your cheek. Poking and doing small circles around the outline of it. The hand trailed down your face to your back, rubbing circles as it started a slight rhythm.

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞

Despite the taps jolting against your skin, it almost lulled you back into sleep. It was something you missed, the touch of someone special. Slowly, it inched further down, moving to the end of your sweater. Your body flinched at the hand now teasing your skin directly as it grazed it your stomach.

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞

It felt sticky. A deep chuckle reverberated against your back. The touch on your skin was possessive, rubbing and massaging your stomach. Your body flinched as your breathing began to stutter. A hand slipped further down, easily squeezing its way into your pants. The sensual touch—it felt as if you belonged to them and only them.

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞

A gasp left your lips as your eyes opened, looking around to notice that you were still in the classroom. Fuck. Your body tensed as you moved away from your desk, groaning at the awkward position you slept in. As you stretched, your gaze flickered to an ice coffee on your desk with a sticky note attached to it.

It had a badly drawn bunny on it with a heart next to it. The words: “fighting!” were scribbled beside the crude drawing. You couldn’t help but smile, placing the note on small bulletin board near your desk.

It must’ve been your hyung, Lee Minjae. Or who you affectionately called, Minnie Hyung. He was the one who pushed you to pursue your major instead of what your parents wanted. Such a great hyung.

The whole thing about Jinu felt like a distant memory. You’d have to change what you’re submitting for the project, immediately.

No way in hell were you going to submit a nude of your fucking roommate.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

There was a something wrong with your bed.

After you took your shower and changed into comfy pajamas, you noticed there was something wrong your bed. Well for one the fucking mattress was missing. You had called Jinu if he knew what happened but all he said was that he found a nest of spider eggs in it so the school confiscated it.

Unlucky for you the school were cheap stakes and it was gonna take a bit of time before you got a new mattress. Jinu had said you would be sharing with him but you didn’t necessarily think you could survive something like that.

Him pressed up against you.

Would it…

You pushed the thought away. Your eyes trailed off to your desk when you suddenly remembered the ruined notebook. You walked over and grabbed it from beneath one of your textbooks, seeing it in its fully ruined glory. There was no salvaging it at this point. You hoped Jinu didn’t care for this dumb thing.

But you were curious to see if you could read it fully now.

You slowly peeled it open and bristled at just how bad the damage was. Half of the pages were stuck together and when you tried to part it they tore. The pen he used to write it had smudged from the liquid so his handwriting was ineligible.

Right before you had given up to just toss it, you came across the last page, seeing a word you could understand. “Jagi.” Huh. Who was this babe of his? You tried to push away the slight bitterness in your throat the thought of that.

Of course he’d have a girlfriend. He was Kim fucking Jinu.

It’d be a shock if he didn’t.

You tossed the notebook into the trash can and made sure to put your food snacks on top of it just in case Jinu decided to accidentally look in there. If Jinu ever asked about his notebook, you’d pretend you never even seen him with a notebook before.

Now all you had to deal with was the problem of sleeping in the same bed with Jinu. You’d survive.

Hopefully.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t survived. It’s been two weeks and it felt as if you hadn’t slept in years. Jinu keeps two pillows between the both you while you slept but somehow the two of you always end up close. It wasn’t even a day ago when you woke up to yourself resting right on Jinu, your cheek pressed against his chest while your hand palmed his neck.

He had a big chest—you wished you had a little bit of a degenerative attitude to feel him up.

But you’d rather not be known as the perverted roommate.

“(Name)-Ah? Something wrong?” A hand gently rests on your shoulder as you glanced up to see Lee Minjae staring down at you. A cute grin pulled on your lips as you placed your pen down to grip one of his hands. You just liked touching him.

“Minnie Hyung! What are you doing in the art department?”

Minjae smirked, leaning down as your noses touch. “Can’t check in on my dongsaeng? Your classmates have been telling me that you’ve been cooped up in here. It’s not good for you to stare at the screen for this long.” You giggled, watching as he pulled away.

“Mhm. I’m okay, promise!” You could feel yourself acting cuter in Minjae’s presence. It wasn’t shocking. He always made you feel safe to act how you do behind closed doors. You could wear whatever you wanted around him without being judged.

A perfect, perfect hyung.

“Ah, Hyung, thank you for the coffee last time! I enjoyed it.”

Minjae hummed. “Coffee? I didn’t bring you coffee.”

“What? You didn’t? Then…” You pulled your lips into a pout as you thought about who would do something like that for you. It couldn’t be Yoona and Taeil. You weren’t close to anyone else.

“Ah, did my pretty dongsaeng finally get a secret admirer?” Minjae grinned, playfully pulling at your cheeks while you whined. The two of you began to giggle like little boys as you stared up at Minjae with a look of pure content.

You hoped you had Minjae with you forever.

A soft knock on the door caught your attention as you and Minjae glanced to the right to see who it was. The position you were in was almost of that of a couple. Your hand grasping Minjae’s as they rest on your shoulders. The previous nose rubbing and even just you looking up at him like he hung up the moon.

Were you two a couple?

❝ 타오른 이 감정��… ❞

Jinu was having a terrible day. First he had to entertain a few random teachers with something he didn’t even care to remember. Second he was bothered by some fourth years about a project they needed help on. And now, he had to deal with Cho Yoona and Im Taeil’s yapping about their favorite song while he walked to your classroom.

That song Yoona was playing just made him angrier. Insanity was the name of the song, at least that’s what she said. Jinu felt the same and thought if he had to see something else that pissed him off he’d die a slow death.

So of course he had to see you, his bunny, making fucking whore eyes to some random seonbae.

What the fuck?!

Jinu forced a tight grin and held up a bag filled with food. Food that was just for you but of course he can’t say that. Despite himself, he tried to keep an easy going and fun attitude when speaking to other people. Though he was wondering if he should forgo that for punting Lee Minjae into the sun.

That stupid pig.

You wouldn’t even look at Jinu, you haven’t been looking at him often these days. He knew it was because you were embarrassed about the sleeping arrangements. But it was the only way he believed you could get closer to him.

So what if he deliberately put a spider and other insects in your mattress in hopes they laid eggs and ruin it so then it would force you to sleep on the same bed with him?

You don’t understand any of his other hints or flirting attempts.

He needed results fast!

You were hopping away to any other dick that wasn’t his and he couldn’t have that.

This chase he was having with you was starting to make him insane. If he didn't have you beneath him soon he wouldn't survive another night with you. His whole plan about having you sleep on his bed honestly felt as if it was back firing on him. You were so cuddly when you slept, always finding a way to move over the pillow barrier.

He always pretended he was asleep when you woke up in a panic, always pulling away before he could truly saver your touch—your warmth.

He was truly going insane. All he could remember was the first time he ever saw you. But he couldn't think about it further when he felt Lee Minjae's hand pat him on the back. Jinu fought every muscle in his face to not immediately grimace at the other's touch.

"(Name)-Ah, Yoona, Taeil, I'll take my leave now. I don't wanna bother you guys any longer." Minjae leaned down towards you and Jinu felt his upper lip twitched as he watched the older with his stupid dyed blonde hair that looked fried and crispy nuzzle his nose against yours.

If that wasn't enough, Minjae wrapped his arms around your neck and held you close as he pressed a wet kiss on your cheek. You shrieked and struggled against his hold, trying to avoid the kiss. But you hardly put up a fight, all giggly and smiley. You looked so small in Minjae's arms, so pliant and easy to hold.

Jinu pulled at his sweatpants, coughing slightly. That seemed to catch Minjae's attention as he stopped his childish assault and gave (Name) a cheeky smirk. Yoona began cooing at how cute you and Minjae looked together.

You didn't. No way. Jinu fought the urge to pull Minjae away from you.

Taeil tilted his head, "Jinu Seonbae, are you okay? Your eyebrows are so furrowed. You might pop a blood vessel."

The others looked over at Jinu, Yoona and Minjae questioning if he was alright, you especially with a look of concern in your doe eyes.

Good.

Worry about him and him alone.

Pay attention to only him.

"It's nothing," Jinu said, puling out his signature lady killer smile. "I think I just need to eat something, I haven't had a proper lunch in ages." Yoona immediately swooned while Taeil rolled his eyes. Minjae seemed in deep though as he stared at Jinu, the fourth year tilting his head as if he was digging deep into Jinu's soul. Figuring him out with a just a look.

Minjae grinned. "Let your seonbae take you out, yeah?" He suddenly said, catching everyone's attention. "I know a place not too far from here that sells great tteokbokki."

Like I'd want to be caught dead with you... Jinu thought to himself but he simply hummed. "Sure, Seonbae. Bye, Yoona, Taeil..."

Jinu stared right at you as Minjae pulled away from you. Your eyes flickered over to Jinu and you offered him a tight smile, waving slightly. "See you, Jinu Seonbae."

"See you, (Name)." He whispered, mostly just happy you even looked him in the eye.

But his happiness was short lived when you looked at Minjae and offered him a cute smile. A smile that you’ve never gave him. "Bye, Minnie Hyung!"

Minnie Hyung?!

Jinu followed Minjae out of the classroom, curses swirling in his mind as he stared at the man beside him. Minjae chuckled after a moment or so and looked over at Jinu with a smirk. "Y'know, you can't blow my head off with just your stare. I didn't know you were into my (Name)-Ah."

His? Jinu was fine with being expelled at this point but Minjae suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Jinu-Ya," he placed his hand on Jinu's shoulder while Jinu wondered what gave the man the audacity to use such a title with him. "If you want (Name)-Ah, you have to take him. There's so many wolves that want him." He smirked knowingly, his finger tapping Jinu's shoulder.

Just as Jinu was about to speak, Minjae pressed his finger on his lips. What the fuck? "Listen to your hyung, Jinu-Ya. With someone so naive like (Name)-Ah, you just take him like you own him. Chase after him, there is a dead end soon."

With that, he pulled away and smirked. "Tell me how the chase goes. I've been waiting for someone to snatch up my dongsaeng."

Jinu just stood there blank faced in the middle of the hallway as Minjae walked away. Just what the fuck was that? He didn't even think too hard about it when he realized he didn't have to worry about you and Minjae. Phew, that stress was short lived.

But what did he mean by dead end?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were going insane.

It felt you were being watched these days. You had finally finished your project, having going with another idea and completely abandoning the whole nude thing. But it still sat in your drafts, practically calling you everyday. Sometimes you'd go back...

You'd finish certain parts of it. His body fully detailed expect that dreaded crotch. His dick. You wouldn't dare make what you believed his dick to look like. There was still some sense of self respect deep inside you.

Just not strong enough to not pay attention when you were drawing something for fun. You had a art account that you posted on like once every month of gay art you drew. So you were creating the piece, feeling in the mood to do something with oral fixation.

Only for you to notice instead of the usual two same characters you stuck to, it was Jinu as the top. Which, fair, it wouldn't be too different from what you had literally done weeks ago.

No, the problem was the partner.

You drew yourself.

You fucking drew yourself.

The drawing felt so real compared to the others you've made. Drawing Jinu between your legs, holding you up, bending you over on the bed. Your shoulders rest on the bed while your legs curled into yourself. His mouth biting the flesh of your ass, his eyes staring right at you, the real you.

Of course you had to angle it this way. Fucking pervert.

You tried to salvage the drawing but each stroke on that cursed tablet just made the partner look more and more like you. Okay, you were desperate for sex at this point. It was too much. You pressed the delete button on the sketch and powered off the tablet.

"I'm going, Taeil. Don't stay too late."

With lighting speed, you rushed to your dorm, trying to ignore the growing boner in your pants. Why did you have to like someone like Jinu? Out of all the people at this stupid university. Even Minjae would've been better than Kim Jinu of all people. But you couldn't complain any further because when you stormed into your dorm, fucking Kim Jinu was there, sitting at his desk.

Jinu glanced over at you and grinned, taking off his glasses as he shut off his laptop. "You're back earlier than normal. Did you end up finishing quick?"

You numbly nodded. "Yes... I just need to sleep. My eyes hurt." You couldn't even look at him. His gaze followed you as you grabbed your pajamas. Wherever you stepped, eyes were right on you, watching you like a predator does his next prey.

Bunny and fox.

That's what you imagined him as.

A fox.

It felt so hard to breathe with him near.

Why did it feel like there was no escape?

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞

The soft sputtering of the fan filled the room as you laid there right awake on Jinu's bed, wondering why you couldn't sleep despite your tired eyes. Jinu was fast asleep, his back pressed your own back. You didn't know why the usual barrier wasn't here tonight but you couldn't care too much about it right now. Not with your growing boner.

You haven't masturbated in two weeks. It's not a shock that the stupid art from earlier was still affecting you like this. You wondered if you could just sneak into the bathroom and quickly jerk one off. Would he notice? Just as you made the decision to get up, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. Your body stiffened as you felt Jinu snuggled against your back.

His face buried in your neck, his nose and bangs softly tickling you.

What...the...fuck?!

Your legs subconsciously clamped shut at him so close. Okay, you were fucking screwed. The thought of moving seemed impossible now with him so close. His grip was so strong that you didn't understand how someone asleep could have such strong coordination.

Despite being cuddled by your crush, your cock was more alive than ever, leaking against your pajama pants. You let out a stifled whimper as you reached down and gently rub the bottom of your palm against your bulge. The relief was almost instant as a guttural groan escaped you before you could stop yourself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Were you really going to do this?

Yeah.

Yeah you were.

Soon the fan wasn't the only one making noise. Your soft and breathy moans filled the room as you jerked off. Your body flinched from the pressure causing your butt to rub against Jinu's front.

