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specialgradefckr · 5 months ago

Text

Heatwave: Day 2

tw: explicit content. 5k+ words. yuta/reader. female!alpha!reader, alpha!yuta, reader has a knot but also a vag. very barely dubcon, masturbation, fingering. mostly lots of pining. also light curse!rika/reader, but no monsterfucking (yet. curse!rika would 1000% hit it tho)

listen... it's not very smutty but read the fic. just read the fic. you're a tsundere and yuta and his curse girlfriend are smitten with you. it's really cute i promise.

Prompt: An Alpha finds themselves exhibiting omega traits in front of a stronger alpha.

Female alphas were less common than male ones, but they were common enough for there to be stereotypes about them.

Scary girls. Big girls. Strong independent women who didn’t need no men, ate pretty omega boys for breakfast.

There was a certain type of alpha – exclusively male, sometimes beta men were like this too – that saw a kind of challenge to it.

These sorts of dudes were obsessed with ‘alpha pussy’, swore it was tighter and hotter than any omega hole ever could be.

Never mind that there were some omegas who couldn’t take large knots without training, and anyone who wasn’t an omega needed a lot of practice before trying to take any knot at all.

It wasn’t about realism with these assholes. It was some weird, self-fellating bullshit about having made another alpha their bitch, being the alpha to another alpha.

Asshole alphas, that’s a good way to put it. A bunch of fuckwads who thought only with their knots and their egos.

Each and every one of them thought they were god’s gift to creation because they were alphas, born special and better than everyone else, all that garbage.

Yuta isn’t an asshole, but he is, shockingly enough, an alpha.

He’s a nice boy – maybe the nicest alpha you’ve ever met.

Makes it all the funnier that you get paired up with him on missions so often; the scary alpha girl and the gentle alpha boy.

You’d doubt his identity, too, if you didn’t know better. But you can smell it on him all the same. Unmistakable. Alpha.

And he’s strong, really strong, probably stronger than you, though the thought rankles.

Special grade, you’d heard – mostly because of the cursed spirit that hangs out with him.

But it’s not the spirit you smell when you sneak a discreet whiff of the scarf he’d left on the bench this one time. It’s an alpha, through and through.

It’s not the spirit that darts into the field on missions before you can, places himself between you and danger without even thinking about it.

Carves destruction with a graceful, brutal blade and then turns back to you with a sheepish smile asking if you’re all right.

He’s so… gentle. Careful. You’re not even sure he can get angry.

The closest you’d ever seen him to it was when a curse popped up behind you on a mission, while he was occupied with a special grade of his own on the other side of the room.

You’d seen a barrier appear in an instant, which must have been his domain expansion, and only a few seconds later the curse he’d been fighting was gone and the curse that ambushed you was impaled on his blade.

Even with blood on his face, he’d smiled at you.

Eyes shut, voice warm with sincerity, but the air was filled with a tense note of danger, barely constrained threat… just not towards you.

Somehow, you want to see more.

Prodding at Yuta Okkotsu is no easy task.

He’s about the most mild-mannered person you’ve ever met, and half-terrified that someone mistreating him would get on the bad side of the cursed spirit who hangs around him.

But you’re determined, and there’s not a lot that can stop you when you put your mind to it.

Alphas had a personal bubble – just like everyone else – and when another alpha gets into it, it usually sets them off.

You start to invade Yuta’s space; first, in small ways.

Leaning in when you hand him a soda, sitting a touch too close on a bench, lingering whenever one of you pins the other during sparring.

There’s a flush on his darling face, a tightening of his features as you see him catch your scent and react to your proximity before he represses the reaction completely.

But soon enough, that doesn’t phase him at all.

You've gotta hand it to him. That's some real control.

Soon he’s touching your hand when you pass him things, you can lean against him while you sit next to each other and he doesn’t bat an eye.

Neither does that supposedly scary curse of his, for that matter.

You see her, once, on a mission. A curse sneaking up behind you (it wouldn’t have been able to hurt you anyways) and you catch her, the curse Yuta normally keeps so carefully hidden.

Massive. Magnificent.

It’s not something you’d normally say about a curse but Rika comes with a scent all her own, fresh and woodsy pine, pricking at your senses while a gaping maw of sharp teeth closes around some pitiful lesser creature.

The blood splatters, on the floor, on her ‘face’. She has no eyes you can see, but you feel her gaze on you anyways. Heavy in the midst of the silence, until Yuta’s panicked voice rings out, and she disappears completely.

Pine lingers in your senses.

That’s not what Yuta smells like, though.

He smells so little, actually, so heavily repressed that you’re not surprised most people think he’s a beta. But your senses are better than most, and you can detect it.

Faint. Warm. Almost… oily? Like olive oil, maybe, something humble and smooth, but unexpectedly decadent.

Like the scent of a lone burning candle in an old shrine, not quite dusty, but with a book-like scent that came with ink and paper.

It’s hard to detect. You need to get closer to really pin it down.

Yuta’s physical abilities are weak, after all, so it’s easy to make up excuses to spar with him. More and more, since you can tell he’s no longer uncomfortable with you in his space.

One fine winter morning, you catch the opportunity you want.

A tumble on the ground (he was always so afraid of Rika coming out, but she never did when he fought you), a little scuffle that leaves the adorable gentleman alpha flushed and flustered, and you manage to snag his scarf off of him.

In the pocket of his jacket you leave him something in return; a band not quite large enough to be a scarf that you’d used to tie your hair.

It should have plenty of your scent on it, enough to make him sniff the air once or twice before he figured out it was there.

The thought pleases you. Like you can tease him a little bit at some random moment throughout the day, without even being there.

It’s five whole days before Yuta returns it to you.

His face a touch bashful, even though he must have known full well that you’d slipped it into his coat yourself. Eyes downcast, as if afraid to meet yours; Yuta Okkotsu, the special-grade terror.

He doesn’t ever ask for the scarf back.

Not that you remember it. It’s just sitting on your desk. You barely think about it.

It just happens that it still has his scent on it, but that makes sense.

It would have been in contact with his scent glands every day, wrapped around his neck like a collar. Like a warm embrace.

You don’t touch it, so it still smells like him. Warm and welcoming.

He’s really not much of an alpha.

After you spar, he always compliments you, careful to note any potential weaknesses between bits of lavish praise. His shadowed, dark eyes sparkle a touch when he tells you, a warm smile on his lips.

Yuta’s always doing that, complimenting people. You’ve never known him to disparage anyone. Never a bad word for a single person you’d met.

So kind. What kind of alpha is this sweet?

Somewhere deep down, though, you know. A real leader, someone people trust and rely on, a friend who would cross oceans for you, move mountains, if it would help you out even a little.

Sweet boy, like cotton candy. Comforting like a warm candle on a cold winter night.

So bright even thought Yuta looks like the gloomiest boy alive. Sometimes when you think of him your tongue runs over your lips, like you’re hungry for more.

You push him further.

You don’t avoid him when you’re close to your rut. In fact you make a point to be near him, get into his space.

Sure, you’d invaded it plenty now, but with your scent oozing out of you, pheromones heavy in the air screaming breed, breed, breed, and you figure something in Yuta will crack.

You never stop to think about whether or not you want it to.

It’s on a nice, sunny day that it happens. The most embarrassing moment of your entire existence.

Pre-rut is a bit brutal but you’re down to tough it out. Sparring with Yuta always helps, anyways.

You’re especially snarky, too, like you get during your rut, eager to taunt, to get more out of him.

“C’mon Yuta, that’s not all you’ve got, right? Ask your curse girlfriend for help, I’ll bet she knows how to lay it out.” Adrenaline fuels your heated banter as you watch Yuta pointedly avert his gaze, “You’re flinching and I’m barely hitting you.”

“I can do it,” He almost grumbles, but you think you see a shadow behind him, or maybe you just imagine it, lurking and eager to jump out, “And she woul- Rika is strong.”

The hormones are bad, though. Getting your body heavy with sweat and panting, moving around, lashing out at him, striking, grappling…

“That’s more like it!”

“You can take this much? Then - I’ll do even more!”

Who the fuck are you kidding. It’s the most fun you’ve had in weeks.

Yuta’s strong, stronger than almost anyone you know, he’s right in front of you, so close you can smell you can touch you get your hands on him and he on you and you’re rolling, rolling through the grass –

Yuta pins you, heavy breaths breezing over you, carrying the warm rich smell of him in your senses.

Sweat dripping down his forehead, mouth wide open, you can almost taste it (taste what?).

His eyes are dark and deep and beautiful and they look down at you like –

He’s looking at you like –

His lips curl upwards into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, your heart skips ten beats and you – you just feel so warm –

underneath him – the comforting weight of his body against yours – that delectable smell dripping over you – his arms around you, holding you –

You cough out a noise you think is a laugh. Yuta tilts his head to the side with fondness written all over his face.

“That was a pretty heavy bout – good job!” He beams down at you, voice is full of praise pouring over you like liquid gold, “Are you alright?”

You open your mouth to tell him you are, and to your horror, you realize the noise you make. You’re purring.

Instantly your face is set on fire.

“I.” oh god. What. What the fuck, “I’m…” Your voice breaks in a rumble.

Oh god this is so weird, alphas don’t purr at other alphas, what’s wrong with you – “Yeah! Fine!”

You say it too loudly and it shows. Yuta’s so close to you there’s no way he can’t tell what’s happening.

Even otherwise, your voice is cracking like some kind of hormonal teenage boy and you just.

Evacuate. Evacuate immediately.

Your hands fly up to Yuta’s chest and you try desperately not to notice how surprisingly well-built he is as you shove him up and off you.

He offers no resistance, stepping up and offering you a hand which you ignore in favor of sprinting off, like a guilty person would do.

Seriously? Seriously? This would go down in history as the day your dignity died.

Where was your pride as an alpha? Where was your – your anything, to be honest.

Why the fuck had you just?? Gone so completely gooey and melty underneath him when he smiled at you like that?

Even thinking back on it heats your face. Then again, the whole thing was super embarrassing, so your face was hot anyways.

It occurs to you, walking back to your room in great shame, that you weren’t actually worried about anyone finding out about this, just that it had happened.

Alphas don’t usually purr unless they’ve just knotted someone and they want them to feel good.