Wait.

He was... hard...?

A wave of fear washed over you as you stilled your hand. No, no. He must be having a wet dream or something. Yeah, he can't be awake hearing you. No. No way. You needed to reach your damned orgasm and just go to sleep. You'd deal with the shame in the morning. You finally decided to pull down your pajama pants to grasp your cock and not just rub it anymore.

You pumped your cock, making sure to still your body so you don't accidentally rub your bare ass against Jinu's clothed crotch. He'd hate that. No, he'd hate to learn what you're doing. Fuck. The shame was already affecting you. Stray tears fell down your cheeks as you bit down at your pillow, still chasing your orgasm despite the shame filling your lungs.

Embarrassment. This was so fucking embarrassing.

It was close-- your orgasm. Inches away, dancing on the tip of your fingers as your moans began to reach a crescendo. So much for muffling yourself. Your edge to your orgasm was wrecking you—sending you to a mental space you couldn't imagine in any other circumstance.

Was this how sex with someone you liked felt?

Could Jinu make you feel this way?

Was... him being here making you this way?

It wasn't enough. You wanted more. Your legs shifted as you subtly pulled your pants down, kicking them off without a care. You didn't have any lube but you had no time. The tease of ecstasy was whispering your name—calling you to go further. So you did. You suckled two of your fingers, getting them as wet as possible before slipping down between your legs.

The two seconds of pain as you pushed them inside did not deter you. You could deal with a little pain. It was rough. Your fingers rubbed against your inner walls, searching for those bundle of nerves to drive you wild. But it was difficult in this position. You usually masturbated on your back or while sitting up.

You wondered if you should go as far as to shift positions. That'd be too much, right?

The shame was finally catching up to you. You couldn't do this. This disgusting and degrading action towards both you and Jinu. Your eyes closed as you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. It was too much.

"You're done already, (Name)-Ah?"

A chill crept up your spine as those three words were whispered right into your ear. Your eyes widen but you couldn't move. It was as if his words just took out any sort of life within you. His arms around your waist tightens as you feel him nuzzle himself further on your neck.

Your breathing feels erratic. You can't breathe. It feels as if you'd die right here, right now.

You looked down to see his hands. They looked recently bruised from his usual boxing. But now they felt different. As if it was a show at just how durable his body was. His arms slowly began to tighten around you only to you let out a sharp cry at the pain, earning a pleased grunt.

"You're awake, yeah? Are you ignoring hyung?" He whispered, his lips trailed your neck, stopping right at the tip of your air. "You can masturbate right beside me but can't even answer me?"

A pathetic whine left your throat as you tried to wiggle from his grip but it proved to be futile. You gasped, arching your back as you felt Jinu rub his crotch right against your butt. He began to hump you ignoring your shocked gasp.

Was he...?

"So selfish, bunny. Chasing your own release. Not even thinking about what your moans were doing to me." His right hand trailed down and pushed you to lay on your front, his body following to lay on top.

You cried out, gripping the bedsheets like a life line. "You.. were awake...?"

"I never went to sleep." He said honestly, spanking you right on your ass. You squeaked, back arching to get away from another spank. "I never knew you would do something like this. I was beginning to think you hated me."

"I never—”

"—but you never listen to me, do you? I tell you everyday to call me hyung but you never let it stick. What, do I have to force you to say it?"

"We aren't close!" You whined, whimpering at another spank. Your lower hips wiggled but you didn't make any effort to truly push Jinu off of you. You didn't understand yourself sometimes.

"What? But you call Lee Minjae hyung without any problem." Jinu grunted, his hand reaching over to grab something from the slim nightstand next to the bed. You couldn't tell what he grabbed until something cool and slimy was drizzled onto your ass. A whine left you from the coldness. "What'd he do? Fuck you? Chase you like you so desperately want?"

"Nooo," you whined, screaming when he shoved in two fingers inside your hole. Your hands dug into the bedsheets as he thrusted his fingers in and out, a constant rhythm with no sign of stopping despite your pleas for him to slow down.

Jinu chuckled, leaning down as he used his free hand to push your hair away from your face. "You act so innocent but you want this. I'll show you that I'm the only one for you. No other man can chase you like I can."

"What... ngh!!! are you talking... about..?" You manage to ask, wishing you could silence yourself. Your neighbors will certainly be having a long talk with you and Jinu tomorrow.

"Oh, bunny. My bunny, you really are so naive." Jinu whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "You don't even know what you crave. It's okay, hyung will take care of you now. You won't ever have to think again."

Your body began to spasm as you felt a finger graze that bundle you tried to reach earlier. Jinu stilled for a moment, a look of slight worry in his eyes before he noticed what had just happened. A cruel smirk pulled on his eyes formed those crescent moons you once associated with his innocence.

But it didn't bring any sort of serenity to your body.

You were flipped onto your back with ease as Jinu grabbed your thighs and pushed them forward, effectively blocking your view from him. Desperate and pained moans left your lips as he continued to finger you, fingers gunning consistently at your prostate.

A loud scream left your throat as your back arched against the bed, your cock finally releasing the weeks long pent up lust you've stored for awhile now. Your stomach slowly rose and fall, coated in your sticky cum. All you could think about was your orgasm back in the classroom.

You were right.

Jinu made you cum harder than you could ever do by yourself.

You expected him to pull away but instead you felt a tug on your cock. A whine of overstimulation left your throat as you parted your legs and looked at him with wide doe eyes, confusion written all over your face.

A cruel smirk pulled on his lips as he tilted his head. "I've wanted you since I first saw you. You really think I'll let our first time be so lackluster?"

Lackluster?

He thought that was lackluster?

A pained cry left your lips as he began to thrust his fingers inside once more, leaving no sympathy as he immediately went for your prostate. You were going to die. You were going to die being fingered by your roommate. Kim Jinu was going to be the death of you.

It didn't take long for you to cum again and again, your fifth orgasm not even releasing anything. Your body twitched as your eyes watered, tears streaming down your face from the constant overstimulation. You weakly pulled your legs away from Jinu's grip after your fifth orgasm, muttering something about dying from his touch.

Jinu chuckled, allowing you to pull away. "Ah, Jagi," he whispered, causing you to blush at the title. To use such a term for you... You shamelessly felt your spent cock twitch. No, no, no! You absolutely couldn't do anymore. "You're so cute. I wanted to wait but I can't. You'll forgive me, right?"

You watched with wide eyes as he grabbed your waist and pulled you down towards him, earning a shriek from you. Your legs moved up to hide your aching and loosened hole but he was quick, spreading them wide. His eyes were like a predator, watching your every move as you tried pulling down your shirt to cover your weeping cock.

"Seon—Hyung... No more... No more, please." You whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Jinu's gaze narrowed in on your face. You could see him think. Your body was aching and praying Jinu did what you asked. But your heart....

Your heart wanted him to take you without a second thought.

"Hm. No." Jinu laughed cruelly, flipping you to rest on your knees. You cried out at the sudden movement but could only whimper as he pushed your back down, lifting up your hips. Your face pushed into the bed while your thoughts rushed at the position. It felt so humaliting to have sex without looking him the eye. You felt like an object. A prize he just won.

Your dick twitched.

So much for self respect.

"Hyung's gonna take good care of you." Jinu whispered, spreading your ass apart as he rubbed his cock between the cheeks. "You'll be good for hyung, mhm? No more seonbae."

You only whined, wiggling your hips, your ass rubbing Jinu's cock.

Jinu teasingly slapped your ass. "You complain about it being too much... But look at you now, begging for my cock. I should just stop listening to what you say and take what I want. Would you stop me, (Name)-Ah? Would you run away?"

Run away?

Run away from the man you've had wet dreams about since you came to this damn university?

"Mhm. I'll run..." You whispered, a strangled moan leaving you as he began to push his cock inside of you. The stretch was difficult and you briefly wondered if this was how you'd die.

Heart attack from a thick cock.

Despite your answer, Jinu hummed. "Good. I'll chase you until you're beneath me, shaking in fear as I take you." His hands gripped your waist as he slammed the rest of his cock inside, earning a gargled cry and scream from you.

Jinu was anything but sweet. Fucking you like a beast as you withered and cried from the constant pressure against your prostate. After this, you weren't sure you'd have sex again. This could be enough for a life time.

"Sorry, (Name)-Ah. I can't last long." Jinu suddenly grunted, pulling out. You whined at the lost but didn't have to mourn it for long as he pulled you onto his lap, making you face him. Your arms subconsiously wrapped around his neck as he easily slid back into your tight heat, gripping your thighs as he bounced you on his cock.

Jinu smirked, his eyes trained right on you. "You look so pretty when you cry." He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck. "Next time, you'll be crying from just my cock. I'll make you scream my name."

You whimpered, arching your back as you pulled him closer, another dry orgasm creeping on you. You'd be sleeping well for nights to come. Jinu grunted as he began to thrust upwards into you in tandem with bouncing you up and down, causing you to cry at the sudden pressure. You were close. So close.

A sharp feeling in your shoulder caused you to spasm as Jinu's thrusts became desperate. It took you a moment to even think about what just happened--so focused on Jinu's cock stretching you out. Until you noticed red dripping down your right shoulder.

He bit you.

The delayed reaction to the bite made you scream out, tears streaming down your face you reached your six orgasm of the night. You went limp in his arms, just letting him chase his own orgasm. Teeth sharp enough to break skin wasn't something you ever imagined Jinu could do. But there it was, a rare and sore bite on your right shoulder. Blood slowly trickling down to your chest.

Jinu finally reached his orgasm after a minute or so, holding you close as he cummed deep inside. You shuddered, feeling his cum coat your sore tight heat. He didn't wear a condom. If you weren't fucked dumb you would've yelled at him about it but all you could do was hum as he pressed soft kisses against your wet and sweaty skin.

You glanced down and noticed blood coating the bottom of Jinu's lip as he pulled away from you.

He did end up coating you in red and white.

But your blood was the lipstick. You couldn't help but laugh at your cringy thought, groaning as Jinu pulled his cock out.

"You did so good, (Name)-Ah." Jinu whispered, kissing you on the lips. You tried to return the kiss but could only purse your lips against his.

Your breathing was harsh and quick, your body battered from Jinu's claiming.

This wasn't normal. Wasn't conventional at all. You were sure that if you told Yoona and Taeil about this they'd be worried for your safety.

You were prey to Jinu

But you were okay with that.

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞

"You're going to roommate with a first year? Wow, good luck!"

"I didn't know they could do that."

"No one would willingly room with a first year. They're the worst."

"Aw, c'mon, Oppa! They're usually just nervous."

"Well, our Kim Jinu will have no problem. Who doesn't love him?"

"Ah, true. Good luck, Jinu!"

Kim Jinu pulled out his keys, unlocking the door to his new home for the rest of the school year. He'd be the one to get unlucky for his previously planned roommate to drop out of school—leaving his room open for a late transfer freshman. He didn't want to deal with first years, they were annoying.

He opened the door, shocked to see the room already having someone by one of the beds. The first year was knelt beside the bed, looking through the suitcase that was filled to the brim with clothes. Clothing that looked more feminine than anything but Jinu didn't judge.

He forced his usual carefree smile, ready to greet his new roommate when you finally turned around. His breathing stopped—his smile dropping at the sight of you. You... You were different from anything he imagined.

Your look of innocence. Your body suddenly becoming fidegty the longer he stared at you without saying a word. Your sweater drooping on your shoulder, showing off your bare shoulder. Your skin looked so soft, so plain. It needed something on it.

It looked too bare.

"I'm... Kim Jinu. Who are you?"

"Park (Name)." You whispered, your eyes flickering up and down his body.

Love at first sight wasn't real to Jinu. He wouldn't lie and say he felt love towards you when he first saw you.

He felt lust.

An urge to completely ruin you.

And by the look in your eyes, the not so subtle glances at his lower half of his body. You looked to be such an easy catch.

"Stop looking at me like that." You suddenly said, your lips turning into a slight snarl but it hardly held any weight. Jinu couldn't help but tilt his head. He could tell you wanted him but you were holding back?

Actively pushing him away as if you didn't look at him with the same lust he felt. Running away?

Like a game of cat and mouse.

No...

Fox and Bunny.

He was going to devour you.

Even if he had to chase you.

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 않은 나 ❞

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

WOW!!! Gosh, this was way longer than it needed to be. I wanted to try something new lmao. Doubt i'd do it again, i was listening to kpop while writing this so it kinda just happened. Translations at the bottom! Yes, i did it for a reason, made it more fun if you didn't know what he was saying. Red is lyrics, pink are jinu’s words

I might make him an oc, i put too much effort into him for it to be a one time thing, smh... primal play is so fun.

tag list: @iwishtobeacrow @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @love-kha1 @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @smellwell @tehyunnie @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

Translations:

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞ — I can’t escape

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞ — everything will be colored with you

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞ — you’re teasing me, pretty baby

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞ — defenseless bunny. I’ll eat you up

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞ — if you run away, I’ll chase you , bunny

❝ 타오른 이 감정은… ❞ — this burning feeling

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞ — i'm driving you crazy right now

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞ — it hurts so much that i can't breathe, but it's ecstatic

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 않은 나 ❞ — the moment i fell for you, i was no longer innocent

Songs used: Insanity - The Boyz & Criminal - Taemin

[hazelfoureyes]

A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

[coldfanbou]

Saleswoman

Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.

Length 2.1K

Yuna X Mreader

Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through. 

Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face. 

“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.

“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”

“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states. 

You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.

“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”

“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.

“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”

“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.

She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.

You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock. 

“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna. 

She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste. 

Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock. 

You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her. 

Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.

You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving. 

You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth. 

“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.

You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in.  Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again.  You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress. 

You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.

“I think you’re right. It is better.”

“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.

You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.

[luveline]

hello! do you think you could maybe write a james x fem!reader where he helps her calm down from a particularly bad panic attack? hyperventilating, zoning out, crying, etc? definitely not for my own personal wellbeing hahaha

James considers offering you his stress ball. It’s a palm-sized squishy rugby ball with deep grooves and splits from years of squeezing, but it does the job the same as any other. He always thinks it’s shameful that office jobs are stressful enough to require the invention of something to take your worries out on. 

He thinks it might be doubly shameful to let you sit there without asking what’s wrong. 

“Hey.” 

You raise your head to smile at him. It’s a good attempt at hiding how you’re feeling, but James already knows. “Hi.” 

Things are less frosty between you both. Honestly, James would say he likes you. Like, a lot. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.” 

You take a steadying breath. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he says softly. He gives the office a quick survey and stands. “Come on, we’ll go sit somewhere quiet for a bit.” 

Your eyes widen. You don’t stand. 

Your breathing is too quick. James knows from experience that if you don’t get some time to yourself soon, you’re going to burst. It might be too late already. 

He takes your elbow into his hand. “Come on, it’s okay. We’re gonna take a walk.” 

Your breathing worsens by the second as James leads you out of the office. By the time you’re near the elevators, you’re struggling. Your inhales are short, shallow, and your exhales sound painful. It’s like you can’t get the air in, and when you do you can’t breathe anyways. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay, angel, just take a big breath. One big breath, let’s slow down.” 

James is startled when you grab him, your face pressed hard to his shoulder. It came on so quickly, but he really does have experience in this. He’s got two best friends with a cargo hold of agonies each, and he’s learned how to take care of them. 

He finds he’d love to take care of you. There’s no reluctance there, only worry. 

“It’s okay,” James says, wrapping an arm around you lightly where you’re grabbing him. He could call you ‘angel’ again, toys with ‘sweet girl’, the s on his tongue, but it’s a little much for the moment.  He says your name instead with all the tenderness of a pet name, desperate to reassure you. “You’re okay.” 

You’re not listening, you can’t. You’ve zoned out of the present, panicked tears forced from your eyes with each harsh blink. You make a sound, a pained moan as you begin to buckle. 

James grabs you tightly. “Honey, it’s okay. It is, I promise. Take a deep breath. Just a deep breath, and we’re gonna sit down.” 

He’s sat with Remus through panic attacks that lasted long enough to consider taking him to the hospital. He has no idea what tripped you into this, but he can get you out of it eventually, with patience, and with care. James sits you down in an empty room along the hall and opens a window. He turns on the light, and he drags a chair to yours to sit almost knee to knee, taking your hand to hold.

“Can you copy me?” he asks. 

You shake your head. Your knee is jumping up and down in a hard jostle. Tears streak and drip from your cheek in jagged lines. Your panic is hot, sweat at your hairline, and it’s not pretty, but James doesn’t need it to be, he’s just desperate to make you feel better, and he’ll try every way he knows how. He takes breaths for you to copy, presses your hand to the seat to ground you, to force you to feel the starch of new tough leather on your fingertips. 

When it doesn’t work, he moves on. James doesn’t panic, it won’t help. He can imagine the fiery ache in your throat, and he’s concerned you might go light-headed, but he knows this is just panic. It’s something he can fix. 

“You’re doing so good,” he says softly, aware of the quiet in the room, your breathing the loudest echo. “But can you do something for me?” 

“James–” 

“No, I know, I know, it feels like it’s not going away, but it is. I need you to watch me, okay? Watch my arm. Watch this, angel, it’ll make sense.” 

And he begins raising and lowering his hand. He pushes it into the air, as high as his fingers can reach, and he brings it slowly to his thigh. Your eyes watch it move, at first frantic, and straying to other places, but eventually his arm begins to ache with the motion, and you’re following it diligently. He takes measured breaths as he does it. 

You copy his breathing. Your hyperventilating turns to plain crying, and then the tears come heavily but without sobbing. 

James lowers his hand. With the other, he rubs your thigh. “You did amazing, honey. You’re amazing, well done.” 

“I…” 

Your voice is hoarse. You don’t finish what you’d wanted to say. 

“Does that happen a lot?” he asks, worried it’ll start again. 

“No,” you say. James can’t tell if you're lying for his sake, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t mind if it happens again. 

He hates seeing you cry, though. “Good job,” he murmurs, rubbing your trembling leg, head ducked to be on your level, “good job, honey. You really did so well. All you have to do now is sit here and relax for a little bit.” 

“I have so much stuff to do.” 

“And I’ll help you. But right now, we’re gonna sit here.” 

You grab at his hand where it’s tracing a path. It’s definitely an overfamiliar touch, but you don’t mind, curling your fingers over the back of his palm. 

You have nothing to say. 

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. He hopes his smile says it’s fine to not want one. 

“Please.” 

His chest aches a little. He slides his knee between yours and does the majority of the bending to hold you to him. “It’s okay,” he whispers as you take a shaky breath, his hand carving a path down your back. 

“I felt like…” 

James waits. Your voice is raw, but you’re not trembling as badly as you were. 

“I felt like I was gonna have a heart attack,” you confess. 

“I know. But you’re okay.” 

“I know,” you say with a sniffle that announces more tears. “I can’t believe I did that.” 

“You didn’t do anything. Nothing you had control over doing. Don’t think about it that way.” He pats your back. “Just try to feel better, that’s all you can do.” 

“You made me feel better, James. Thank you.” 

James hugs you. He tells you that he didn’t have much to do with it. All the hard work about panicking is the body that does it, he knows the ache of it afterwards, and he can feel your exhaustion. 

He’d let you fall asleep in his arms if that was what you needed to do, but after a while you’re okay to sit back. James leaves to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine, and when he returns you’re standing by the window and wiping your wet eyes. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks. 

You sniffle. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Can I give you another hug?” he asks. This one being entirely for him. 

He can’t stand to see you sad. James wraps you up in a hug and sways you from side to side a couple of times. By the end of it you’re both feeling better than when your attack started, and that’s a job well done in James’ eyes. If he keeps special attention on you for the next few days, that’s his right. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

herogasm ~ soldier boy;the boys

word count: 3678

request?: no

description: in which she’s trying to leave the supe orgy, just to stumble into the room of the man who started it

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, praise, unprotected p in v), mentions of herogasm (the event, not the episode)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I didn’t want to be there. There was a number of reasons why, but the most prominent one was definitely that I did not want to be involved in an orgy full of Supes.

My best friend, Maria, had convinced me to come. I had gone through a pretty hard breakup that left me basically inconsolable for days. I only left the house to go to work, and even then I was very much just operating on autopilot. Maria wanted to get me out of the house, so she came over and told me she had gotten an invite to some big Supe party and intended to take me with her to get my mind off of things.

She didn’t tell me until we showed up that the “party” was the infamous Supe orgy known as “Herogasm”.

Apparently, Maria had hooked up with a Supe who had an in to the party. She got the invite and thought an orgy would be the perfect idea to get me over my breakup. There was just one little flaw in her plan: I was not an orgy person. I was insecure enough about my body that I felt awkward being naked in front of one person, let alone an entire house full of strangers. Supe strangers at that.

Maria abandoned me the minute we walked through the door, taken by the Supe she fucked to get here. I was left, on my own in the corner, while a lot of naked people walked or fucked around me. A couple glanced in my direction, one even tried to proposition me, which I politely declined. I wasn’t sure how long I was stood there before everything became overwhelming. I needed to get away from all those people. I needed to be somewhere with no moaning or screaming or sex noises. Somewhere that I could calm myself down before I left.

I stumbled through the house, feeling my heart pounding harder and harder with every overwhelming second that passed. Behind almost every door I could hear more moaning and squelching. It felt like there was no true escape from it - there was even people fucking outside - until I turned the knob on a door that led to a seemingly empty room. I stumbled in, slamming the door behind me and sliding down it until I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head against my knees.

“Well, hello there.”

I jumped at the sudden sound of someone’s voice. I looked up to see I had hidden myself away in a bedroom. The main bedroom, I concluded, judging by the huge size of the room, the bed, and the fact there was a mini bar in the corner of the room. A mini bar with a man stood behind it. A very handsome man in nothing but a silk robe.

“Shit,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I - ”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “Judging by the fact that you still have clothes on, you’re not here for the orgy.”

I shook my head. “One of my friends brought me here. She didn’t even tell me what it was until we pulled up.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment before stepping away from the mini bar. I tensed up as he got closer to me. I was trying to figure out if I’d get out fast enough when he reached me. He reached over me and turned the lock on the knob.

“Stay as long ad you want,” he told me. “Not that anyone usually comes in unannounced anyways. I think you’re the first person to stumble into my room in years.”

My eyes widened as he started walking away. “Y-Your room? So...you’re the host here?”

He turned back and raised an eyebrow at me. “You serious?” I nodded. “I created this whole fuckin’ thing. Herogasm is my baby.”

That’s when it finally clicked. “Holy shit, you’re Soldier Boy!”

He grinned at me before he took a sip of his drink.

I couldn’t believe it. I had stumbled into the room of the most famous Supe in the entire world and I didn’t even recognize him at first! God, this couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

“You don’t have to huddle up by the door like a scared kid,” he said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I wasn’t sure if I could take his word for it. I knew he was a Supe and all, and Supes were supposed to protect people, but he did have me locked in his room, while he was naked no less. Well, besides a robe. I’d be helpless against him if he did decide he wanted to hurt me.

Despite knowing this, I still slowly got to my feet. He was pouring up another glass as I walked further into his giant room. It was like the size of my living room and kitchen combined. I was in awe of it so much that I could hear Soldier Boy chuckling to himself. He extended a glass to me and gestured to the bed. I took the glass, hesitantly, and sat down.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Bourbon,” he responded. “Some of the best shit money can buy.”

I wasn’t much of a drinker. I could smell the strong, alcoholic scent before even raising the glass to my lips. I took a small sip and immediately cringed at the stinging feeling that ran down my throat. Soldier Boy laughed.

“That’s God awful,” I groaned.

“You just don’t appreciate fine alcohol,” he said.

“I appreciate it when it doesn’t taste like battery acid,” I retorted. “What are you doing in here, anyways? If you created this...thing, shouldn’t you be partaking?”

He grunted and took another mouthful of his own drink. I figured that was the best I would be getting from him.

“How did you get in?” he asked. “It’s invite only, and usually the only non-Supes invited are hookers.”

I looked down at my glass again, debating on taking another sip. “My friend hooked up with a Supe who gave her the invite. She lied at the door and told them I had been invited, too.”

“Then she ditched you?”

I nodded. “Probably getting her pussy super-stretched as we speak.”

That made him laugh. I felt some sense of pride at that. The most famous Supe in the world was laughing at my jokes. That had to be bragging rights.

“Sounds like a shit friend, then,” he commented.

“No, she is a good friend. She’s very...sexually liberated. This type of thing is very up her alley. Me, not so much.”

“Then why did she take you here?”

I gazed down at the glass of auburn liquid. The memory of my recent breakup brought back all my negative emotions. With one swift gulp, I finished the contents of the glass. I shuddered as it burned down my throat.

“My boyfriend of four years dumped me,” I said. “Just woke up one day and told me he didn’t feel the same way anymore. After we had just moved in together a few months prior.”

Soldier Boy whistled. “That sounds rough.”

“It was the worst fucking day of my life,” I muttered. “Maria, my friend, I guess she thought a super-sex party would be the best way to get me to move on. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and all that.”

“That never works. Trust me.”

Oh, there was a story there. I could tell. One that was probably connected to the reason he wasn’t participating in his own orgy. Normally, I wouldn’t pry. I didn’t know Soldier Boy. He would probably forget all about me once I left his room. But the bourbon was starting to get to me. I found myself leaning forward, close enough that I could smell his aftershave.

“What happened?” I asked him. “What made you not want to participate in Herogasm?”

He looked at me. I could tell he was debating on telling me. I wasn’t sure if I should push the issue further than those questions, even if my curiosity was getting the best of me.

Finally, he sighed and said, “My girl left me because of one of these things.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I couldn’t even remember who Soldier Boy’s “girl” was in that moment.

“We used to host together,” he explained. “Once a year, we would allow each other to fuck whoever we wanted at Herogasm. One night, one meaningless orgy, and that was it. Then, a few years back, she comes to me the day after Herogasm and she tells me that she met someone that night. I don’t know, I guess they talked in between the fucking or some shit. She dumped me on the spot for the guy. Took all of her shit and left that same day.”

Okay, definitely a lot worse than my sob story. My ex completely shattered my heart, sure, but he didn’t leave me for someone else. Especially not someone that he fucked in our own house, during a party that we were hosting together. Even if they had an agreement that they could sleep around during Herogasm, that was a huge hit to trust. One that I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten over in his shoes.

“Since then, I haven’t participated,” he continued. “I’ll host, since it’s my creation, but I usually just walk around, make sure everything is going okay and everyone is having a good time, then I hide away in here until everyone gets too tired from the fucking and either leaves or falls asleep.”

“Why keep hosting it if you don’t want to participate anymore?” I asked. “Why not hand it off to someone else?”

“Because it’s my thing. I created it, and it got bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. I thought about cancelling it after Countess left me, but it’s become this huge thing to Supes and their groupies. I don’t want to disappoint anyone by cancelling it, and I wouldn’t want anyone else stealing it from me and making it a shit version of what it used to be.”