And omegas would typically only purr at close family members or intended mates; a lazy sign of comfort and peace, and very occasionally, a come-hither-I’m-feeling-frisky signal to their alpha.

Whatever conclusion could be made about you purring at Yuta from underneath him… there was no option that wasn’t utterly humiliating.

But you only had to worry about what Yuta would think.

You knew Yuta wouldn’t breathe a word about this. Probably not even if someone held a knife to his throat (not that they could… special grade and all).

…you start to feel kinda bad now, actually.

No matter how you’d poked or prodded, Yuta Okkotsu hadn’t snapped at you.

Unflinching in his kindness. Eager to help always, with a hand or some friendly advice. Protective and powerful, never hesitating to put himself between you and danger.

You’d been inching into his space. Stealing his things. Taunting him during practice.

Honestly, if someone else acted like this to you, you’d call them a pest. You wouldn’t smile at them. Not like that.

Yuta must’ve been some kind of saint in a past life, if nothing you’ve done bothers him at all.

It’s weird. It’s all weird. Alphas aren’t like this, neither of you should be like this.

It gets worse. It all gets worse, so much worse.

Your rut is in full swing now, burning through you, searing holes in every ounce of sanity you ever thought you had. Nothing is sacred anymore, nothing is off-limits. There’s no shame left and no restraint.

The most heinous ideas flit through your mind, little flashes, lewd imagery of holes to fuck into and knots to squeeze, the tight press of flesh on flesh and dark eyes and lips that curve so gently upwards.

A scent that flutters just at the edge of your senses like the well-worn pages of familiar book.

The best you can do is stop yourself from crying out. The images get clearer, until there’s no denying what they are.

Yuta, on his hands and knees.

All spread apart.

Above you.

Below.

Smiling gently. Whispering words into your ear.

His lean form, the sleek musculature you know from so many fits of sparring, finally bared for you to feast your eyes. “Do you like it, alpha?”

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. Every fiber of your being cries out. The throbbing between your legs is unbearable.

“Do you want it?”

Never wanted anything more.

“You’re such a good alpha. I’m glad.”

Just the thought of the words, in his voice, draws a moan from your lips.

You want him. Want want want want WANT you NEED him where is he where can you find him? You’re going to hunt him down and –

The last remaining threads of your sanity grant you a burst of intuition.

A detail you’d never really forgotten:

The scarf on your desk. The one you hadn’t touched, hadn’t made smell like you. It should still smell like him.

Wait. Wait. What are you, some omega jerking off to the scent of your fucking crush –

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Crush. Okkotsu.

But you can’t get yourself to think about how that’s wrong, can’t convince yourself to deny anything when a pulsing, throbbing sensation between your legs screams mate mate my mate all mine –

Stumbling, staggering, all the way to the desk. Arm reaching out while you’re bent over and panting and nearly whining in your need.

Fuck. Pathetic, so pathetic.

And then you hold the scarf to your face, clutched in your hand like a lifeline. The scent of it is faint and inexplicably cozy, pure relief flooding through you.

It brings you to your knees. The ache between your legs demands attention and your other hand rushes to meet it, jerking and rubbing against your sexes while you sniffle and tear up.

Ruts suck when you spend them alone but this is better and worse than anything you’d ever experienced.

Bucking up into your hands, breathing in his scent like you can fill him in your lungs, inhale him like a cigarette and finally get rid of the pounding demand in your brain.

Every breath feels shallow, every grind against your hand only seems to make you hotter and hotter.

The ache in your core feels like being tugged around, demanding jerks of painful pleasure that don’t get you there, don’t get you what you need.

It’s all you can do to whimper and nuzzle into his scarf.

The primitive side of you urges you to pull it between your legs leg him take care of you, good mate, good alpha, let him feel you there, but your arm locks in place so you can keep breathing the scent like a lifeline.

When you finally do cum, you’re more exhausted than anything, spurting pitifully out over your hands and knees, knot bulging uselessly against your lower belly.

It leaks, slowly, painfully, as if to give you time to think about what you’ve done.

You decide you’d really rather not. Sliding a drawer open to pull out a toy, another toy, three of them, even – enough to overstimulate yourself to high hell, to keep every thought of Yuta and his scent out of your brain.

A vibrator in any hole you could fit it in, against anything that throbbed or ached. A fleshlight to fuck into, one a size too small just to make it hurt more.

Way less lubricant than you could have used, but somehow, your cunt leaks more than enough for all of it.

All to just barely stop the fantasies of a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a smile and a scent like the sun.

Without a doubt it’s the most miserable rut you’ve ever had.

You’re raw, red, and sore by the end of it and all you can feel is barely concealed rage at your own self for putting you through this shit.

You don’t even know if you’re mad that you fucked up, or that you’re crushing this fucking hard on a really nice dude you’ve been antagonizing for weeks.

As soon as your rut ends, you steal another one of Yuta’s scarves.

You don’t give him anything in return this time.

Yuta likes women; this is something he’s known for a while.

It’s not until recently that he’s come to terms with the fact that he exclusively likes alpha women. He has you and Maki to thank for that.

In retrospect, considering his first love was a strong-willed young girl who proposed to him, it should probably have been more obvious.

Lucky for him, Rika also has a taste for alpha women, and she likes you much better than she liked Maki.

To be perfectly honest, it was Rika who liked you first.

The Rika he knew had passed on. The Rika beside him now is a curse that grew alongside him; in the image of his loved one, distorted and massive in all its malevolent glory.

She listened to him, for the most part, but perhaps because of some baser instincts of his – or perhaps some left-over preferences from Rika herself – she treats you with a particular affection.

You offer him a drink, moving just a touch too close to hand it over, and he feels Rika hum in approval.

His eyes glance over you unwillingly, your scent faint in his nose. It’s not as harsh as another alpha’s scent normally would be, either, which should have been his first warning.

Whenever you get close – too close, so much that it has to be on purpose – it’s almost overwhelming, so many emotions fluttering through him that he swears he can hear Rika giggling.

She likes it, too. You’re like fresh soil, like morning dew, the rainfall on a summer’s day.

He can tell, after one day he catches you right before your rut, wrestling with him, pinned underneath him and purring; you like him, too.

And then, he fucks it all up.

“Hey,” He calls you out by name and you turn back, meeting his eyes and walking back up to him.

The immediate response causes something dark and warm to burst in his chest; Rika purrs invisibly in his mind.

You try not to show it but you’re pleased when he calls out to you. He can smell it on you, happy pheromones that let him know you’re pleased he’s asked for you.

Not unlike an omega, and that thought really sets him going.

All this time you spent playing coy. Teasing him then running away, even from your own feelings.

You want him so bad but you’re so nervous, and seeing someone so strong and beautiful be so anxious about your want for him drives him completely and utterly insane.

It’s not like you’re cowardly, like he could be, sometimes.

You’re strong, you always give him a fight when you spar, you take the losses like a champ –

You would take his knot so so well RIKA PLEASE STOP THAT RIGHT NOW.

Now you’re staring at him, blushing like a schoolgirl, waiting for him to speak to you. So cute. So cute.

He’d caught you stealing his scarf again, you never gave any of it back. Are you building a nest? Do you like his scent like he likes yours?

Licking his lips, Yuta asks, “You’re – you’re an alpha, right?”

Oh. Oh, he should not have said that.

The surprise that flits across your face, and then the outrage, they tell him the same thing –

But his body receives a very different message, cock jumping in his pants at the scent.

All those times you’d sparred with him had trained him to get hard when you got in his space like this. Your scent wasn’t a threat, but a delicacy, and in his chest a rumble stuttered along with Rika.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, Okkotsu?”

Oh. Family name. You were really mad.

He could tell his face had already fallen by how you looked torn between pity and anger.

An apology lurched to stutter out through his lips, but instead –

Instead –

On the tip of his tongue, the edge of his senses –

“Are you… wet?” It sounds like a question, but that’s sheer politeness on his part.

He can smell it on betas as well as omegas, so it made sense that he could smell it on a female alpha, too.

Your face is hot, bright red, and so, so darling.

He can tell Rika is as thrilled to see it as he is, that she longs to reach out with one of her massive claws and clutch around your shapely waist, hold you in place for him to –

“What the fuck? Okkotsu?!”

Oh no. No no no no no no no. No! “Rika! Rika, don’t hurt her!”

She’s not hurting you. She would never hurt you.

This is probably worse.

“Hurt me? Fucking – ff – hng,” Yuta can’t stop the lurch in his gut, the wave of pure arousal that washes over him at the sound you make, “Get her off me, Okkotsu, you – ”

Your face is so red. Your scent. Your scent. It’s perfuse, a strong, tangy thing, delicious, he’d grown addicted to it and wasn’t that your fault?

Didn’t you do this to him, on purpose? Don’t you want him like this?

Slipping him little tastes here and there, shoving it in his face all the time.

Passing him a sample while you sneakily stole his scarf, hoarding his scent like a needy little omega?

Teasing him, getting in his face while you were in rut?

Purring at him when he pinned you underneath him?

Flushing when he called out to you, looking back, running up to him eagerly like an obedient, darling thing?

Yuta thought he liked alpha women, and he does.

But it looks like he especially likes alpha women who go all soft and squishy for him without saying as much, squirming and blustering and making faces like they’d like to eat him as soon as they thought he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t be upset.” His hands roam down to your sides. He doesn’t miss how you jerk at the contact. “I asked so I could help. Are you wet?” He says your name, a dark fire in his eyes.

You watch his tongue dark between his lips. Bite back a whimper. “Help me how? What’s – what’s she doing?”

“Helping me help you.” If you don’t want to tell, he’ll just check for himself.

His hands are cold, though, and you can’t stop the high gasp that escapes you when his hands dig under your waistband.

He murmurs a soft apology and the curse behind you chitters, chilled claws carefully wrapped around your torso.

Yuta drags your shorts and panties down in one motion, cooing softly at you when you shriek, one hand caressing your shoulder while Rika purrs, pressing herself up against your back.

Filling your senses with pine and Yuta’s oil, a scent like fire that burns to behold.

Warms you like sunlight.

“Yuta-” Even you weren’t sure what you were going to say, but his fingers between your legs send your brain for a complete loop. “I – what are you – we’re in – ”

“I put up a veil,” Yuta says, like (he knows) that was your only real objection.