Before I could respond, there was a bang against his door. We both jumped and turned towards the door. Judging by the rhythmic beating on the door and the shouts of pleasure, it was just a couple that had decided to use Soldier Boy’s door as another fuck place. I chuckled and turned back to him. My laughter died out, though, once I realized how close we had gotten to one another. My face was mere inches away from his. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. The closeness made my heart start pounding a little harder.

The alcohol had definitely kicked in because I did something that was very unlike me in that moment: I leaned forward and kissed him.

He was receptive right away. His free hand moved to hold the back of my head. His lips moved perfectly in time with mine. His tongue slid against my lower lip, asking permission for entrance, and I gave it to him. I let my empty glass fall to the floor, luckily the fall being cushioned by a rug next to his bed, while he placed his on the nightstand next to the bed without breaking our kiss. In one swift movement, he moved me so that I was straddling his lap, not once breaking our kiss.

His hands explored my body, running down the sides of my torso, to my hips, then over my ass. He grabbed the meaty flesh there, rocking my hips forward unintentionally (or maybe it was intentional) against him. His cock was growing hard and I could feel that the tip was starting to peak out from his robe. Suddenly, I felt very overdressed compared to him, and I wanted to change that.

I broke away and Soldier Boy watched with lust filled eye as I pulled my shirt over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I stood from his lap to unbutton my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them and stood in front of him, just in my lingerie. Realizing how naked I was, I felt a little shy suddenly. Like I wanted to cover myself up or make all the light in the room disappear so that he couldn’t see me. But when he pulled me forward again, standing me between his open legs, and leaned forward to start kissing over the exposed skin of my stomach, the insecurities melted away into desire again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Don’t you dare think of hiding this beautiful body away from me.”

I was shocked that he knew what I was thinking, but I didn’t have time to figure out how he knew. His hands were on me again, pulling me down onto his lap and then quickly turning the two of us so that I was laying beneath him on the bed. I could feel him pressing against my inner thigh as he kissed me again, a pool of wetness starting to fill in my panties.

He moved one hand between my legs, opening them up for him, and ran his finger over the clothed material. I gasped and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth again.

“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “How long has it been since you were touched?”

The answer was a bit embarrassing. That probably should’ve been the first sign that my relationship was going downhill, but I was too naïve to notice that we hadn’t been having sex. Or maybe just too blind to the downfalls of my relationship.

When I didn’t answer, he pulled my panties to the side and slid a finger into me. The sudden protruding felt painful at first. I dug my nails into his arms hard, but didn’t leave any marks or didn’t seem to hurt him in any way. He slowly started thrusting his finger in an out of me until the pain turned to pleasure, and then he added a second finger.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he commented. “That asshole must not have stretched this pussy out in a long time. Either that, or he had a microdick.”

His fingers gained speed. I could hear them becoming wetter and wetter every time he thrusted them inwards. I was well beyond cloud nine, probably cloud twenty at this rate. Whenever I opened my eyes all I could see was stars, and Soldier Boy’s face watching me as I came undone beneath him. He was an expert in ways I could only dream of, reaching places I didn’t even know could feel so good. He had me on the edge of my orgasm, when suddenly the pleasure was ripped away as he pulled his fingers from me.

I whined, trying to reach for him to get the feeling back. But he pulled away from me, putting the two fingers covered in my slick into his mouth and sucking them dry.

“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he said.

“Please,” was all I could manage. It almost sounded pathetic how desperate I sounded.

He smirked down at me. “I’ll give you what you want. I just want you to cum on my dick instead of on my fingers.”

He sat up and untied his robe, throwing it to the floor along with the other discarded clothes. His cock finally sprang free, standing at attention against his stomach. My eyes widened at how big he was. I should’ve anticipated it, I figured most Supe men were probably well hung, but it a shock none the less. I wondered if I would even be able to take his whole length.

He spit on his hand to lube himself up, moved my panties to the side again, and then lined his tip up with my entrance.

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded and he began to push into me.

My gasps and moans filled the room as he slowly slid into me, inch by inch, almost at a painfully slow rate. I felt so full with him completely inside of me. I could feel the burn of him stretching me out around his girth, but even the burn felt like pleasure. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to me. I kissed him again, hungrily, desperately, and he got my silent message to start moving.

His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters. It felt so good to feel him pushing in and out of me. His dick was so long that I could feel it not only poking my g-spot, but absolutely abusing it with every thrust. It sent shockwaves of pleasure through me that I wasn’t even sure I had felt before. My head fell back onto the pillow, letting moans tumble from my lips as they felt the need to.

“F-Fuck,” I breathed. “S-Soldier Boy.”

“Ben,” he said, not breaking his pace. “Call me Ben.”

“Ben,” I moaned instead. Definitely a better name to say in bed. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? I think I can tell.”

I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he had a cocky smirk on his face.

I ran my hands from his shoulders down his toned back to his ass. I gave it a squeeze, urging him to go faster. I could feel my high coming back, and I desperately needed to chase it. He did as I wanted and his thrusts became faster, rougher. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with my moans and his grunts. He took hold of my legs and wrapped them around his waist, giving himself a better vantage point for his rough thrusts. I screamed out as his dick pounded against my g-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I can feel you’re close,” he said. “I can feel this fucking pussy getting tighter. Cum all over my cock. You can do it, beautiful, I know you can.”

His words of praise and encouragement sent me toppling over the edge. Stars exploded from my vision as my body trembled and convulsed around him. It was the hardest I could ever remember orgasming in my life, and it was definitely the best orgasm I could remember having. I felt like I was flying off of the bed and high into the sky, never to return to Earth again.

If it weren’t for Ben above me, still thrusting and whispering words of praise into my ear, I probably would’ve thought I had actually floated away.

His release came shortly after my own. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me before he was coating my walls. His arms tightened around me as he rode out his own orgasm, grinding into me until he has squeezed every last drop into me. He pushed himself up so he could look down at me again.

“You look fucking gorgeous after being filled with my cum,” he commented.

I felt myself grow hot at the compliment, but my body felt too heavy to cover myself.

“Are you...are you on the pill or anything?” he asked. “I probably should’ve thought of that before, but I was kind of...busy. I can get you a plan b. We have plenty of those lying around for this day.”

I lazily shook my head. “I’m good. I’ve been on birth control since I was a teenager. Besides, I don’t think Supes can reproduce, can they?”

“We’ve been unsuccessful in that field thus far. Thank God.”

I started to chuckle, but it turned to a gasp as I felt him pulling his soft cock out of me. Even when it was soft, it was big. I could hardly believe all of that fit inside of me.

He took hold of my panties and pulled them down my legs, gazing at the mess he had left between them.

“That’s a fucking beautiful sight,” he commented. I rolled my eyes and tried to close my legs, but he quickly held them open. “No, let me see this for another little bit at least.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“You just fucked me, what does that say about you?”

He eventually climbed back into his bed next to me. I could still hear the orgy raging on outside of the door. I chuckled to myself, causing Ben to look over at me and arch an eyebrow.

“I fucked a Supe at the Supe orgy,” I explained. “But just one Supe, and it was the guy who created the whole fucking thing. I was planning on leaving when I stumbled into your room.”

“Well, thank God you didn’t.”

He put an arm around me and pulled me into his chest.

“Maybe getting under someone does help you get over someone,” I said. “I don’t even remember my ex’s name now.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “That is a good thing. If you find yourself remembering, though, you know where I live. You can always come over and I’ll help you forget again.”

I looked up at him. “Really? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

“I don’t intend for it to be. Did you?” I shook my head. “Okay, good. Since we’re on the same page, my offer still stands. Although, the offer actually extends to any time you want to come over, for any reason. Not just for some rebound sex.”

“That’s a dangerous offer. In a house this big, a bed this big, I might never want to leave. I might just live in this bed, honestly.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

We both laughed as he pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I made a mental note to thank Maria for dragging me to the super-fuck party when I finally found her again. Turns out, it wasn’t such a bad time after all.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1

Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!

(Y/N)-Your name.

NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore

Word count: 4.6k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Knock knock…

“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.

Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name’s (Y/N).”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.

“Can I help? I love legos.”

He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.

“Sure.”

—

“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.

“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.

“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.

“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.

“Can we play something else then?”

“Nope.”

“Ughhh.”

—

“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?

Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-

“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.

Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.

You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.

—

“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).

“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”

“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”

“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”

You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.

“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”

“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”

“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.

“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”

“…yes.”

—

“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.

“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.

“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.

“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.

“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.

“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”

Your smile grew. “I promise.”

—

Ring…

Ring…

Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.

“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.

You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.

Text me when you get in tomorrow.

—

This was not what you had in mind.

Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.

Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.

A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.

“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.

Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.

“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.

“…Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“This… was a one time thing right?”

A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.

“… of course.”

—

A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.

Come over?

If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.

“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”

“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“

“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.

“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.

“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.

“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”

“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.

“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.

“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.

“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.

“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.

“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.

“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”

You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”

He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

Huh?

“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”

“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“

“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”

“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”

Ouch.

You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.

“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”

“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.

“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”

You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.

“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“

“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.

You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.

—

“I really think this one is it.”

“Me too!”

“He’ll love you in that dress.”

“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”

All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.

“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”

You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.

You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.

Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

Fuck.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille

[bouncybongfairy]

Hello! Could I request some dark smut with Lip? I can also be more specific if you'd like! No worries if you don't want to write it! Also I just found your blog and love your writing! 💕

Fucked Back Into Reality

Lip Gallagher x Fem Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Lip, hadn't talked to you in a couple of days. After having several conversations about this reoccuring problem, you decied to give him the cold shoulder. He reminds you why doing this is a riskey game.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Rough Smut, Brat Kink, Masocism.

Ref Account: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It’s a bitterly cold day in Chicago’s south side. The type of cold where everyone at school is more concerned about staying warm than fashion. You were walking to school, both your parents left for work before you woke up. The school was too close to home for bus services so walking was really the only option. After trying to get in touch with Lip for the past two days, you were now on strike from being nice to him. You weren’t ignorant, Lip had a lot going on at home which meant his undivided attention was rare. Sometimes you wished he would just shoot you a text like: hey super busy day, love you / shits been crazy, talk to you when i can. Having this conversation in the past, you weren’t going to bother having it again. It surprised you to see Lip sitting on the front steps of the school; early which he never was. You started walking up the steps, he stood up and flicked his cigarette bud into the snow. 

“Hey,” he said, you just looked at him and kept walking to your locker. 

“Oh come one, you’re ignoring me?” he asked, leaning up against the mental lockers as you emptied your things into the locker. 

“Seems familiar doesn’t it,” you say, referencing him not reaching out for the past couple days. 

“Yeah but mine was accidental not bratty,” he chuckled. Maybe it was because you haven't eaten or smoked that morning but that comment enraged you. Slamming your locker and walking toward first period, leaving him in the hall. 

Just your luck to have chemistry as the first class of the day. The teacher took 20 minutes to calm the class down. Kids play fighting with each other or flirting in the back of the room. Groups of students in their cliques, not paying any mind to the instructions given. You felt bad for the teacher, I'm sure she thought an education career would help so many teens. Only to be placed in one of the most poorly funded schools in the state. You didn’t feel too bad though, it only meant less work for you. Lip liked the fact that you cared about your grades, that you had a plan after highschool. As stupid as Lip was acting, you also liked how smart he was. You complained about it alot but you liked how he didn’t fall for your little tricks and games. He doesn’t chase you, or let you push him over. Most guys were just so emotionally unintelligent, not to mention Lip was more mature when it came to sex. The last couple guys you were with didn’t even talk while you fucked. Didn’t know what foreplay was or understand a woman's body. Lip had a really good understanding of when to be gentle or rough. When he would whisper things in your ear it always felt so natural and smooth. There were times when your stomach would randomly flip when thinking about the nasty things he’d told or done to you. Maybe part of the reason you had some animosity towards Lip was because you had been sexually frustrated. For the past couple weeks you felt like you were practically throwing yourself at him and he wasn’t in the mood. Of course you respected that, you just missed him was all; maybe a specific part of him. At lunch he came up to you from behind and hugged you. Still feeling quite stubborn, you allowed it but acted like you didn’t care. 

“You still mad?” he whispers into your ear which makes your skin break out with goosebumps. He slides his hands down from your waist to your hips.

“I know we haven’t talked but I’m here now, let’s ditch for the rest of the day,” he said, pressing his lips against your neck. As much as you wanted to give in and agree, you still wanted to make a point. Pushing his hands away, you grab your backpack and walk away without acknowledging him. If he wanted to brand you as a brat then you’d give him his money's worth. 

It was the last period, and everyone was waiting for the bell to ring. Some kids just left when they were ready and the teacher didn’t care. He just sat there, staring with cold dead eyes at his computer. Daren was consistently trying his best to spark conversation with you, all he talked about was how he ran track but he was trying his best. The heaters were blasting inside the school because it was snowing. The classroom windows were wet with condensation which made you feel sticky. Becoming overstimulated you decide to leave early, excusing yourself and walking out. Daren followed you into the hallway, 

“Hey I was wondering if you wanted to stay after school and watch me practice? Maybe I can take you out after, or something?” he asks. 

“Oh sorry I can't. I actually have a ton of homework so, maybe next time?” you say walking away, happy that you’re avoiding the rush of people flooding out the front gates. 

Normally Lip would walk you home but you didn’t see him. Your willpower that was fueling your grudge was weakening. Pulling your phone out of your pocket and seeing if he texted you; he didn’t. Looking back you were feeling silly about your actions because look where they led you. It was really cold, snow sticking to your hair and eyelashes. Once you finally got home, Lip was waiting on the porch which took you by surprise. You went to greet him, this is when you noticed he looked angry. He didn’t even say anything to you, even after opening the door and letting the both of you in. 

“How’s Daren?” he asks, once you both get to your bedroom. 

“What?” you asked confused. 

“Well you talked to him all last period and even after you left,” he said, sitting on your bed and lighting a cig. 

“Okay first of all, I only talk to him for like two seconds. He asked me to watch him practice and I said no,” you defend yourself. 

“That’s two seconds more than you talked to me today,” he remarked. 

“Lip that’s not even fair,” you say, which made him smirk and shake his head as he took a drag. 

“Do you even hear yourself? ‘tHat’s nOt fAiR’ whining like a baby who didn’t get their way. Why were you so offended that I called you a brat even though you’re acting just like one,” he said.

“What are you trying to scare me?” you ask while laughing.

“Trying?” he asked rhetorically. 

You rolled your eyes and started to change into comfortable clothes. While you were only in your bra and underwear, Lip came behind you and ripped the lace material of the panties. You gasp and go to turn around but he presses you against the closet door. Intertwining his hand into your hair, gripping it so tight strands of hair were being pulled out. His dick was extremely hard and feeling it pressed against your ass immediately excited you. Moving your head slightly so he can start kissing and biting your neck. His breathing was hard and with his chest pressed against your back, you could feel his heartbeat. As he marked your neck, whimpers and moans were escaping your mouth. 

“Since you were feeling so brave today let’s hope you keep that energy,” he growled into your ear. 

“You gonna try and teach me a lesson?” you asked with a patronizing tone.

He chuckled and led you to the bed by your hair. Your heart was racing, your sexlife was by no means bland however, this was the first time he was this rough. It felt like the two of you were breaking the rules or something. Like discovering new and daunting territories. He reached his hand down and started feeling you through the hole in your panties he made. He let out a moan once he felt how wet you were. 

“You are such a fucking slut, good to know being put in your place is all it takes for you to soak your panties,” he said, letting go of your hair. 

He sat up onto his knees, instead of fully stripping his clothes, he just pulled his dick out of his zipper. Rubbing the tip against your pussy. Your chest was pressed against the mattress but your ass was pressed against his shaft. You start to rock your hips back and forth against him but he starts spanking his hands against your ass. The pain was so bad it burned, you thought he’d stop after a couple times but he kept going. Wanting to show you were handling the smacks, you try your best to take them without complaint. He was unrelenting and you finally begin to squirm away, which seemed to humor him,

“The more you fight and squirm, the more I wanna fuck you,” he said, running his nails down your now bright red ass. 

“Fuck just do it already then,” you whine, in response he spits at your face. 

“Cum slut’s don’t speak unless spoken to,” he said, pushing himself into your twitching and leaking pussy.

The feeling was enough to make your eyes roll back. After weeks of Lip blue-balling you, the sensation of being filled by him was pure bliss. He was going at a painfully slow rate, pulling himself fully in and out of you after every thrust. As pleasurable as it was, you’d do anything to get him to speed up. Unable to rock your own hips, you kick your feet a little in protest. This made him laugh and slow down even further. He grabbed your wrists and pressed them against your lower back, taking full control of your body. You were dripping down both thighs and tears pooled in your eyes. You were at your limit with his teasing, tightly clenching around him. He pulled out and flipped you onto your back, feeling too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Tears had stained your cheeks and your hair was in complete disarray from being yanked and pulled. He crawled on top of you and started pushing his tip in and out. You were bucking your hips up, tears coming back as he teased relentlessly. 

“You’re sensitive here? Perfect spot to abuse huh?” he asked sarcastically, using one hand to smack his cock against your pussy.

In your own little world, trying to cum with what little friction he was giving you. He finally stops and instead wraps his hands around your neck. Then starts pounding into you, slowly tightening his grip over time. You were feeling dizzy and foggy, letting out a moan every time his length fully pressed into you. He was grunting and groaning, a couple beads of sweat dropping onto the bed from how much he was exerting himself. The closer you got to your orgasm the tighter his grip on your throat became. Your face was bright red and a wheezing sound came out of your mouth with every inhale. He seemed to be hummored by this and started to mock you. 

“Can’t breathe? Good,” he chuckled. 

The mixture of degradation and the fast paced abuse on your cunt was enough to send you over the edge. Shockwaves of pure pleasure began to ripple throughout your body. Legs trembling and eyes rolling back. He was chasing his own climax, seeing and feeling you cum around his cock was enough for him. Rutting into you with no regard for you, as if you were nothing but a toy for him. Seeing how he turned you into such a slutty mess made him feel feral. It wasn’t until he was fully finished that he removed his hands from your neck. After a small coughing fit, you began to come too. Lip was already up, using his shirt to clean you up. Pulling your hair out of your face and into a messy bun. You were half dead, completely exhausted and worn down. He laid down next to you, rubbing your back and whispering affirmations into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to be as close to him as you could. 

“I’m glad I could fuck the attitude out of you,” he said, as you fell asleep.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

[agi-ppangx]

a face to remember (hwang hyunjin x gn!reader)

no warnings tbh, just fluff; 0.5k works, not proofread

author's note: um, hi ?? do you guys remember me ??🥸 this is the first thing ive written in the past few weeks so pls be nice, i know its not the best, but writer's block sucks so when i finally managed to put words into sentences im gonna post it and you cant stop me🙂‍↕️

“we finally got to talk to that old lady i told you about yesterday,” you said, pouring yourself some tea into the mug. you peeked at the screen and hyunjin smiled faintly at you, encouraging you to continue.

he was sitting at his desk, his phone leaning against the stack of books he kept there so that you could see him well. dim light in his room made him look so cosy, almost domestic, and it made your heart swell with love. “turns out she used to be a history teacher, so she told us about all of those cool stuff, like this one time-” you glanced at your phone screen again and noticed that hyunjin wasn’t looking at you anymore. he was holding a pencil, but you couldn’t see what he was doing. “hello? are you listening to me?” you pouted, but he only hummed, too immersed in whatever he was doing at that moment. “hey, if you don’t wanna talk i can just hang up,” you mumbled, hurt that your boyfriend wasn’t paying attention to you.

being away from your partner was hard – you missed hyunjin’s soft touch as he hugged you and played with your hair every night before you fell asleep and you missed making breakfast for him and kissing him goodbye when he went to work. your trip was only temporary, but it didn’t make things easier. those video calls were the only way for the two of you to not lose your minds completely, so seeing hyunjin busying himself with something as you talked about your day broke your heart. were you really that boring? 

“what? baby, no, don’t hang up,” hyunjin snapped his head up at your words. 

“then listen to me!” 

“i am listening to you, love.” 

“then what are you doing, huh?” you pointed at the bottom of the screen, right at the pencil in his hand. 

“i’m drawing you!” he responded with a mix of amusement and disbelief in his voice, picking up his sketchbook to show you the halfway done drawing. you recognized your face on the paper, letting about a little oh and blushing like crazy.

“why are you drawing me?” you mumbled in confusion as your whole face and neck turned cherry red. hyunjin giggled at your dumbfounded expression, putting the sketchbook down.

“i always draw you as we talk through the phone, you just never noticed. it helps me deal with the distance,” he confessed, letting out a loud sigh. “i miss you, y’know? so every time we talk i want to remember your face and that’s why i draw you.” you snorted at his words, your laugh echoing through the kitchen. 

“god, you’re so dramatic. i’ve been gone for two weeks and you’re acting as if you haven’t seen me in years.” 

hyunjin shrugged his shoulders with a small smirk. “feels like years to me. but i mean it when i say i miss you. my bed feels empty without you in it.” 

you felt a pain in your chest at his words. “i know, baby, i miss you too. but i’ll be home soon and you won’t have to draw me anymore.” 

“i’ll do it anyway. i love you too much not to draw you," he beamed, making sure to capture the spark in your eyes on his drawing.

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

[heaven4lostgirls]

can I request a poly!rosekiller where Barty and Evan are dating already and they slowly start to incorporate reader into their relationship and before they realize it they’re basically in love with her or smth 🎀

(also I love your writing oml)

pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.2K

a/n: i?? love?? you?? thank you for requesting! feeling very inspired abt rosekiller at the moment!

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“You look like a dog without its owner Crouch” Regulus says as he enters the Slytherin common room and sits across from the aforementioned boy. “Piss off Black, don’t you have a Gryffindor to bother?” Barty snarks back as he slinks into his chair in what anyone else besides him would consider a pout.

“Missing your boyfriend?” Regulus pouts back mockingly before Barty bares his teeth at him. “No, actually. Y/N’s spending the day with Remus, reading some stupid novel” Barty counters with a huff. Regulus barks a laugh at the petulant expression on his friend’s face.

“We’ve been friends since we started Hogwarts and I’ve never seen you pout over anyone like that, other than Evan” Regulus says simply and Barty looks at him in mock outrage.

“I do not pout!” Barty states, “besides, I just miss her, I’m used to spending most of my time with her and Evan that I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when they’re not around” Barty complains as he lays down on the couch in the common room.

“You’re in love with her” Regulus coughs out and Barty turns to look at him with a glare. “what??” Barty hisses and Regulus shrugs with a knowing smirk. “Talk to your boyfriend about it Crouch”

Barty huffs and with an indignant huff of, “maybe I will!” He stalks off to wherever the fuck Evan is.

After looping the school twice, Barty finds Evan smoking a cigarette in the courtyard, he walks over to him without so much as a hello before he’s pulling him into an empty classroom. “Hello to you love, if you wanted a quick shag you could’ve just told me” Evan smirks in greeting but is met with Barty’s scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Evan coos in immediate worry, Barty’s only tell of his surprise is the slight widening of his eyes before he shakes his head. His expressions shifts to contemplation before he presses a quick kiss to Evan’s lips. “Regulus thinks I’m in love with Y/N” Barty states deadpan.

Evan’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open slightly, “what?!” He says, “…are you?” He asks skeptically and Barty is quick to shake his head.

“No!” Barty defends himself before he looks at Evan with a look of suspicion, “do you think I am?” He asks incredulously. “What? No!” Evan immediately denies but then looks slightly uneasy.

“I mean…we’re not exactly very platonic with her, are we?” Evan says with a slight wince. Barty quirks a brow and shakes his head, “but we’re like that with everyone, remember when I tried to kiss Reg on his cheek and he punched me in the face, but when I did it to Dora she was okay with it!” Barty says with fake cheer, almost forceful sounding.

“Yeah! sure!, I mean, of course we’re not in love with her, Regulus doesn’t know what he’s on about!” Evan says but hopes to himself that Barty doesn’t look closer into him to notice the slight twinge of falseness in his tone.

Barty nods in a decisive manner before a contemplative silence envelopes the two lovers, disrupted only by the sound of the school bell. “I’m gonna go check on Y/N, wanna come?” Barty quickly asks and they share a look of understanding, neither willing to admit what they’re feeling.

“Sure, haven’t seen her all day!” Evan says as his tummy swirls in a mixture of anticipation and what he hopes is excitement.

“Been studying with Remus” Barty says offhandedly, unbeknownst to Evan’s inner turmoil as an ugly feeling bubbles under his skin, one he’s only felt after finding out that Barty used to have feelings for Regulus.

Evan pushes it down, not letting himself think too much about it in fear of it confirming something he’s not ready to vocalize.

As they reach the Gryffindor common room, Barty mutters the password in slight impatience before he walks briskly to the couches where you and Remus seem to reside.

Sitting close enough for your arms and legs to be touching, Evan’s eye twitches at the sight, Barty scoops you up within immediate notice and places you in his lap on the other couch. Much to your chagrin and Remus’ amusement.

“Rosier, Crouch” Remus says in greeting with a small smirk and a knowing glance as Barty’s hands splayed over your midsection to keep you from moving.

“Lupin” Evan and Barty growl in distaste. “Barty, let. me. go.” You growl as you struggle in his hold, “stop struggling angel, I missed you” Barty huffs as he places his face in the crook of your neck, placing a soft kiss in the area.

Remus only meets Evan’s gaze with a quirked eyebrow before Evan huffs and moves to sit on the other side of the couch next to Barty, pulling your legs into his lap as he strokes your leg in soft touches, letting you readjust your position in Barty’s lap.

Your leg muscles tense before relaxing as you meet Evan’s calm gaze. “Hi” you murmur, abashedly at the attention from both boys. “Hi angel” Evan murmurs back in a tone laced with affection. His eyes not leaving yours as he allows his mouth to curve into a rare, gentle smile.

Your eyes widen as you look at him as your face heats, “good day?” You cough out, embarrassed by your lack of composure. “Dull, getting better though” he says as his pupils expand as he continues to watch you, lovesick.

Barty only hums, “what did Evan do to get such a sweet greeting?” Barty pouts and you can’t help but smile, which seemingly quells any qualms Barty had concerning whatever argument he was about to hold with you.

“Hello Junior” you coo affectionately, his eyes widen significantly before a wide grin blooms across his face. He looks more boyish in comparison to the unhinged and emotionless Slytherin the rest of Hogwarts knows.

You’re unaware of Remus bidding you all goodbye as he makes his way back to his dorm, too enraptured by the gazes of the two boys in front of you.

“Angel” Barty says with a grin as he looks all over your face with adoration, lifting a hand from your waist to push a lock of your hair behind your ear.

You laugh before looking towards the other couch, only now noticing the departure of your dear friend. “Oh no! I was supposed to help Remus with his herbology notes!” You say with a gasp.