Or maybe he’s lying. Yuta could tell you he was wearing Ryomen Sukuna’s underwear and you’d believe him, as long as he looked at you like that.

The smile you love so much is hungry, now, with those eyes dark with desire, with a curse clawing at you tenderly, like she just can’t let you go for even a second. Churning pleased little noises with every press and flex of her massive fingers around you.

Fingers darting to spread open your folds, even as you squirm. Bared in broad daylight with Yuta right in front of you.

Circling your hole while he looks you in the eyes, pressed close enough to hear you whine.

“I knew you were wet,” He murmurs, in a soft voice that sends liquid heat dripping down your legs, “Could smell it.”

Yuta leans in. He’s so pretty, so handsome, such a dark and darling thing with those heavy, soulful eyes.

He’s so close that when he whispers your name, you feel it on your lips. “You smell so good.”

He didn’t sound this hot even in your daydreams. He’s so close. So close. His breath ghosts over you like a curse hanging on your shoulder.

Your mouth falls open. Watering, like your cunt. Desperate for a taste.

And maybe you’re still an alpha after all, because finally, finally, you dive in and take what you want.

He tastes as rich on your lips as he’s smelled, soft and oiled and coating your senses. Blotting out everything until all you know is him.

Him, teasing over your clit with careful strokes. Growling into the kiss like he’s warning you not to pull back, Rika pressing you forward like you’re two dolls she can’t wait to smash together.

Arms dart out to his shoulders to steady yourself as he dips his fingertips into your entrance. Generous, broad strokes over your folds he spreads your arousal all over, returning to rub at your clit as he pulls away.

It’s good. So good. The oncoming pleasure builds and builds slowly with his ministrations, pooling heavily in your lower half. The urge to buck into it overtakes you, writhing for more friction as sparks begin to fly against your clit, closer, closer –

And then it’s you who can’t look away, locked in place under his gaze. “You’re going to cum for me? Do you want to?”

God it’s so fucking close, tears blot your eyes as you jerk into his fingers, and Yuta doesn’t even try to deny you.

He smiles at you, carefree. He already has his prey in front of him, unable to escape, uninterested in even trying.

You give him a feverish nod. “Will you tell me so? I want to hear you.”

Just a little faster, just a little more, more, “More please, please, make me cum –”

An exhale of a breath you hadn’t known he was holding, diving in towards your neck, nuzzling against your scent. Burying your face in his shoulder where his own was strongest.

It’s that breath that puts you over the edge, fast strokes of his fingers finally igniting the heavy pleasure pent up in your lower belly, the scent of him pouring over you.

You cum with a cry, mouthing at his neck just to soothe yourself, to taste him.

You feel the wetness of his tongue on your own scent glands. Hot. Drooling. He suckles at your taste, soft lips pressed to bare, vulnerable skin, and you let your head roll to the side to give him more.

All you can feel now is warmth. Warmth and Yuta’s familiar scent that makes your insides twist, the aftershocks still shuddering through you, twitching in his hold like some pitiful creature.

Every muscle in your body relaxes, and it’s only Rika’s grasp on you keeping you up. Fortunately, she’s strong. So strong.

Her head nestles into your shoulder, scenting you. Sweet, chilling pine on your sweaty skin. She purrs you through the bliss, cool against your body caught against Yuta’s own.

There’s a hilariously awkward moment where the two of you start catching your breath. Yuta looks flushed, handsome, as lovely as ever.

Still, his eyes find yours. He smiles. He’s always smiling at you, you’ve started to realize.

The thought makes you happy.

You like it. You like it a lot. Like him.

He’s even better than the fantasies.

“I’m going into rut,” Yuta says. “Because of… this.”

You swallow. “Oh. Okay.”

It’s hard to think too much about it, when the heat in your core is still dissipating, face burning up while you have yet to regain control of your limps

And between the two of you, Yuta must be the real alpha, because he’s the one who goes and just says it already.

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Your… your rut?”

“Yes. I want you to spend it with me.” He’s so close. You can feel the heat of his breath between you. "If you want."

A pause. You try, oh lord, do you try, to gather your thoughts for just one moment. “Are you going to try and mark me?”

“Can I?” His eyes are too light, too eager, the words too quick to fall from his lips.

Alphas don’t ask for permission like puppies begging for treats. But Yuta, your Yuta, he’s already pleading with his eyes.

“Maybe you should be more worried about me marking you.”

“Would you?” Barely contained excitement oozes from him, from his pheromones to his bright expression.

You think you hear Rika giggle behind you. Pleased. Razor teeth ghosting over your ear in a little kiss, as if to urge you forth.

It’s working. If you fuck this boy, you’re gonna bite him.

You’re going to sink your teeth into him the first chance you get, make him yours yours all yours forever and have him every way he can bend, mark him up until he fucks you back into submission.

You’ll fuck him and fuck his curse girlfriend, too.

But it would be weird to just say it, right?

“Maybe.”

He laughs at that.

Oh. Yuta’s always been pretty good at reading between the lines, hasn’t he?

Or, you think as he leans in for a kiss, forehead pressed to yours – maybe he was just good at reading you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha!yuta #alpha x alpha #this is fluffier than you think #you're kinda tsundere it's really cute actually #mutual pining #i liked writing the banter/interactions more than i liked writing the smut actually. does it show?#rika x reader #yuta smut #yuuta smut

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago

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hello bunny! Can I please request Sugar pie and Churros with a side of Tonic water for Daniel? Thank youu <3

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want to submit your own order? hit up the menu! i'd love to see what you want to order! i do for other fandoms besides formula one so feel free to hit me with whatever you got! as for this lovely customer @formula1au thank you for the order! i hope you love it! enjoy!

sugar pie (“gonna let daddy hear ya?”) + churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + tonic water (age gap) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), daddy kink, dirty talk, bratty!reader, fingering, clothed male/naked female, power dynamic, thigh riding

you sat on the edge of the bed with your arms crossed. you frowned at him as he stood in front of you. you may have been a total brat today, in that short skirt and low cut top. your bright giggles on the paddock as you were just so sweet to the rest of the team.

daniel had to remind you who you belonged to. which was why you were stripped out of the slutty clothes that he bought for you and made to sit on the edge of the bed. daniel had close to ten years on you, of course he thought that he had to make sure that you got out of your bratty phase and become a proper woman. after all, that's what daddies were for.

"what did i say about going around the paddock in that skirt? i told you that most of the men wouldn't be as nice as me. are you trying to rile me up? get yourself in trouble?" he took your chin in his hand and looked down at you. his gaze was oppressive and made something curl in your gut.

"no, daddy. i wasn't trying to do anything stupid! you told me to bring it! you said you wanted me to look nice! so i thought that i would look nice in it! it's not fair that you're being so mean to me, daddy!"

he covered your mouth with his large hand, cutting off the air through your nose and mouth. he said, "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

you nodded and your bottom lip wobbled. you hated being in trouble with daniel. you were supposed to be a good girl for him. and maybe he was right, wearing the pink skirt to the paddock would only get you in more trouble than not.

daniel took his hand away and looked down at you. he even got down on his knee to be more at your level, "you don't understand, honey. most men aren't nice like me. they could hurt you, i only want what's best for you. i asked you to bring it so i could watch you in it in our hotel room. it was meant for my eyes only."

you reached for him and pouted more.

“gonna let daddy hear ya?” he asked, testing to see if you were more agreeable now. or were you going to run your mouth like a motor.

you replied, "i'm sorry daddy, i should've asked before we left."

he smiled and reached for you once more, crowding your space as he got you onto your back on the bed. he was still clothed and the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your achy cunt. you had a thing for older men who spoiled you and talked down to you.

daniel didn't do it often, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you or dampen any joy you carried. it would be blacking out a star, but he had to be a responsible daddy. and if you were going to not think, then he'd have to think for both of you. right?

he continued to rub his clothed thigh up against your sloppy cunt. it would only encourage you to keep acting up if he fucked you. and he can't have that, brats don't get rewards.

he pulled away from you and patted his clothed thigh, "if you want it, you'll have to earn it." he smiled at you, the kind of smile that he showed the cameras. but when he flashed it to you, it felt a little dangerous.

you let out a small noise before you got on his strong thigh and held onto his hip as you rubbed yourself up against his leg. you felt like a dog. like a bitch as you moved against him. you let out a small noise as you felt the denim stimulate your achy pussy.

you looked amazing in daniel's eyes. he laid back with his hands behind his head as he admired your beauty. how did he get so lucky? he met you by total accident, but now you were, his beautiful baby girl, with your sticky pussy up against his thigh.

you left wetness across the jean and that only turned him on further. you were like an excitable little puppy as you rode his thigh.

daniel loved the sight of this, his over excited little puppy doing anything to get herself off. it was painfully adorable, even as you whimpered and moaned, your back arched as the denim rubbed against your clit.

"desperate." he laughed as he moved his leg a little to push up further against you.

"please, please, daddy."

"that's what i like to hear, baby. my sweet baby girl." he felt his cock twitch in his jeans. he'd get to himself eventually, but he couldn't let yourself get greedy and cock drunk.

you'd take what he gave you, like a good girl.

he continued to let you rub against him, but his fingers itched for some action. he could see the mess you had made and it only made the whole thing so erotic.

"alright, you've made enough of a mess." he got you onto your back once more, pinned your hands above your head with one hand and started to drill his fingers into your messy cunt.

he could see the stain of your pussy wetness all over the thigh of his expensive jeans. not that you cared about the price, you only cared about getting yourself off.

dirty, dirty girl.

he continued to finger fuck you. you felt so good, so enticing. you were grabbing onto his strong forearm as he pushed his digits as far as they would go. he watched your squirm and moan through not, but two orgasms.

and that resulted in you just melting in the bed like the perfect girl that he knew you could be. when he took his fingers, he brought them to your lips and let you suck them clean.

when you were done, he patted your cheek with such tenderness and asked softly, "gonna be a good girl for me?"

and you looked back at him and said, "always, daddy."

the following week, daniel had to get to the track early. he was engrossed in a conversation with a member of staff when he heard the wolf whistle.

he looked over and saw you, somehow the skirt from last week had gotten even shorter. it showed off those pretty legs of yours, with those pink sunglasses concealing your eyes, but you were beaming in his direction.

you gave him a little wave and giggle, "hi, danny!"

daniel huffed then chuckled, oh you dirty little thing. you really were a glutton for punishment as you pressed your pretty breasts up against him. but, don't worry, daddy will make sure that you right your wrongs. and be a good girl <3

401 notes · View notes

faithlia · 28 days ago

Text

'But what the fuck is patience? part 2

matt x reader x chris

english is not my first language!

warnings: smut, mean!reader, mean!matt, dom!matt, threesome, NO INCEST!!!, virgin!chris, dom!chris, blowjob, degradation, rough sex, revenge sex, display, false sympathy, unprotected sex, dirty and depraved sex. (chris will be younger than matt).

- chris 20 years old; matt and reader 23 years old.

summary: You and Matt have a non-strings-attached sexual relationship, but when things don't go the way you plan, your provocations go away beyond your limits

⚠️ The behavior of all characters are immoral and depreved, if you dont feel comfortable, please, dont read!

part 2

The most fun part of Matt frustrating you is definitely when you go to his room begging for mercy so he can fuck you and let you cum, begging passively like a bitch in heat.

After leaving your dorm with a proud expression of having humiliated you, Matt walks to your dorm - which is across the hall. It was almost eleven at night. Matt fell into bed, exhausted, not even caring about his fingers dirty with your lube.

Before he could remember the calculus test that awaited him the next day, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep with the detached memory of your body against his.

── .✦

The next day, after a gigantic test and several unnecessary classes, Matt found Chris sitting in the cafeteria.

"Oh, hey. How was your first day?" he asks his younger brother, as he sits with his tray of food in his hands.

"It sucks, bro," Chris exclaims, his mouth full. "But I made some new friends, so that should make up for something."

"Relax, after a while it gets more and more unbearable with all the classes and the idiot teachers." Matt jokes and Chris feels his throat closing up.

Chris didn't want to admit it, but he was glad to be Matt's roommate. He really didn't want to go through an introduction session for a stranger or even have to share a room with anyone. He liked his space. Matt really did. He was even more of a recluse than Chris. And, well, playing video games and talking about all the nonsense in the world with his brother was something Chris really missed.

At night, already in his room, Chris asks: "Bro, where's the bathroom?" He wasn't that familiar with the buildings, the multiple doors and the huge hallways so this really confused him.

"What?" Matt says without paying attention. He's too busy doing who knows what on his phone. "The bathroom, idiot!" Chris exclaims, throwing a pillow at his brother's head.

"Ugh, fuck, it's the last door at the end of the hallway." Matt grumbles irritably, not taking his eyes off his phone, ignoring the pillow that hit his head.

Chris huffs, grabbing his towel and toothbrush.

He walks down the hallway, observing the several large dark oak doors. Damn, this place looks like fucking a horror movie set, he thought - frowning.

As Chris approaches the last door, he sees a guy in a towel coming out of it.

He steps into the humid space, thankful that it's empty, except that there's someone in the shower. He thought it might be another one of those idiotic seniors taking a shower.

He hunches over the sink, brushing his teeth, until, when he looks up in the mirror, he catches a longing glimpse of a naked female figure, stepping out of the shower stall.

Chris gasps, turning his face away from her. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I thought this was the men's room," he says quickly, avoiding looking at the mirror.

You laughed at his comment, not paying attention to the figure in front of you. As you dried yourself and wrapped the towel around your body, you muttered in boredom: "It's okay! The bathroom on this floor is unisex."

Chris let out a vague sigh, turning his gaze back to the mirror and staring at his own depressing image of shame.

He was probably some silly freshman, you thought. These guys never knew what to do or where to go and that irritated you a little.

Chris remained quiet, finished brushing his teeth, hoping the girl would get out of there as soon as possible.

Still without looking at the newbie in front of you, you walked to the mirror to look at yourself, and had the biggest surprise when your eyes met his.

That had to be a mirage! He looked exactly like Matt, except for appearing younger. And, well, he was handsome and hot. You smiled broadly, ecstatic, fascinated by the fact that there was another Matt in the world.

Why had Matt never told you about his brother? I mean, you weren't the best of friends forever, and the only ways you interacted were based on insulting each other and fucking, specifically in that order.

You thought about the fact that the only things you knew about Matt were that he was terribly bad at football and that he was allergic to human happiness.

Chris looked at you confused, trying his best to not remember about your naked body that he saw just a few seconds ago.

Your tongue touched the roof of your mouth and your eyebrows raised.

"Wow, you must be the most beautiful freshman on this campus." you comment, without any shame. Chris blushes and is embarrassed by the careless comment, and before he can open his mouth to say anything, you ask: "Is this your first day?" you interrupt him again: "It has to be. I mean, I would remember that pretty face if I had seen it before..." you look away from him to see your reflection, delicately fixing your hair.

Chris was embarrassed again. But what the hell was that senior doing talking to him like that? He shook his head, escaping from the inopportune thoughts.

"Yeah, um, I-I arrived on campus today." he swallows hard, sighing inaudibly. "My name is Chris." He says, immediately regretting it.

She didn't ask you anything, idiot.

"I'm y/n. I hope to see you more often, Chris."

You leave the locker room, leaving a perplexed and confused Chris alone.

He didn't know exactly how to react to what had just happened, but he couldn't deny that he loved having that girl talking to him.

When he went to take a shower, he had a vague memory of her naked body and immediately regretted it, because his dick soon hardened.

"Shit."

Masturbating in the bathroom on the first day of school? How pathetic.

── .✦

You couldn't help but think about Chris. He seemed adorable and the way he blushed at every word you said only made you more convinced to know more about him.

Matt hadn't texted you or broken into your room since the last time you saw him. What he did to you was diabolical and pathetic. But apparently, Chris could be the solution to this little problem his brother caused.

In the following days, bumping into Chris became a frequent occurrence. You would always see him in the library, in the hallway or wherever you went and, surprisingly, Matt didn't know anything about it.

Oh! yeah, about Matt! Well, he was too busy training or studying. He knew very well that at any moment you would knock on his door or send a risky message to fuck him. In fact, giving advance notice wasn't really your thing. You never let the place you were in get in the way of your fucking. One time, you went to the players' locker room, found a naked Matt taking a shower and simply couldn't resist sticking your needy pussy out and getting fucked by him in the middle of the room. But, for sure, Matt's favorite memory was when you decided to suck his dick in one of the empty classrooms with your breasts jutting out of your blouse.

It was only a matter of time before you spread your horny legs for him again.

But that didn't happen. You were having a great time with Chris, to be honest. He was so sweet and had a great sense of humor, unlike Matt, who you didn't plan on seeing any time soon.

You were grateful that Matt never saw you and Chris together knowing that if he did, it would ruin your plans. And Chris had never mentioned Matt in any of your conversations, which was a good thing.

Your imagination was wild when it came to Chris. You couldn't wait to kiss him and do amazing things to him. So far all you knew was that he was only 20 years old. Three years wasn't exactly a huge age gap but it kind of turned you on.

── .✦

There were a bunch of drunk college kids at the Kappa Delta fraternity and you were one of them. The loud music and strong drinks you had consumed without blinking had left you energetic enough to rub your ass against your friends and dance impulsively.

You caught a charming glimpse of Chris, who looked lost.

Wait, where's Matt?

Who the fuck cares, his hot brother is right here!

You pulled Chris by the hand into the middle of the crowd so you could dance with him and you loved the fact that he just accepted it, putting his hands on your waist.

Fuck. All that dancing and loud music and his body against yours was turning you on so fucking much. You couldn't help but push your ass out, subtly brushing against his covered dick. Chris didn't say anything, but he was lost in excitement - maybe it was the drinks he was drinking before he spotted you, and that kind of drained all his shyness out of his body.

His hands gripped your waist tighter, pressing you against his hard cock. A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Fuck that. You put one hand on Chris's face, pulling him into a wet kiss. He kissed you back with the same fervent feeling that ran down your entire body until it reached his needy cock. He was such a good kisser!

You didn't mind being in the middle of a crowd at all and continued sucking on Chris's lips. You wanted more. And Chris, well, he was certainly hard!

Okay. Chris might be a virgin, and sometimes get embarrassed in certain situations, but he was not innocent. He loved the way alcohol simply made him feel so confident even though he knew he might regret his actions in the following days.

Unable to bear all that suffocating commotion any longer, you separate your red lips from his and pull him to follow you.

You stealthily climb the stairs to a dark room. Chris couldn't resist putting his lips on yours once more. "Oh my god," he whispers into your mouth. The sounds of wet kisses filled the room.

When Chris realized what was about to happen, his skin tingled with eagerness and desire. You couldn't resist putting your hand on his hard member over his pants, squeezing it lightly, feeling the result of your teasing. You pushed him against the bed, climbing onto his lap, not stopping the hot kisses, feeling the bulge against your pussy. Chris was nervous, but he didn't want to ruin this moment by saying something stupid, or, presumably, telling you that he was a virgin. He had watched enough videos to know at least the basics. His hands went towards your ass, squeezing the flesh readily. You separated your lips from his to catch your breath. He looked at you fascinated by your excited expression. Not knowing what to say, Chris gave a short smile, running both hands over your bare thighs lightly. The satin dress you were wearing was so short that anyone could assume it was lingerie.

"Wow. You don't look anything like the guy who I met in the locker room." You say, hissing softly as you start to move on his lap.

"I-I, um.."

Chris didn't know what to say. He just smiled embarrassedly.

"Now you're looking a little bit like that." You bit your lip, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. You trailed your kisses down his neck, sucking the skin eagerly. Your eager hands went to his belt, opening it clumsily. You pulled his pants along with his boxers and Chris lifted his body to make it easier for you to move, and you could see his hard cock.

Holy shit.

He was big and thick, just like Matt.

You didn't know if it was because you were slightly drunk or if it was because of the bad lighting in the room, but he definitely seemed to be bigger than Matt.

You let out a moan as you dragged your hand from the bottom to the top, feeling his thickness. Chris groaned in disbelief and excitement.

When you took him in your mouth, sucking only the tip, he let out a grunt, throwing his head back. You began to swallow his entire length, making a mess of his cock.