“Leave it.” Barty murmurs and he pulls you back into him, your form melting at the familiar sense of his hands on your waist. “Meet with him tomorrow” Evan supplies helpfully and you smile back in thanks with a nod.

You snuggle deeper into the chest of Barty as you pull Evan to lie further on top of you. “Tired?” Barty hums again as he places his hand into your hair, softly playing with it an subsequently lulling you to sleep.

You only half-assedly hum and close your eyes as you turn to let Evan lay his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder and your place your lips in his hair, kissing it softly.

Unbeknownst to you, the position allows both Evan and Barty to make eye contact, something they had both been eagerly avoiding in fear of what the other might find in their gaze.

We are so fucked Barty mouths to Evan, who only smiles wider and shrugs nonchalantly.

Who cares is his only reply.

[makeyoumine69]

Euphoria (Memory Reboot x2)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: After wrestling with the lingering thoughts of Bateman, you finally found yourself open to Paul Allen's offer — a life-changing opportunity. But despite your resolve, you couldn't shake the need for closure. Determined, you sought one last encounter with Patrick, intent on resolving the unsaid and the undone before the cityscape of New York faded into your past.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, mutual pining, obsessive behavior, desperate & sensual foreplay, anal fingering, pegging, sex toys, face riding, penetrative sex, rimming (Patrick receiving), oral sex (69, blowjobs), edging, biting, spanking, cum shot, masturbating, praise kink, body worship, drug usage, pet names, dirty talk, needy Patrick, misogyny, swearing, gaslighting, manhandling, mind manipulation.

WORDS: 8.7k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Euphoria

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm sorry it took me quite long to write this, I hope you like it! If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

The clock’s ticking was the only sound in the opulent meeting room of Pierce & Pierce office. Your heart seemed to beat to the rhyme of ticking, while you were nervously spinning the thin cigarette in your hands but never really trying to actually smoke;  the glass ashtray in front of you would probably be left empty till the end of the day. It was even funny how drastically things changed after that…moment of privacy you shared with Bateman. Starting from that, you couldn’t really get him out of your head, even though it has already been several weeks of your pretending game of “nothing had happened” between you and Patrick. It was a matter of time, when your colleagues would start to notice your strange behavior whenever you and Bateman were in one room. 

Squeezing the cigarette between your shaky fingers, you turned around in the leather chair to look at the New York skyline through the wide window. ‘That it is not an exit,’ echoed in your ears and you tried to shake the nervousness off from your tense shoulders, but the more you were being alone, the more surrounding space was weighing on you as if you were on the very bottom of the Pacific ocean. 

The moment the door swung open and Timothy Bryce entered the meeting room, you were more in control of yourself. “Hey, Tim. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Sorry, (y/n). Had a business call with some delusional prick.” Bryce snarled and took a seat across from you.

“Delusional prick?”

"Yeah, you know...delusional," he chuckled and glanced at the cigarette in your hand, which was still more like an accessory. "The guy thought I gave a fuck about his life and his wife, who used to be a whore, by the way."

With a soft snicker, you made yourself more comfortable in your chair, throwing one leg over another. “Wanna smoke?”

“Yep,” he leaned over the table to take the cigarette, your fingers touched for a moment but none of you paid attention. “So, what happened? Why did you want to see me?”

Confused, you took a moment to think about your answer. You worried a lot about picking the right words, but now you were even more anxious. ‘I just need to tell him the truth and that’s all,’ you reassured yourself before turning to face Tim. “Well, the thing is - I’m quitting P & P.”

Tim’s face remained unchanged for a second, but then the man furrowed his brows, tilting his head and rubbing his ear as if he didn’t hear. “You're what? Quitting?”

"Right," you gave him a half-smile and continued. "Recently, I received a very... very good offer from one company in Chicago."

“Jesus Christ. Chicago? Really?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bryce lit the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. “Who the fuck even gave you this idea? And why so sudden? You have such a good job here, with a good salary and…” He paused and blew a few rings of smoke. “Do those bastards pay well?”

Laughing heartily, you crossed your arms over your chest and watched the smoke dividing the room in two with a white veil. “So many questions. Are you interested in leaving Pierce & Pierce too?”  That was not a serious question, since you knew that Bryce was more than satisfied with his job. “If I say who recommended that place to me, will you keep it a secret?” Tim nodded even before you could say something else. “I was at one P&P party, that one you decided to skip a week ago. So, there I met Paul Allen and we talked a bit and he mentioned that he just came back from his business trip from Chicago…we had a long conversation, but as a result he proposed to me to think about the option to change my current job.”

All the time while you were speaking, Tim was glancing at you with wide open eyes, his prominent brows curling up and down whenever you mentioned Paul Allen’s name. It was always funny for you to watch Bateman & Co getting so frustrated and annoyed whenever Allen was around or whenever someone discussed his success with having the Fisher account. To say the least, his ability to get a reservation at Dorsia. ‘I’m not gonna tell any of them that Allen offered me dinner in Dorsia after that party.’

“So you were unsatisfied with your job all this time and didn’t say anything? That sucks, (y/n). Didn’t expect that to come, not gonna lie,” Bryce made a low sound which was very similar to growling, but at the same time it also sounded like a scoff. “But, if that really is what you want, then who am I to judge you? We have only one life to fulfill all our needs, right?”

Timothy’s statement was like a balm to your soul, that was exactly what you hoped he would tell you and when he did, you felt some kind of relief washing over you like a breeze of fresh air.

“Thank you, Tim,” you finally grinned and put your elbows on the table. “Glad you didn’t start to read me notations.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“Him?” You squinted and tilted your head; your intuition was screaming that something was so damn wrong.

“Bateman,” with a sly smile, Bryce put the cigarette out in a glass ashtray; his glance was eloquent but you never really managed to read it. “I bet he will be upset. Very upset.”

“Bryce ” you rolled your eyes. ‘Is he lying or…?’ That question remained unspoken. “Leave these cheesy jabs to yourself, okay?”

Tim only laughed at your weak attempt to threaten him and stood up from the table. “You know, I saw him with Jean in Arcadia last night…” Now this information could come in handy… “I think they had some kind of date or something, huh,” he chuckled again and fixed his tie, giving the picture on the opposite wall a scrutinizing glance. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but something is definitely happening. In my opinion, you should tell him about your…unexpecting leaving, you know.”

Before you could respond, Timothy Bryce looked at you one last time and left the meeting room. Now, you were left alone but not really alone as the weight of the newfound information lay on your shoulders like two massive dumbbells. ‘If everything is too obvious for Bryce, what other things might the others think about me and Bateman?’ That was a rhetorical question mostly, but still you couldn’t even get up from the chair, sensing the strange, chilling fear inside your chest—what if you were mistaken with accepting the offer of a new job?

Gritting your teeth, you snarled and almost kicked the table from beneath, your palms were clenching and unclenching, thankfully no one could see you like this. Swiftly but nervously, you finally stood up and headed out from the meeting room, striving to avoid any of your soon-to-be-ex colleagues on your way to Bateman’s office. 

How many times have you rehearsed the words you were going to say while you were walking up there? Countless. But still, when you entered Patrick's office and saw his lovely secretary, everything inside you froze - words, emotions, even your breath.

“Hi, Jean,” you mumbled, with a half-smile on your slightly tensed face. “Looking good.”

“Uh, thank you,” the blonde woman replied and fixed the stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

As soon as you heard the echo of Patrick's voice through the office door, a lump formed in your throat and you had to cough several times because of the unpleasant dryness.

“Well,” you paused and glanced at the closed door with a nameplate ‘Patrick Bateman’ on it. “You would help me a lot if you let me have a private conversation with your boss.”

“Patrick is,” her voice suddenly wavered, implying that something was wrong. “He’s busy right now.”

“Oh,” you stepped back involuntarily. “Okay, I can come later.”

“No,” Jean replied curtly. “I’m sorry, but today is not an option at all.”

‘Is that some kind of joke?’ You hummed to yourself, already regretting coming here in the first place. “All right then. Have a nice day, Jean.” Turning around you already stepped out from the office when you head her voice:

“(Y/n), wait. Oh, I hope I pronounced your name correctly.” She blushed once you came back inside. “I think I can tell him about your visit, when he will be less busy.”

That offer was not something you would expect. “Actually, that would be nice,” you clicked on your tongue, considering your next steps. “Tell him that I have a reservation at Dorsia at eight o’clock–”

“Today?” Her question cut off your bluffing. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

You just grinned politely in return. “Yep, today. Tell him…that I need to talk with him about business and stuff. And, that it would be probably the last chance for him to catch up with me.” Jean’s eyes widened for a moment, but you reassured her instantly. “No drama, just changing my job.”

“Uh, that was probably a tough decision?”

“Not really,” you winked at her and crossed your arms over the chest. “But don’t tell him about that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She tried to hide her confusion behind a warm smile but failed. “I’ll tell him that you will be waiting for him at Dorsia tonight and that this conversation is very important.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed and for a moment just stood there, looking at the closed office door. “Thank you, darling. For everything.”

You made a special accent on the word ‘darling’, purposely embarrassing her and leaving no room for any questions and other stuff that would make a current situation even more fucked up. 

After you left Bateman’s office you had to find Allen as only half of what you told Jean was actually bluffing—you knew that Paul had a reservation at Dorsia tonight, considering he was inviting you for dinner. Allen’s strange interest in you wasn’t your top priority at that moment but using it for your sake was something you couldn’t deny at such a situation. So when you finally found Paul in one of the meeting rooms, you persuaded him to give you that reservation, explaining that you wanted to show one of your colleagues Dorsia before you would leave New York and move to Chicago. And even though everyone would find out that that colleague was Patrick Bateman, you wouldn't’ care since you would be far away from here.

A few hours later, the melodious voice of Whitney Houston reverberated off the walls of the opulent living room in Bateman's apartment, the lyrics of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody," which Patrick knew perfectly, striking a chord in his chest every time the song came on.

But today everything was different.

Everything, except some random blonde bimbo who was on her knees between Bateman’s spread legs, sucking his thick cock but not actually giving him any pleasure. Frustrated, the man tugged on her hair without any compassion, bringing her closer, so her nose was almost brushing against his hairy pubis. But almost immediately, the woman began to whimper and claw at the perfect skin of his hips, and he didn't like it.

“What? Already tired?” Bateman sneered and fixated the blonde’s head in one place for a moment by her neck. “Or is that your first time? Then, I’m so fucking honored!"

As soon as the man let the blonde go, she pushed him away and sat back on her ass, breathing heavily. “Are you crazy?” the bimbo inquired and pressed a hand to her half-exposed breasts, her whole appearance looked messy. “I was about…t-to choke on your fucking dick!”

Sighing, Bateman rolled his eyes and just stretched out on the couch, lazily stroking his half-hard shaft. "So, this is your first time?" The woman hesitated to answer, which only made Patrick mock her even more. "Did you tell me that you have a boyfriend? And he works at P&P, right?"

Wiping her mouth with undisguised contempt, the blonde started to get up, but Patrick stepped on the hem of her dress and she almost fell. "Marcus! Stop it!"

"Uh, look at you," the man chuckled, watching her feeble attempts to get up. "Such a pathetic little bitch, pathetic and greedy," the man added, giggling. "Ready to give head to every vice president at Pierce & Pierce! Your boyfriend should be so proud of you."

The woman was on the verge of tears when Bateman finally allowed her to get up and collect her things. She had been in such a hurry that she had left her panties on the glass coffee table. All this gave Patrick much more pleasure than the blonde's inexperienced blowjob.

"Ask your boyfriend to teach you how to suck dicks," he blurted out as the woman rushed into the hallway, rifling through her purse looking for something. "Since he's probably a pro at that sort of thing."

But the girl was already gone. So the man could only laugh to himself, so proud of his cheeky jabs, if only he didn't feel like a schoolboy dreading his upcoming meeting with his teacher. With a heavy sigh, Bateman closed his eyes for a second, his cock was already soft, but his sac were still tense and full of his cum; he felt too unsatisfied with himself, which only made things worse.

What was it even for?

The man could just take some coke, lie down on his bed, close his eyes and think of you—that was enough for him to cum so hard that he had to go to the laundry almost every day because he ran out of sheets. But today was different, considering that Patrick was going to meet you, and not just anywhere, but in fucking Dorsia. It seemed that everyone in this town could get a res there, but not him.

Biting his lower lip, the man looked down at the throbbing cock in his hand - the mere thought of you was making him horny as hell. "Shit…" If only he could reboot his memory and get rid of that scene in the Tunnel. If only. Meanwhile, the Whitney Houston tape continued to play the song "Where Do Broken Hearts Go". Bateman doubted he would be able to masturbate, he was too nervous and stressed out, even imagining you while that bitch was giving him head didn't work. Although it usually did. "Dorsia, huh," the man giggled nervously and checked his Rolex - he still had plenty of time. As if spellbound, Patrick slid to the floor and kicked off his leather shoes, his red tie already loosened and his pants hiked down. Leaning against the couch, Bateman threw his head back and began to jack off, recalling the forbidden, sinful sensations of your hand sliding along his hot flesh. "Mmm-fuck," he moaned and shivered, his free hand already gripping the edge of the white couch, several beads of sweat running down his tense temples. What if today he finally found the courage to confess? Confess that all these days had been a fucking torture for him, that he was ready to crawl on the walls from how much he longed for you, not even physically, but mentally. Maybe, just maybe, your reassurance that everything was not over for him, that maybe he still had a chance to have some normalcy in this cruel world—could change everything?