Now everything seemed real to Chris, he couldn't believe it. The girl he met what? a week ago? was sucking him deliciously.

He let out a loud moan as you took his tip down your throat. "Fuck, Hmmm" he cried out. You smiled, pleased with his surprise.

Chris was a little afraid, as an overwhelming urge took over him - he felt so close to cumming.

Shit!

You continued sucking him, helplessly supported, loving the way his size filled your mouth so perfectly.

When you pulled him out of your mouth, still moving your hand quickly, Chris trembled, pulling your hand away, shooting jets of cum right on your face. "Holy shit. I'm so sorry." he said shakily, embarrassed for having cum in such a short time.

"It's okay, baby." you said, wiping your face with a piece of blanket.

Ugh, don't let that ruin your makeup. It took you an hour and a half to do it.

After the post-orgasmic feeling wore off, Chris shrugged, embarrassed.

Usually, you hated it when guys cum before you without even touching you, but you didn't feel that way about Chris. He was younger than you and that turned you on more than you should have. The idea of fucking him seemed as perpetual as fucking his older brother.

"Look, sweetie, my friends are probably looking for me by now, right?" You stand up, straightening your wrinkled dress. "Maybe when we're somewhere else we can finish this little game, hm?" You run your tongue in front of your teeth and lean in to kiss Chris hungrily.

He nods in agreement, watching you leave him alone in the room.

You go down the stairs of the house in search of the bathroom, and luckily for you there was no mile-long line, but, before you open the door, unfortunately, Matt comes out of the room.

You roll your eyes, squeaking.

"Oh, great."

"Look at this...." Matt looks you up and down, examining your entire body. "I know you can't help but dress like a cheap slut, but this is a decent party." He raises his eyebrows, clearly drunk.

You weren't really in the mood to retaliate with another comment, so you just ignored him. But when you tried to open the bathroom door, he blocked you. "Wait a minute. I haven't seen you all week. What is it? Are you upset that I didn't let you finish playing?"

Actually, I was talking to your brother and sucking his dick somewhere

The answer was right on the tip of your tongue, as was Chris's taste.

"Actually, I'm seeing another guy, and unlike you, he's not an arrogant jerk. Now, get out of here."

Matt pushed you against the wall, pressing his body against yours.

"I bet that idiot doesn't do half the things I do to you." he whispers, very close to your ear.

"Trust me, he's way better than you." your gaze drifts to Matt's crotch. You slowly raise your head, enjoying watching his smug expression change. "Ugh, now go find some hole to crawl into, you little shit." You push him away, quickly walking into the bathroom.

Shit. You loved the way he was rude and impatient with you.

As Matt heads for the exit, he runs into Chris.

"Hey." Chris says, looking a little nauseous.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Matt is gruff. "C'mon, let's go." Chris follows him without saying a word.

── .✦

The next day, Matt wakes up with the worst hangover. It was Saturday, so his day would be limited to spending all his time in bed. His hair was messy and his face was sleepy. Across the room, there was a deep sleep for Chris. Later in the afternoon, when he no longer felt like a piece of shit and seemed to be better, Matt played video games with a relaxed and sober posture.

"Hey, dude." Chris enters the room with damp hair after taking a shower. Matt just answers him with an "Wassup."

"Hey, um, can I tell you something?" Chris asks casually.

"Sure."

"Last night, when you asked me where I was, I-i, um, was actually with a girl." Chris says without pretense.

He didn't feel embarrassed to talk about these things with Matt because he was his older brother and always told him everything. Chris was strangely happy to be able to say that he had his first sexual experience.

Matt raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly at his brother. "Really? And what were you guys doing, huh? Playing hide and seek?" he teased.

Chris snorted. "No, you idiot."

Matt laughed, not taking his eyes off the video game.

"She gave me a blowjob."

"Impressive, Chris. I'm proud." Matt says, glancing sideways at his brother. He was a layman, anyway. "Was it good?"

"I guess so, I mean, it was my first."

"I get it!" Matt exclaimed. "Relax, I'm sure you'll do great here."

"Like you? I heard all the girls hate you." Chris says sarcastically and Matt ignores him.

"But, I don't know, this girl seems unreal. She's a senior." Chris says, feeling comfortable enough to share this with Matt.

Now it seemed like Chris was making it all up.

Matt listened to his brother babble, but he was paying more attention to his game.

"We met in the locker room a week ago. I had seen her naked, by accident, and I thought she would be mad or something, but she complimented me and said I was 'the hottest freshman she had ever seen."

"Bro, please, be serious." Matt resonated, this time really listening to Chris.

"It's serious!" Chris exclaims, irritated by Matt's contradictions. "I think you know who it is. Her name is y/n, she's a sen-

"WHAT?" Matt's eyes widen in disbelief at what he had just heard.

Chris is confused by the unusual reaction.

Before he can say anything, Matt is walking down the hallway with heavy steps.

You're sitting in your solid wood chair, eating your chocolate cupcake with sprinkles when the door to your room suddenly opens and the figure of an angry Matt appears.

He walks over to you quickly, slapping your hand, making your cupcake fall to the floor.

"Hey!! that was my last cupcake, motherfucker!" you exclaim irritated.

"You really are a needy bitch, aren't you? Out of everyone in this fucking university, you wanted to fuck my brother."

oops

You remain expressionless for a second and Chris appears right behind Matt.

"Matt, what the f-" the younger tries to assimilate the entire situation before him. It was already obvious to him that Matt knew you.

You ignore Matt's prone pose and look shamelessly at Chris.

Still sitting in the chair, you lie: "Look, I didn't know he was your brother."

Matt grits his teeth.

"What the fuck is going on?" Chris asks.

You walk to the bedroom door and lock it.

When you pass them, the boys can see that you were only wearing panties and a transparent white blouse, showing your breasts with shiny tips due to the star piercings...

Chris looks away from your breasts, but it was too late. "Do you like what you see?" you ask with a damn smile.

"I really enjoyed last night..." you say, pulling Chris's hand to sit on your bed and he does so. Matt crosses his arms, poking his cheek with his tongue. You decide to make Matt even angrier by sitting on one of Chris's thighs without warning. "What do you think we continue where we left off?" your gaze is completely fixed on Chris and you see the pupils in his blue eyes dilating.

You revel in the whole situation.

Something really fun could be about to happen and you weren't going to let it slip away.

"You make me sick!" Matt says, interrupting your moment with his little brother. "Chris, forget about this bitch. She couldn't be content with rubbing her ass on me and now she wants to rub it on you too.

"Wait you guys already-"

"Ah! But that was a long time ago, baby. Matt is jealous. You don't mind, do you?" One of your hands holds Chris's chin, making him look only at you.

Despite the awkward situation, Chris didn't mind that you had sex with Matt. Chris was naughty and needy, and having you sitting on his lap with your perky breasts almost exposed was really driving him crazy.

Maybe he just didn't care now.

Before Matt could say anything and ruin your simple moment of happiness, you start kissing Chris's face and this causes an intriguing shiver on the back of his neck, sending vibrations to his cock.

You laugh softly at the way his body reacted. "You're so sensitive..." Chris blushes.

"He's a virgin." Matt interrupts you, paying close attention to your body.

He didn't want to embarrass Chris but he was starting to get jealous about the inappropriate situation.

For a second you had forgotten that the grumpy hot brother was standing there in the middle of the room, after all, at the moment described, you only had eyes for the sensitive hot brother.

Chris exposed his irritation to Matt, however, before he could say anything, you intervened. "Oh, so that's it!" Your mouth opens in surprise, but that only makes you more captivated about Chris.

That should explain last night.

"I can fix that, love." Your hand is on Chris's cheek and your mouth plants a little kiss near his mouth. "Do you want it?" You ask suggestively.

Chris nods with gradual fascination. One of his hands went to your thigh and you loved the way he didn't refrain from touching you. He was a virgin without scruples, just like you once were.

"Matthew, you can either go outside or you can stay there watching. I'm sure Chris won't mind."

Matt felt helpless and challenged.

What? Did you think he was going to go out and be humiliated by his own brother?

He was too proud to just let you say that shit without at least fucking all the arrogance out of your body.

Matt clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, standing next to you, making you sit between the two of them with your legs wide open like a trained dog. He pulled your face and touched his lips to yours, moved by the shamelessness on your face and a tremendous desire to feel your body against his.

You let go of Matt, feeling his hand run over your pussy covered and wet with natural lubrication. He teased you the way you liked. You turned to Chris and kissed him, while Matt licked and dragged his tongue down your neck.

"Tell me, baby, have you ever sucked a needy pussy?" He silently denied. "It's quite easy, I'll show you."

Chris complied with your request when you gestured for him to kneel between your legs. You rudely removed Matt's hand, pushing your panties aside to show Chris how wet and thirsty for him you were. Chris was ecstatic and his mouth watered. Your hand went to the back of his neck, forcing him against your heat and he gladly accepted, touching his warm tongue to your clit. He sucked and licked precisely, seeming to know exactly what to do. You moaned loudly at his actions, loving the feel of your pussy being so wet. Matt took off your shirt, revealing your tits that he didn't hesitate to put in his mouth, partially sucking each of your nipples, grabbing your breasts roughly.

"Hmmm. Fuck, that's it. So good." you screamed as Chris added a finger inside your entrance without warning. You pulled his hair, forcing him even deeper into your pussy. Matt stopped sucking on your nipples, which were swollen by the pressure caused by his lips, and kissed your mouth again. He took off his belt and exposed his cock, forcing your mouth violently against it, making you gag. He pulled his member out of your warm mouth and without even waiting for you to catch your breath, he shoved his entire hard cock into your mouth again, gripping your hair tightly, he fucked your mouth listening to the wet noises his movements caused.

Chris was doing an incredible job eating you out. His cock was rock hard, feeling quite appreciated having that wet pussy in his face. By that point your panties were already disgusting and soaked. He added another finger inside you, but your moans were muffled by Matt's pre-cum-filled tip in your throat, leaving you breathless.

Matt couldn't help but squeeze your throat roughly just so he could feel his size in the palm of his hand. The feeling of his weight against your tongue was delirious. "You filthy slut. You love having a cock in that dirty mouth, don't you?"