"Fuck, f-fuck!" Patrick cursed, sensing that his impending orgasm was slipping away from him just by reflecting on the things that were happening between the two of you. Jerking off and thinking about your sexy voice, your hot body and your cheeky smile was one thing, it always turned him on better than anything else, but thinking about the complexity of your relationship… that was not a turn-on for him. Not at all. Cursing to himself, Patrick slicked back his auburn hair and quickly got up to stagger to the bathroom, where he nervously opened the cabinet behind the mirror and found a small white jar of pills. Xanax was his only stress reliever so far. Taking a deep, almost desperate breath, Bateman looked at his reflection, his bloodshot eyes full of tears that threatened to cascade down like a waterfall. "This is not an exit." Patrick told his reflection, but opened the jar anyway and took a handful of pills. Frustrated, unsatisfied, he didn't know how he was going to survive dinner with you, and Dorsia was the last thing on his mind. "Because I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared."

Luckily, the marble walls of his bathroom were the only witnesses to his downfall.

Dawn came to New York faster than you could imagine. All the way to Dorsia you were nervous, but still confident in the plan you had made earlier that day. Even though you had failed in your previous attempt to dot the T's at the Tunnel, today would be different, you were sure of it. ‘I don't even know why, though,’ you chuckled to yourself, and the taxi driver gave you a concerned glance, but you just shrugged it off, signaling him to concentrate on the road.

In the restaurant everything looked the same as when you were here with Paul Allen, but this time you were not the one who was invited, but the one who invited another person—named Patrick Bateman—and speaking of whom, was late and that made you quite anxious. ‘What if he just doesn’t come?’ This thought made you fidget in the chair, your hands fumbling with the napkin on your knees and after telling the waiter for the second time that you were expecting someone else to come, your fingers became cold as if they were frozen. 

“Maybe I can bring you some drinks?” The waiter didn’t give up, spurring you to order at least something to drink.

Quickly running a hand across your strained face, you exhaled loudly and nodded. “Yeah, drinks,” you stummered when you looked past the waiter, noticing the familiar elegant silhouette coming close to your table. “Can you…bring…some water?”

Confused, the waiter glanced down at the full glass of water next to you. “Uh, more water?”

“(Y/n),” Bateman’s voice echoed across the space. “I hope I didn't make you wait for so long,” he chuckled and took a seat at the table. “Had some important business affairs.” The moment he noticed the confused waiter, Patrick gave him his most sassy smile and checked his Rolex for no reason, probably just to show them out. “Can you please bring me a glass of J&B and some fresh salad to your taste.”

‘A salad, really?’ You almost snickered, but instead your face turned into a neutral expression. "Business, huh?"

Bateman rested more comfortably in his chair after the waiter finally left. "You know, some affairs with blonde hair and long legs, big tits and an amazing ass."

That came out of nowhere. 

Still calm, you watched the man across from you smile, surely proud of himself and so damn bossy it was almost absurd. "You mean someone in particular, don't you?"

“Oh, yeah,” Patrick put his both elbows on the table, clasping his hands, revealing his gold Rolex once again. “Her name is Stephany, if I’m not mistaken, she’s a girlfriend of one of our accountants,” the man paused before snickering. “That one who makes monthly reports, you know him. So, I’m a bit late because I couldn't leave such a lovely girl without a treat she deserved.”

Right now, you didn't care if it was true or not—his well-framed—confidence was something you found very interesting and even amusing, as it was proof that he was preparing for this dinner just like you were.

"And that's when I thought vice presidents actually worked at Pierce & Pierce." With a slight grin, you joked and finally took a sip of water, feeling your throat suddenly go dry, just like when you were talking to Jean earlier.

Bateman's sudden laugh rang out like shattered glass. "'C'mon, (y/n), don't pretend you don't know that-"

"I know that your father owns almost half of the company," you interrupted him abruptly, and he wasn't happy about it. "And that gives you certain privileges."

"Don't be envious. It doesn't suit you."

"Envious?" You set the glass of water aside. "I think it was me who invited you here so that you could finally visit Dorsia… at least once."

The air between the two of you was thick with venom and something even more poisonous. Nevertheless, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't think Bateman was acting like the jerk he undoubtedly was. But, to be honest, you expected him to act a little less smug.

"I still think this place is overrated," Patrick hissed through clenched teeth right as the waiter brought him his whiskey and salad with sliced vegetables and some cheese, which he didn't even touch, taking a big gulp of his drink. "So, uh, Jean told me you wanted to talk to me about something important. What is it?"

The waiter didn't even try to offer to check the menu again and retreated, but he would definitely come back later with the same request, since you hadn't ordered anything yet.

"Well, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," you suddenly declared, crumpling the paper napkin before dropping it on the finest tablecloth. "The thing is—I'm quitting P&P and moving to Chicago. That's it. Nothing special, really."

The moment of silence washed over them both like a tidal wave. Visibly shocked, Bateman just sat there, then nervously straightened his tie and looked around as if to call for help. 'Not so ballsy anymore, Patty?' There was something about the way he was humiliated, something that stirred a burning flame in your gut that came dangerously close to burning you alive from the inside. And again, you would be lying to yourself if you pretended you could control it.

"Chicago?" Patrick repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"Why do both you and Bryce react as if Chicago were a desert island?"

"Heh," Bateman rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. "So Bryce knows everything. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'd tell you more," that was the moment you'd been waiting for so long—the moment of his vulnerability, and you couldn't stop yourself like a shark who sensed blood in the water. "Paul Allen was the one who actually recommended this job to me."

Patrick's jaw clenched at the mention of Paul Allen. "Really?"

"Yes," you continued to corner him. "One day we were having dinner, here, in Dorsia," you grinned, catching every little change in Bateman's no longer confident face. "He said one of his buddies was starting a new company, and they were looking for specialists… like me."

"Well," he began, sliding his hand across the table's surface as if to calm down. "Good for you, (y/n). Congratulations!" That was the most fake 'congratulations' you ever heard, even though you were expecting a slightly different reaction. "But I don't understand. Why didn't you talk to me before? Before you made your decision."

This question almost made you choke. 'Did he really say that?' And just as you were about to answer, the waiter came across the table again, choosing the perfect moment. Before he could offer to check the menu, you raised your hand in an irritating gesture. "Bring me a vodka and orange juice," Patrick's eyebrows arched almost immediately. "Double vodka, please."

"Yes, s-sure." The waiter stuttered before taking the crumpled napkin and walking away, very stressed.

Without giving yourself time to think, you leaned against the table and muttered. "Why should I? We are not friends."

"Of course not," Bateman scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest, the black pinstriped suit outlining his physique perfectly. "Not after you gave me a decent handjob in the Tunnel bathrooms."

Patrick caught you off guard by injecting this argument so blatantly into the conversation. "Decent? It was fucking amazing." You growled and quickly turned around to see if anyone was paying attention to your table, and when you were sure there was nothing to worry about, you faced Patrick again. "Too amazing, considering you seem to be thinking about it all the time."

"W-what? I… I didn't…"

Sneering, you tapped your fingers on the table in nervous anticipation of your drinks, even though you hadn't planned on drinking any alcohol, wanting to keep yourself as sober as possible for the dinner and everything that might or might not happen afterwards.

"Relax, Bateman," you rested your chin on your clasped hands, finally allowing yourself to examine his handsome appearance, including the way his cheeks were tinged with a red hue. "You've said too much already."

And from that moment on, you began to feel relaxed, even pleased with all the things Patrick revealed to you, accidentally or not, you would use every little detail to your own advantage when the time came.

A little later, when the waiter finally brought your cocktail, you finished it too quickly, so you asked for it to be repeated under the attentive hazel eyes of the man sitting on the other side of the table. The more drunk you got, the more topics you discussed, but when you mentioned Paul Allen again, you noticed that Patrick's good mood was fading.

"Wait a minute!" You held out a hand to stop him from jumping from one topic to another. "Can you tell me why the mere mention of Paul Allen triggers you so much? Is there something between you two?"

Bateman couldn't hold back a loud, hearty laugh. "That joke's too tasteless even for Bryce," he finished his whiskey, the salad still untouched on the table in front of him. "Allen…he's…not the person he tries to pretend to be."

"Oh?"

"I think he's part of that Yale thing."

You narrowed your eyes and leaned in closer. "Yale thing? What do you mean?"

Patrick quickly licked his lips, not expecting you to delve further into the subject. "Well, I think he's probably a closeted homosexual who likes to do a lot of coke and have orgies with male hookers."

At first you just giggled out loud, not caring that some people were looking at you, but then your face suddenly became serious. "How do you know about that? Did he tell you or…" you smiled playfully. "Did he do something… that made you think so," you bit your lower lip and drank the last drop of your cocktail with unabashed thirst. "That sounds strange…very strange."

"You're drunk, (y/n)," Bateman murmured, tilting his hand as if thinking about something. "Too drunk, which gives me the impression that you're as much of an amateur at drinking as you are at doing coke."

"Uh, s-shut up."

"See? Can't even speak words."

"Maybe...maybe I am drunk, now what? Are you gonna be a fucking gentleman like you always try to be and offer me a ride? Or maybe," you fixed your hair nonchalantly, your vision slightly blurred. "Would you be brave enough to show me your apartment?"

As soon as those words came out of your mouth, you knew there was no turning back, and your inner voice, which usually kept you from doing shit you would regret, seemed to fall asleep from the high level of alcohol in your system.

The man across from you straightened up at your bold suggestion, reading the subtext with ease. "Is that what you want? For me to take you to my place?"

His question hung in the air for a moment before you managed to come up with an answer, but you didn't know how to get out of this situation and turn it into a joke, as you usually did. Maybe you just didn't want to get out of it? Just like you didn't want to let him go when he helped you get up from the table after he'd paid for dinner and the two of you were in a cab. Not to mention when you almost fell down and the man caught you in his arms, but there was still a barrier between the two of you—an invisible wall—the only line that kept you apart. The line that was too dangerous to cross, but too tempting not to think about what lay behind it.

By the time the cab pulled up at the American Gardens Building, you were half asleep on Bateman's shoulder, his Lancome cologne not helping at all, making your mind even more cloudy. But you did your best to get out of the car without his help, letting the cool fresh air bring you some relief and clarity. 

In the elevator, Patrick began to mumble about his musical preferences, but you didn't really pay attention because your brain was overworked trying to come up with a plan B in case things went too far. 'As if they hadn't gone too far already,' your inner voice suddenly tried to break through the thick layers of alcohol, affection and uncontrollable desire.

Bateman's apartment looked exactly as you had imagined—opulent, stylish, and very minimalist. Everything seemed to be in its place, including you, standing next to the tall window in his living room.

"Not a bad view," you admitted, taking off the jacket of your suit. "Not Central Park, but not bad at all."

"Central Park?" Patrick asked, hiding in the kitchen, which was perfectly connected to the living room, but you couldn't see him behind the wall as he examined the large number of different kitchen knives.

"Yeah, you know, Paul Allen's apartment faces Central Park, looks really fancy," you didn't mean to hurt Bateman's feelings, but the moment you turned around and saw him, it was obvious that your words had reached him. "But, I really prefer your place...it's more modern for my taste."

Puzzled, Patrick didn't hurry to join you in the living room, his thin fingers never ceasing to slide up and down the sharp blade in his hand, but at the very last moment, the man put the knife back in its place. With deliberate steps, he walked out of the kitchen and approached his stereo system.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief, as if his life depended on your answer.

Such a reaction from him was oddly appealing, the vulnerability, the desperation in his brown eyes. This was a level of satisfaction that no drug could ever match. Meanwhile, Bateman turned on the music, the charming voice of Phil Collins filling the room as "Invisible Touch" began to play.

The man was examining the tape in his hands when you slowly approached and gently cupped his face, inducing him to look at you. "Yes, I do," you confirmed your previous words, and when Patrick didn't flinch from your touch, you decided to go on, tracing your finger along his sensual lips, fighting the urge to kiss them here and now. "Speaking of preferences," you removed your hand only to place it on the lapel of his suit. "Would you be a good boy and give me a full tour of your apartment, including the bedroom?"

In any other situation, you would probably die from shame at saying something like that, but not now. Not with him, because no sooner had your question escaped your lips than you noticed that his hands were shaking, and the CD was about to fall out of them, so you had to gently grab it and pull it out of his hands. Bateman reminded you of a man struggling with addiction, every twitch of his plump lips, every furrow of his perfect eyebrows spoke volumes about the undeniable affection between the two of you, an affection you were both too exhausted to fight and hide.

Without further ado, you placed the CD on top of the stereo and pressed Patrick against the nearest wall, holding the lapels of his Valentino suit and sealing his hot mouth with yours, opening it wider with your tongue, so eager to taste him again after such a long wait.

"Mmhm," he purred into the kiss, his hands desperately wrapped around your waist, then going lower to cradle your hips, groping and squeezing a little too hard so that you had to bite his lip to make him stop, but the man just growled and pushed you closer, your groins rubbing against each other in the most lewd way possible. "Bedroom...go to the bedroom...and wait for me there."

Bateman's words right after the kiss sounded like nonsense, which you found oddly arousing. With a foxy smile, you licked his cheek, then his neck, almost biting the artery and sucking on the reading mark. "No, no, no, Bateman," you shook your head, grabbing his neck slightly to kiss him again, but he did it first. Even now Patrick was trying to take the lead, your tongues fighting for control like two snakes entwining around each other. "I'm in no mood for games or waiting."