The scarcity took over your entire body, as the overwhelming urge to cum soon reached your lower abdomen when Chris rubbed your clit, fingering you deliciously. You separated your lips from Matt's cock to say weakly: "I-I'm going to cum."

Hearing this, a sick and arrogant idea took over Matt. The excitement in his body was massive and vulgar. He stopped his movements to say: "Chris, stop sucking it." The younger simply obeyed with the corners of his mouth and his chin full of lubrication.

"No, no..." you whimper, tears falling down your flushed cheeks.

Matt gets out of bed, grabbing the wooden chair and placing it in a space next to the bed. "Sit down." He says and Chris does as he's told. Matt rips your lace panties off easily and pulls you up by your hair, leaving your scalp sore. He makes you stand up, facing Chris, holding both your hands against your back. "Look at her, Chris. She's a dirty greedy slut who'll do anything to have a cock fucking her tight pussy." Your aroused state of mind is harmful. Matt's words make you wetter and wetter. "She wanted to use you to satisfy her nasty fetishes, so in that case she deserves to be fucked hard, don't you think?" he whispers in your ear but Chris hears his older brother's words very well. "Or maybe it would be better to just cum on those beautiful little tits and leave." Matt gave a sick smile, slapping your breasts hard. You protested against his words, letting out distressed whimpers.

Chris didn't take his eyes off the defeated figure in front of him - his lust was delirious, eager to be inside you. He bit his lip, thinking seriously about Matt's proposal. He knew it was a bluff, he wouldn't go anywhere without fucking you first. Even though he was completely inexperienced, he was assiduous and articulate. Chris took off his pants, freeing his stubborn cock.

Matt threw you against Chris who held you firmly, unable to do anything he turned you so that your back was to him and stuck his cock deep inside you entrance. You were surprised and confused by the way he held you so perfectly.

Had he lied about being a virgin? And was this all just some ruse between him and Matt?

But these external thoughts dissipated when he stuck his cock in your tight little entrance. Your moans were constant and high-pitched - you loved feeling so full. Chris made a tremendous effort not to appear helpless in the face of that overwhelming sensation of being inside a pussy for the first time. He grunted when you wiggled on his lap. "Fuck me, please," you begged Chris in a sly voice that only Matt had ever heard before.

He complied with your request, captivated, held your smooth thighs and began thrusting inside you. Matt pulled you forward and stuck his cock in your mouth again and you sucked it deliberately. He put you in an uncomfortable position, but your sexual decline was so massive that he didn't even care about the pathetic way you were. You felt full in every way. Chris felt confident enough to increase the pace of his rough thrusts, he felt a longing stimulation tangling in his chest as he hit your g-spot harshly. He squeezed one of your tits, amazed at the feel of the metal piercing as it pinched your nipple.

With one hand holding his own penis and the other in your messy hair, Matt took his cock out of your mouth, looking at you with dark eyes. He pulled your head back when you tried to suck him and did it again when you risked the attempt. Chris kept your arms behind your back, which irritated you because you couldn't hold Matt's cock. You stuck your tongue out, circling Matt's tip, he dared to run his cock over your sweaty face the way you loved so much...

"So obedient, accepting two dicks! Is that what you wanted, hum? Matt asks you with a smile on his lips and you smile back, nodding in affirmation.

Chris couldn't hold it any longer, the rush to empty himself took over him. You moved against his thrusts, increasing the rhythm and fomenting your heat closer and closer to your climax, but before he squirted jets of sperm inside your tortured entrance, you came screaming loudly, feeling a rush of pleasurable emotions throughout your body. Chris lets go of your hands and holds you by the hips, he cums infamously inside you, moaning deeply.

Before you can recover from all that exhausting and intoxicating commotion, Matt lifts you from Chris' lap and throws you on the edge of the bed, thrusting himself carelessly inside you. The stimulation in your sensitive pussy makes you scream desperately, trying to push Matt out, but he holds your hands on top of your head. He puts one of your legs on his shoulder and fucks you without limits. "Didn't you want to fucking cum?" he moans and you are still screaming from the sensitivity. Matt could feel the white liquids running down your broken entrance, and as he thrusts once more, he pulls his cock out of your entrance, he masturbates quickly and cums right on your abdomen.

All three of you are panting and exhausted. You let out a frank laugh and Matt gets off of you thinking that, although you drove him crazy, he really loved fucking you.

Chris was trying to process what had just happened.

And you? Well, you're sure this isn't the last time this will happen. It's all about patience!

part 1

to my hot girlfriend: @aniesvision

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alicesivory · 4 months ago

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Old Habits Die Hard [1/?]

Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 2559 (not much since it’s the first chapter)

Summary: Before Jon Snow there was Aemond Targaryen who survived The Battle of God's Eye. Aemond thought that he would return to Kings Landing showered with praise. Yet he finds himself being taken to the north being held hostage and was sent to the wall. Before Jon and Ygritte, there was Aemond and her.

As the sky turned grey and the air was cold, the one eyed prince sat on the corner of the carriage he was in. Wrists chained, he peeked through a hole from the carriage and saw the banners of the great house from the north.

The Starks.

He cursed himself for not making allegiance with them rather than flying to Storm’s End.

Lucerys.

Vhagar.

It happened so quickly.

Yet it felt like it was ages ago.

Yet it was only 2 and a half years ago.

He does not know how his mother is, his brother, Helaena, and Alys.

Do they know that he’s alive?

Presumably not.

He was supposed to die, his body sinking down in the waters like how Lucerys died. Yet his uncle missed, rather than stabbing his healthy eye, Daemon stabbed his arm. The wound was harsh and painful even if the northern men who found him had briefly treated his wound.

It still hurts like a bitch.

Fisting his hand, he roughly kicked the carriage. Let me out of here. “Quiet!” A northern man shouted from outside, hitting the carriage back. Aemond grunts and slumps onto the floor with defeat. He is far from Kings Landing and Harrenhal. He was far from home. What felt like hours the carriage eventually stopped and the air was not only cold, yet it was freezing. His body started to shiver and his teeth chattering. Hugging himself in the corner of the carriage, his body could not take the cold in truth.

He wonders what has happened over Vhagar’s body. Have they taken her away from the waters? Will they honour her like what they did to Balerion? Or will they behead her head like Meleys?

The carriage doors eventually opened.

“Oi, Targaryen,” a northern man mocked, tossing a thick fur to him. “Out, now.” Aemond grits his teeth as he clutches the fur even with his hands chained. With a tremble, he stood up using the fur to warm him up. “Move it,” the northern man says once again, dragging him out of the carriage roughly on purpose, making him fall out of the carriage.

Humiliation was the first thing that popped into his mind.

The northerns laughed at him as they surrounded his meek self on the ground. Reminding him of the pink dread, driftmark, and the brothel. Even at the edge of Westeros he is mocked and made fun of. Aemond could not do anything but to pick himself up. He felt a shove from behind, “Walk faster, puny prince.” He picks up his steps as he curses the northerners under his breath.

They led him further away from the road, he looked back seeing the world he once knew now far behind him. The only thing he could see now was the giant fortress and castles of the north.

Winterfell.

When the gates opened and he was brought inside, he felt eyes on him. He does not know whether it was because he was a Targaryen held hostage or were they looking at his eye. For he has lost his eyepatch way back in God’s Eye. What use of it now that he is a prince held hostage. Keeping his head straight, he walked into the castles of Winterfell. The fur around him is still tight in his grasp, for he did not want to freeze to death in front of these northerners. Not when he is a hostage. He shall die in front of them when he shall prove them wrong.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen,” a voice boomed when he walked into the great hall of Winterfell. He looked up, finding Cregan Stark sitting in the middle with his council surrounding him. That proud bastard. “Lord Cregan Stark,” Aemond says, keeping his voice steady and filled with pride. He is still a dragon in chains. “It seemed you survived such a duel. Every part of Westeros has heard of your duel with your uncle, and every part of Westeros has heard of your survival.” Standing up from his seat, he continued, “And now every part of Westeros knows that you are chained by the north.”

Every man snickered in the great hall.

Aemond could only smirk and hummed, his pride was still present.

“It seemed, Lord Stark.”

Cregan chuckled in amusement.

“The north does not bow down to your brother. We serve your half-sister, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. So it means you have no power over us, Prince Aemond.” Aemond’s healthy eye bore into Cregan’s as he speaks of Rhaenyra. “She is nothing but a pretender. You all are traitors in the eyes of the throne,” Aemond coldly said. “When my brother hears of this, I shall make him burn the north to the ground.” Hearing how prideful the one eyed prince was, Lord Cregan steps closer to him. Scanning Aemond from head to toe. His hair was a mess, his old clothes ripped and his wound on his arm was still present.

“Yet do you know who is in power right now?” Lord Cregan Stark asked.

Aemond stared at Lord Stark curiously.

“Your brother was poisoned. He died a few days ago.”

Aemond’s heart sank.

“Your brother is no longer king for he is dead. You do not have power over us, Prince Aemond.”

Cregan steps away from him. “You call us traitors of the realm, yet the one you serve is not sitting on the iron throne. And my prince, the north keeps their promise and does not falter. We stood true to our word and bent our knee to Queen Rhaenyra. Not your brother. You were captured by the wrong people in your own civil war, my prince. For we are not traitors, it is only you who is a traitor in this room.”

The room went silent as everyone had their eye on Aemond.

“Bend the knee to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen or you shall be sent to the wall.”

The wall.

That useless wall that everyone fears of. Aemond thought lowly of the northern’s consequences. Screw the blacks, screw the northerns, for he will not bend his knee to these cowards just because he is their prisoner. He shall not be seen as weak just because he does not have a dragon.

“Never.”

He used to reside in a lavish castle and was dreaded by all. He was served anything he wanted on a silver platter by servants. He is now sitting on the brink of the dungeon he was put in, dissatisfied with himself. He would often take a bath every day, but instead he is sitting on the cold Winterfell dungeon flooring. Only a thick fur to keep him warm.

A piece of meat and bread shoved inside into his cell, not as tasty as his feast in Kings Landing but it’s better than nothing. But his mind refused to finish his plate for he does not want the northerners to even think that he needed them. Aemond Targaryen needed no one. “Oi, pretty boy,” they opened his cell after days of torturing him with this place.