The moment you said it, Bateman lifted you with practiced ease as if you weighed nothing, and you didn't even have a chance to protest as he began to move toward the closed room behind his white couch. In his arms, you finally felt complete, even if you let him take the lead for a while. Noticing the pair of panties on the glass coffee table, you wrapped your legs around him and buried your fingers in his silky hair, ruffling them and letting them fall on his forehead, making him look even hotter.

Jesus, you were on the verge of an explosion just from the foreplay alone.

Bateman's bedroom greeted you with stark white walls, the brightness of which was almost painful to look at as he turned on the light holding you with one arm, and the king-size bed on which he carefully placed you, but you didn't let him pull away, tugging at his tie and forcing him to lay on top of you.

"Fuck, look at you," Patrick grazed your earlobe before massaging your chest through your shirt and hovering over you. "So insatiable, aren't you? Running in circles like a trapped kitten."

Growling, you pulled him closer again to suck on his lower lip, letting your body rub against his so you could feel how hard he was, so painfully hard, considering the sound he made when you snaked your hand between his legs to cradle his bulge. "Are you gonna cum in your pants if I don't stop?"

With a determined persistence, you continued to massage his hard cock through the layers of his expensive clothes as you removed his jacket and then his suspenders, one by one. Bateman didn't interfere as he was also busy getting rid of your clothes without actually tearing them apart.

"Let me," you insisted as soon as you noticed him struggling to unbutton your shirt. "This is my favorite shirt, you know," you gasped, your own fingers trembling, making it difficult even for you to finally remove your shirt. "I don't want it to get torn."

When you finally got rid of the top part of your clothes, the sight of your exposed skin made Patrick grunt in hunger, and the next second the man was already sucking on your nipple, his muscular frame shaking on top of you from your teasing ministrations on his twitching dick and hard balls. Damn, you wanted to suck him dry as much as you wanted to ruin him until he forgot his own name.

"Don't like it anyway," Bateman muttered suddenly, holding your hands above your head. "You need to go to some... fashion shows... maybe you will have more free time in Chicago, considering Paul Allen offered you this job. I'm sure it would be some boring shit."

‘Good Lord, he mentioned him again…’ You rolled your eyes and turned away from his face, eliciting a low rumble from Patrick's massive chest. "What the fuck is wrong with Paul... are you... jealous of him or something?"

"Me?" he asked, confused and you took the opportunity to release your hands and roll over so that you were now on top of him. "I'm not the one bragging about having dinner with him in fucking Dorsia!"

Bateman sounded like a little boy who was upset that no one wanted to play with him, which made you giggle, but then you straddled him and opened his white shirt and removed his tie.

"The more you talk," you murmured as you ran your hands along the smooth skin of his torso, paying special attention to his toned pecs and abs. "The more you make me think you two had a history," you leaned down to teasingly lick his lips, your sneaky hands already working on the zipper of his pants. "But still, I don't care." In one swift motion, you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, watching his thick cock pop out, yearning for your attention. "Mhmm, the last time we were alone you worked me up really good, I wanna return the favor," your hands wrapped around the base of his beefy shaft, the small droplets of his pre-cum already covering its tip, forcing you to lick your lips in hunger. "If you have nothing else on your mind?"

Did you really care about his feelings since you asked him that question? 

The man beneath you was definitely growing impatient, his hands gripping your hips as if he was about to imprint his fingerprints on your skin if you were not wearing your pants. 

"Lie on your side," Bateman suggested suddenly. "Take off all your clothes and lie down here," he tapped the spot next to him and you stood up quickly, as if he had cast a spell on you. Never in your life did you get rid of your clothes faster than now. "Uh, what a cute ass you have, (y/n)."

You frowned at his words, giving him your dead stare as you slipped out of your underwear, giving him the full view—the glint in his hazel eyes was too much to ignore—so you turned around and presented yourself to him; Bateman couldn't help but lazily stroked himself, putting a hand under his head. 

"Tell me, Bateman," you began, your hands slowly sliding down your bare skin. "Have you been thinking about me all this time?" You cupped your ass, bending over a little so he could see the spot right between your legs. "Or have you found a way to forget things you don't want to remember?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. "I wish there was a way to forget." Patrick murmured and watched as you lay on your side in the 69 position, then he did the same, his hot breath scorching the soft flesh between your thighs. 

You wrapped your hands around his hips and eagerly took his drooling dick in your mouth, while he was lapping at your crotch. "Mm-fuck," you jerked against his face, your fingers digging deeper into his skin as Bateman feasted on you like the most delicious meal. "Me too, Bateman, m-me too."

Having said that, you swirled your tongue around the swollen tip of his veiny cock, causing a muffled moan to erupt from his mouth, its vibration sending shivers down the base of your spine, only spurring you on to go further, pushing his dick deeper into your mouth. Soon the room was filled with the soft, wet sounds of your shared oral pleasure, punctuated by soft but powerful moans and groans as you both teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Gripping your ass, Bateman responded to your actions with the same passion, devouring every drop of your flavor and giving you no chance to escape, his strong arms like ropes around your body. After giving his cock the attention it deserved, you decided to tease his heavy balls with light lapping on them, before slipping a finger inside his tight ass, you expected him to protest but instead you heard him moan and the next moment his hips began to move towards your penetrating movements.

"Good boy," you praised him, rolling your eyes at the way the man was sucking on your most sensitive spot. "Taking my finger so well..."

The coil in your lower abdomen was about to snap at any moment, but you still wanted more, you wanted to feel that cock inside you, even if it was going to rip you a apart. Breathlessly, you didn't even remember asking him about condoms, and how you managed to get out of bed and go to the closet, where you found a little box Bateman was talking about—its contents almost made you gasp in awe, so you decided to take it with you.

"Well, well," you crooned as you stepped back into the bedroom. "Should I ask you what this is or are you going to tell me?"

With a wide grin, you held out a large purple dildo, Patrick's eyes twitched and he gulped, leaning on his elbows. "I... I use it with hookers," the man confessed, licking his glistening lips covered with your juices. "Why?"

"Hmmm, you like watching women play with it?" You asked as you reached the bed. "How about actually using it and not just watching?"

Damn, you could swear you saw his breath catch in his throat, his muscles tense and his dick throbbing just at the mention of using that sex toy on him. 'So he likes that idea, what a naughty boy,' you chuckled to yourself and took your place on the bed next to him. "This is going to feel so good, baby," you brought the dildo to his lips, suggesting that he lick it for lubrication, and when he did, you could barely keep yourself from cumming, just from the sight of his tongue flicking around the tip of the silicone sex toy. "Get on your knees and let me take care of you."

"Fuck," Bateman cursed, but it was too late to turn back. Embarrassed but extremely aroused, the man got down on all fours and gave you full access to his firm ass, which you immediately fondled, spreading his buttocks and biting them one by one. "Mmh-hmm, (y/n)."

"Relax," you stroked his hips, kissing the lower part of his back just above the dimples that were too sexy to ignore. "God, you have such a beautiful body," you decided to praise him, knowing the effect it would have on him. "I would worship it forever if I could," which was only half true, or maybe...it was not. Leisurely, you showered his soft skin with little peaks here and there, dotting it with your marks of love, not even realizing that you were giving all of yourself to the process.

As you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered muscle ring, Patrick tensed at your touch, gripping the sheets and closing his eyes, so overwhelmed and confused at the same time, but your reassuring hand on his trembling one encouraged him to look back at you as you hovered over him to kiss his lips, his neck, his shoulder.

"(Y/n)," Bateman suddenly huffed through his clenched teeth. "I want you to..." he gasped as you flickered your wet finger around his tight asshole. "...fuck."

"You want me to feast on that delicious ass of yours?" You finished the sentence for him, grinning in pure gratification at his complete submission. "Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, y-yes," he grasped the sheets and positioned himself more comfortably on all fours— a clear sign that he was not used to this position and you couldn't miss it. "I want to feel your tongue... all over me."

"Shit, Bateman, you're a real sweet talker." With that you put the dildo on the bed next to you and before you knew it you were spreading his ass cheeks wide open to make a flat lick along his tight hole. "I wanna hear you," you gently but insistently probed his ass with your warm tongue, giving him several slaps on the buttocks that drove the man wild as you felt his velvet walls tighten around your tongue. "Good boy, c'mon, spread it out for me."

Blushing, Patrick used both hands to spread himself for your eager ministrations as you fucked him with your tongue while your hands traveled all around his hips before you wrapped one of them around his pulsating cock, fuck, he was so close, you could tell by the way his balls tensed when you gave them a slight squeeze.

"Don't cum until I let you," you commented and the next moment you were already pushing the sleek sex toy into his ass and this time he accepted it gradually, taking it in with ease—the sight made you gasp but you focused on giving him pleasure. "Tell me, Bateman, how does it feel?"

The question remained unanswered for a brief moment as you began to slid the dildo in and out, stimulating his prostate and causing him to shake and whimper in pure bliss, but when you decided to add fuel to the fire by jerking him off and sucking on his strained sac, Patrick could barely contain himself, his legs about to give way at any moment.

"F-fuck, a-aahhh, mmhhmm," he murmured into the pillow, his hands finding their way to your messy hair, gripping them almost to the point of pain. "I...c-can't...hold...it any longer," Bateman's wailing bounced off the walls of his luxurious bedroom, which had never seen anything like it before. "I..."

Though you wanted him to last longer, you were too overwhelmed yourself, feeling the string in your belly ready to burst. "Let it go," your words were like a balm to his ears as, just a moment later, his cock pulsed in your grasp, spraying loads of his thick cum across the Chinese sheets that Patrick had always been so fond of. "That's it…" You didn't stop fucking him with a dildo, nor did you stop pumping his throbbing dick, milking it until the last drop of his seed. "Good boy, you're such a good boy." 

Panting, you pulled out the sex toy, covered in his slick, and brought it to his trembling lips, inducing him to suck it before taking it into your mouth, feeling the mixture of tastes on the tip of your tongue. Then, Bateman rolled onto his back, desperately gasping for air, his cock still hard. That was fucking phenomenal, but you didn't comment, thinking about your own orgasm at last. Locking your eyes with Patrick's hazel ones, you touched yourself the moment he beckoned you over, and without words, you mounted his flushed, sweaty face, riding it as desperately as you could, using his tongue and lips without shame. Tilting your head back, you grabbed his head and almost clawed at his scalp, feeling your insides about to fucking explode from the tension. So when you peaked, your scream could be heard all over Bateman's apartment. The orgasms you had before were nothing compared to this. It took everything from you, it made you die and rise again.

The final chord of the parade of shameless lust was when you let him fuck you in a way you didn't even expect. Spooning you from behind after he put the condom on, the man lifted your leg and sheathed himself inside of you till the hilt, making you feel so full you had to wrinkle the fabric underneath, but that was just the beginning as Bateman pulled you closer, trapping you in his arms like a cocoon, his tongue sliding around your ear shell with undisguised affection,

"Mmhmm, fuck, you're...so perfect," the man whispered into your ear, setting up the pace and resting his hand between your legs for extra stimulation. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming again, omh-shit..."

"Fuck m-me, yeah, just...l-like that...a-ahhh," you coaxed him to fuck you harder as you suddenly found yourself on the verge of climaxing again. "Gimme everything, baby, a-awww...goshhhhhhhh," you were the first to fall over the principle of pleasure, twitching along his body as if you were hit by the electric shock, all your nerves were on fire. "Bateman, mmhm-fuck-fuck! Your dick feels s-so good.."

Your vivid orgasm became the last straw for his second release as you felt him bite at your neck, his buffed frame shaking in spasms of pure rapture, you even had to hold back a scream from how painfully Patrick's hands squeezed your hips, but it was pleasurable pain of being ruined, of being fucked into a wet mess. Barely breathing, you didn't even remember how you passed out from exhaustion and for the first time in the last few days you fell asleep completely satisfied and happy.

When the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds into Bateman's bedroom, you were already awake, as was he, but since you were lying with your back to his face, you didn't notice until the man kissed your shoulder, snuggled up against your neck, and made you roll over to face him.

As you did so, you dared to look directly into the brown eyes still clouded by the aftermath of your shared pleasure. "Hey." He muttered in a husky voice.

"Hey," you murmured back, hugging the pillow. "Did you sleep well?"

“Surprisingly—yes," the man stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and checking himself in the mirror on the other side of the room, which you hadn't even noticed. "(Y/n), I want you to go to the office and tell everyone that you're not going anywhere."

Shocked, you blinked several times, not knowing what to say as you hadn't expected anything like this.

With a nervous chuckle that turned into a hearty laugh, you rolled onto your back before sitting up on the bed. "Oh God, you're such a little Delulu, it's even funny," you looked at him—his face was nothing but a blank space without any visible emotions. "Did you really think that random sex would change my mind about changing jobs?" You chuckled again, louder this time. "I mean, the sex was really good, but... it's not like I'm going to give everything for this, you know?" With that, you got up from the bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself. "Can I take a shower?”

Trapped in the thought that only he could know, Patrick rolled onto his back, his eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the ceiling above him. "Yes," he murmured, barely audible. "Do whatever you want."

Walking towards the bathroom, you suddenly stopped and turned half around. "You better forget it," you said, savoring every word and finally returning the favor. "Maybe ask Paul Allen for advice," you grinned as you watched Bateman close his eyes in a feeble attempt to distance himself from everything that had happened. "Maybe he knows something about memory reboot machines that can help."

Without waiting for his answer, you continued on your way to the bathroom. Even though you were pleased with yourself, your revenge didn't taste sweet, but bitter, and its bitterness would remain on the tip of your tongue even after you washed yourself clean under the hot streams of water.

But the game was worth the candle, as they said.

Was it?

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!