“Lord Stark wants to see you.”

Standing before Cregan Stark once again, he repeated himself.

“Bend the Knee to Queen Rhaenyra or you shall be sent to the wall—,”

“—never.”

Cregan saw how Aemond underestimated the north. The wall, especially. For he saw how much pride the prince had within him.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with, boy.”

Aemond’s chin high up, he stood tall in his place.

“I deal with what I must face.”

Cregan sighed, “Then may the gods be with you.”

The mystery of the land beyond the north was yet to be solved by anyone nor the great dragons of the Targaryens. But they were not aware how they were being watched as time went by. The crows were not safe from danger as they ventured beyond the wall.

“Shh!” One of them said,

“You will get us caught.”

The freefolk. Wildlings.

Unlucky to be secluded from the realm, the wildlings have lived for generations outside of the wall. They are fiercely independent and reject the authority of the Seven Kingdoms and the Night's Watch. They have resilience, adaptability to harsh environments, and a deep connection to the land.It was not easy but they survived and have yet lived for years yet to come. Attempts were made to get past the wall but to no avail, they were outnumbered.

“You stepped on my foot!”

“Could you please shut up?!”

Shoving her companions apart from each other, the spearwife walked past them to get a closer look to the wall. “Those crows could have heard you!” Smacking their heads. “Ow, that hurts!” The taller one exclaimed. “Quit whinin’, Yuri,” she says again, peeking through the tall trees.

“How are we gon’ pass the wall with only the three of us versus a bunch of crows?”

“We’re not here to pass the wall, we’re just here to spy on them. So we can know how many men they have,” she whispered to them. “How many of them have you spotted?” Her companions thought for a moment, “Too much to count. This wall goes far more than 50 leagues, not to mention its fucking tall.”

“Won’t ya look at that,” Yuri said pointing at the wall. “It seems they have a new member. A strikingly different crow.” She looked up at where Yuri was pointing and saw a tall silver haired man lowered down to his station. With his black attire, his silver hair shone beneath the cloudy skies of the north.

“Why is his hair like that?” She asked curiously.

“D’you think his mother fucked a snowman?” The comment made the three of them snicker. “Or do you think he’s just a really old man?”

“He doesn’t look old…he even looks younger than you, Gruf,” she chuckles. “Watch it kid,” Gruff says, jabbing her arm lightly. The wildlings kept their eyes on the night’s watch as they took their new member to their headquarters, castle black. “When shall we strike?” Yuri asked.

“There’s too many. I don’t want our people to die by their hands,” she says in concern. “We must do it carefully. We have to atleast claim castle black before actually trying to pass through the wall. And it seems to be…impossible.”

“Why can’t we just shoot arrows at them? Gruff’s good at those,”

“And blow our cover? Honestly, do you really want to get us killed, Yuri? Not to mention, these mens are savages. They took an oath not to use their cocks!” Her words made them all chuckle. “Yet they call us savages.” A little smirk tugged her lips as she kept an eye on the new silver haired crow. If the young spearwife claimed she wasn't drawn to the attractive man from the watch, she would be lying. He doesn't have a northern man's appearance. Tall but not as skinny as people from the north, and of course, he had stunning silver hair. Not blonde, she noted. Pure silver. And when he turned around for her to see his face.

“He only has an eye. A purple one, even,” she said her thoughts out loud. “Blimey…and he placed a blue stone on his other eye socket,” Gruff pointed out as the three of them curiously spied on him. “Remember that story of our grandfather seeing dragons with silver haired people?” She asked. “You think he’s one of those people?”

“I don’t see any dragons with him,” Yuri answered.

“But he does have those similar features. What do you think happened? Why is he on the night’s watch?” Letting her curiosity get the best out of her, she sprinted off to take a closer look of the silver haired man.

“Oi, kid!” Her companions whisper-shouted at her.

A stubborn little thing she is, she didn’t listen. Instead she hid behind the tall trees, peeking her head through as the crows pushed their new member into the base. “There’s a sept here if you want to pray, pretty boy,” she heard a northern man say with a hint of mockery in his tone. “To pray for your mummy and your well being. You wouldn’t last a night.”

His jaw tightened and he fisted his fingers, displaying a soured facial expression that she could perceive. She was waiting for him to punch the man from the north, but he just turned to walk away. Huh, why didn’t he do something about it? He looked pretty mad.

Sighing with disappointment, she took a step back.

Crack.

Shit.

His head turned towards her direction and without a doubt she hid herself behind the trees. His attention was driven away from the northern and his healthy eye scanning across the tall trees around him. “What lies beyond the wall?” She heard him ask to one of the crows. His accent proved that he was not from the north, for his voice was smooth and formal like a nobleman, flows with a rich stern tone that effortlessly commands attention. He sounded elegant, not rough like any men she has encountered.

Taking a peek once more behind the trees she hid in, she noticed how he looks far much prettier than any man.

“Beyond the wall, you say? Anything you couldn’t have imagined. Danger lies beyond and if you venture too far, you might lost your way. Before the creatures of the night could even feast you, the land itself will swallow you whole,” the crows answered. The one eyed crow could only nod and looked back up to the land beyond. It seemed he could not spot her after all. But she wished he could.

Staring at his uncertain expression, he gave up and turned his back from the trees and went inside the night watch’s headquarters. Giving her a chance to escape and run as far as she could from them. It seemed that he is not friendly to the crows, and what kind of men who vowed to be on the night’s watch asked what lies beyond the wall? Was he one of those men who were forced to take an oath? He didn’t seem to enjoy himself being a part of the watch.

Was he the key to her people’s victory?

“Where the fuck have you been, kid?!” Gruff said as he jogged towards them. “I have a plan,” she said as she caught her breath from her little run. “What plan?” Yuri asked. “I think we might have a chance after all,” she answered with a smile. “We have to wait until dawn. When it gets dark, wait for me beneath the trees not far from castle black, alright?”

“Woah, slow down kid. What about-,”

“—I know! I know! But you both have to trust me on this one. There would be no conflict but I swear it to you, we can win this.”

“And you promise that you’ll come back in one piece?”

“I swear it.”

a/n: It’s still the first chapter lol and this dynamic was heavily inspired by jon and ygritte (on the show) and I’ll just let this series flow through slowly since I wanted to build the dynamic between them😔🎀 And yes I am not comfortable using [y/n] and no specific descriptions of our lovely spearwife⭐️.

Divider cr; @aqualogia

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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

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Hi, I was hoping you could please write a Spencer x fem!reader where they're hanging out as friends but they get separated and she gets aggressively hit on and is uncomfy. He sees this, realizes he likes her in that way, gets jealous, and steps in to protect her? Please oh please!!!

red flags | S.R.

spencer steps in to protect you from a drunkard

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: protective!spencer, bars, alcohol, reader gets very aggressively hit on and is called a bitch and baby doll, reader is explicitly referred to as female (girl, lady, woman), kissing, spencer makes the first move (ooc?), the guy at the bar should be arrested ngl word count: 1.17k a/n: i fear i may have verged from the request, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you so very much for requesting!!!!! <333

Shaking your head, you stood up from the table, “It’s fine, I’ll go up to the bar.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked from his seat, looking up at you with big brown eyes.

Smiling softly at him, you grabbed your purse off of the booth seat and walked across the restaurant to the bar. Neither you nor Spencer were really “bar” people, but this place was close enough to Marbury University’s campus that it felt worth your while.

That, and it had been deemed a “townie” bar by your students, so there was a low probability of running into any pupils here.

Dinner with your colleague had eventually turned into your entire night spent in that very booth, now that the kitchen had closed and the waitstaff clocked out for the night, you had to go to the bar to get water.

As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you turned your head back and shot Spencer a reassuring smile. You weren’t sure either of you had been in this situation before – no one wanted the night to end.

Next to you, a man nudged you with his arm, “I’ll pay for the lady’s drink.” Judging by the smell of him, he’d had enough drinks for the entire bar.

“I’m just getting water,” you brushed the man off, holding up the number two to let the bartender know that you wanted two glasses of water.

Naturally, the drunkard next to you didn’t get the message, he continued to pester you, “We can’t have that, let me get you a drink, little lady.”

Demeaning nickname aside, you had no interest in drinking anything this man purchased. Crinkling your nose, you responded, “Thanks, but I’m really not interested.”

He leaned over the bar and looked at you, bright green eyes and salt and pepper hair – your unwelcome companion was probably old enough to be your father. “In me or the drink?” He asked as you tried not to gag at the sheer stench of whiskey on his breath.

Resolutely, you decided not to answer the man’s questions. Your attempts at placating him were obviously not turning out the way you had wanted them to.

“Hey,” he interrupted your thoughts. “I asked you a question,” he prodded.

He was persistent. Persistent men were bothersome, but persistent drunk men were dangerous. Red flags were appearing in your head as you looked over at him, “Neither, I suppose.” Glancing back at your table, you hoped to shoot a ‘help me’ look to Spencer, but he was nowhere to be found.

The man seemed offended at your answer, reaching out to set a hand on your arm. The red flags quickly morphed into sirens. “What, are you some kind of prude or something?”

Despite your attempts to remain stone-faced, your lips parted in shock.

Lowering his head so it was level with yours, he whispered, “I can fuck the prude out of a girl, you know?”

Had he really just said that to you? In a public place?

“She said she’s not interested,” a familiar voice said from behind you as you flicked the man’s hand off of your upper arm.

Your harasser looked outraged as if he was viewing Spencer stepping in as a personal attack. Scoffing, the older man shook his head, “Do you usually butt into other people’s conversations?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in response to the challenge, “Do you usually harass women at bars?”

“Fuck off, dude,” he said. You held back a laugh in response to this man calling Spencer ‘dude.’

Shrugging, Spencer reached out a pulled you away from the man, familiarly setting his hand on your waist. You weren’t sure how long had had been standing behind you, but you were glad he was there. “Why didn’t you?” Spencer retorted easily, you supposed he worked with people like this often when he worked with the FBI.

A confused look contorted the man’s features, “What the fuck do you mean?” He obviously wasn’t used to being stood up to.

“When she asked to be left alone, you didn’t. What makes you more deserving of having your wish granted?” Spencer impugned easily, never moving his hand from where it rested on your waist. Without meaning to, you had backed into him, leaning your back into his chest.

What looked like realization dawned on the man’s face as he nodded. “Oh,” he said, the gravel in his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

You peered up at Spencer, “Can we just go, please?” You implored. The bill was paid, you just needed to walk out the door.

“You’re already screwing her,” the man said – far too confidently.

Flinching at his crude language, this time you tugged at Spencer’s jacket to try and get his attention, “Spencer, let’s just go.”

The drunk man shook his head, “No, baby doll. Don’t go. I want to know what he thinks he’s gonna do. Are you gonna stop me from getting to your bitch?”

Before Spencer even had the opportunity to react to his words, you had instinctively grabbed one of the ice waters that the bartender had placed on the mat and tossed it in his face. Maybe it would help him sober up, but it felt good either way.

Reinvigorated, you grabbed Spencer’s hand and dragged him out of the restaurant, not stopping until you were up the street and away from the bar. “What was that?” You mumbled to yourself; you had never lashed out against someone like that.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said from behind you, causing you to spin on your heel. You peered up at him through mascara-covered lashes as you waited for him to continue his thoughts. “It wasn’t my intention to make him think you couldn’t stand up for yourself, but you looked so uncomfortable out there that I had to step in. Believe me, I’ve seen situations where that exact situation has gone south very quickly.”

You did believe him. Timidly, you nodded in acknowledgment “Thank you, Spencer. I was uncomfortable,” you admitted, “I’m glad you were there.”

Taking a deep breath, you stepped away from him, looking at the street signs and trying to acclimate yourself to your location.

“Do you mind if we take the long way around Third Street? I don’t really want to have to oh-“ You were cut off by the feeling of soft lips on yours.

All night, you had been thinking of ways to make the first move. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would be the one to make the first move.

Slowly, Spencer pushed you back against the brick wall, moving the both of you so you weren’t in the middle of the sidewalk. Shyly, you reached up and wove your fingers in his hair as he kissed you as if his life depended on it.

Leaving you breathless, he pulled away. “As it turns out, I don’t mind taking the long way around. At all.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #protective!spencer

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juyeonszn · 11 months ago

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EXCITEMENT

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.22k

GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, best friends to lovers, numerous mentions of the female orgasm, ji changmin is a bit of a manwhore, mentions of alcohol, insane tension my b, intense making out x2, oral (m! and f! receiving), multiple orgasms, couch sex but missionary, unprotected sex (wrap before u fucking tap -_-), creampie, changmin is lowkey very whipped and very pussy drunk in this, also forewarning for every fic in this collab— there is lots of foreshadowing and references to the other fics since they all fall within the same timeline/universe!

SUMMARY you know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. what you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

MORE i hope u jichang lovers are strapped in and ready for this… kinda went crazy with it 😭😭 um anyway?? first fic of the black out or back out collab?? crazy!! this fic actually ruined me. it used up all my brain power so if every other one sucks u can’t blame me!! it’s the law!! also, i’d like to take a moment to wish my boyz a very happy 6th anniversary <3 so so proud of all they’ve accomplished these past 6 years and i can’t wait to see what they do in the next 6. in this deobi shit 4L frfr 🙏🙏

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

“No fucking way.”

You blink at Soyeon. It wasn’t that hard to believe. In fact, it was pretty easy to believe. You set down the bowl of popcorn on your lap and nod slowly.

“Uh, yeah. Yes fucking way,” a nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I’ve had to fake it with every guy I’ve ever been with. I don’t know what it is. Maybe something’s wrong with me.”

Men were… incompetent at certain things. And apparently your pleasure was one of those. Every dude you’ve ever slept with failed to make you finish. It was at the point that you felt that you were the problem. It would be understandable if it had been a couple guys, but every single one? Your luck had to be complete ass.

The only reason the topic had been brought up was because Soyeon had mentioned something about her last fling during your movie night. She was talking about how that had been the best sex she's ever had and it spurred you into making your confession. The last guy you’d been with had probably been the worst.

“Never?” Jiwon’s jaw drops, elbows resting on her knees. “How are you still alive, girl? How do you get your fix?”

“My hand, my vibrator, my pillow sometimes,” you shrug, picking at a loose thread on your blanket. “I’ve learned to make do with my situation, I guess. If I can’t get it elsewhere, I’ll just do it myself, y’know?”

Your girl friends look at you with pouts on their lips, as if they were the ones experiencing your misfortunes. You hadn’t even expected it to be such a big deal. You’d thought this was a normal, common occurrence. Boys usually sucked at things when it came to girls. But they all took this as a personal hit, like you were a fallen soldier in battle.

Perhaps the female orgasm was far more important than you assumed it to be.

“Considering who your best friend is, you’d think you were getting good dick left and right,” Dahyun snorts into her glass of wine. “This is actually kinda insane.”

You guess she had a point, despite you both leading very different lives. Changmin, your best friend, was known as one of the many heartthrobs on campus. He was in a fraternity, played on the school’s baseball team, and he even played with other things. Namely the hearts of practically every other girl at your university.

You’d think it would bother you to be so close to a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck about those of the same sex as you. But for some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to care. It’s not like he was bragging about the bitches he bagged on a regular basis. Though you were his best friend, he understood boundaries. He knew what was appropriate to talk about with you and respected that.

Your friends laugh at her observation, but drop the conversation after that, resuming the movie you were watching. However, it’s not that easy for you.

You can’t stop wondering if something really *is wrong with you. Why was it that everyone and their mom was capable of finishing and you weren’t? It was more unlikely that every single man you’ve been with sexually was that mediocre. Were you really that unlucky?

It bothers you so much that you find yourself still thinking about it well into the following week.

With the start of the new semester, came the adjustment of new classes. Even though you were a Communications major, you made the grave mistake of taking Lifespan Growth and Development with Changmin for the extra credit. He was an Early Childhood Education major, so it was a requirement for him, but not for you. (Honestly, he only forced you to take it with him so you had at least one lecture together. He was afraid your friendship might start to fade if you didn’t see each other often.)

Imagine how horrified you felt when your professor began to talk about babies and their circadian rhythm, but the only thing in your head was the fact that you’d never orgasmed because of a man. You felt like you were going crazy at this point. Really, the thought should’ve been long forgotten by now. But you couldn’t help yourself from dwelling on it, especially after your friends made jokes at your expense.

As you’re walking out of the lecture hall side by side with Changmin, you keep your focus on the ground, your hearing going in and out. His voice is staticy, your brain only registering words here and there. You’re a little pissed off that this has become such an issue.

He notices your lack of response and stops walking, eyebrows furrowed. You pause in your tracks along with him. “Are you good? You’ve been spacing out all morning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you shake your head as if that would rid of these stupid thoughts. “I’m just a little tired, I guess. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“Well, you better fix that. We’re expecting this weekend’s party to be one of the bigger ones this semester. Juyeon’s passing those fliers around like it’s his job,” Changmin purses his lips with a snort, ruffling your hair. “I need my beer pong partner to be in tip-top shape.”

You scratch the back of your neck. Half of you was kind of hesitant to go to this weekend’s TBZ party considering that was where you met the dude who started this whole downward spiral. He made an offhand comment about seeing you again, but you were actually hoping that would never happen. And with your fortune, the probability of running into him was pretty high.

“You see…“ You begin, but Changmin interrupts you with a distressed groan before you can continue.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of flaking,” his arms fall to his sides as his head tips back dramatically. “Y/N, I really need you there. How else am I gonna smoke everyone? I need— I mean we need to keep our title.”

Sometimes you wish Ji Changmin took anything else as seriously as he takes beer pong. You suppose it came with being a fraternity brother or something. They all drank alcohol like it was fucking water. You’re still sort of surprised none of them (Sunwoo) has gotten alcohol poisoning yet.

“I’m just… trying to avoid someone. And they’ll probably be there.” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers. Your best friend gives you an unreadable look that flashes across his face only for a moment.

“Tell me who it is. I’ll make sure they’re not allowed in. I’d much rather have you there than some rando who’s bugging you.” He says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants.

“That’s really unne—“

“Yo, Changmin! Aren’t you going with us to Cobie’s?”

You both turn towards the sudden intrusion, the voice belonging to Eric Sohn. He’s around 50 feet away from where you’re standing, joined by Kim Sunwoo and Ju Haknyeon. Changmin yells out his answer and spins back to you, an apologetic smile on his face. Somehow, you’re a little grateful for the interruption.

“We’ll finish this later, okay?” He nods at you, heading backwards in their direction. “You’re going, Y/N.”

You really should’ve listened to your instincts when they told you to skip out on the party.

You’re well aware that every attendee was crucial for the TBZ boys and their stupid rivalry with the KAT girls. So maybe you understood why Changmin needed you there so badly, aside from the obvious beer pong thing. However, you were starting to regret showing up.

First of all, Ji Changmin was nowhere to be found. Second of all, Jeon Soyeon was hounding you all night about the secret you so idiotically shared with your gal pals.

She was dead set on finding you a solution. (Basically, she was scanning the crowd of partygoers for a suitable man to satisfy your overdue needs. And she was proving devastatingly unsuccessful.)

You were too anxious to drink, also. Your feet were bouncing from where you sat on the couch, and your fingers couldn’t stop fidgeting. The antsiness was getting annoying at this point and you were hoping your knight in shining armor (Ji Changmin) revealed himself soon. Lest he wanted to lose out on his beloved beer pong partner.

It appears that your years of honing in on your manifestation powers have finally come to fruition when you spot Younghoon and Juyeon hauling the beer pong table into the living room. Where one of those tables are stationed, you know you’re guaranteed to find your best friend. The shorter of the two gentle giants cups his hands around his mouth and announces the first round of tonight’s tournament.

You stand from your seat, grabbing the opportunity to break free of Soyeon’s efforts to pimp you out. You’re ready to confirm you and Changmin’s spot in the tournament, when you see that you’ve already been beaten to it. It takes absolutely everything in you not to let your jaw drop and your eyes to tear up.

Some girl who happens to be in your Lifespan Growth and Dev class (you think her name is Iseul) is draped over Changmin’s arm, signing them up for the first round. He doesn’t look like he wants to, but makes no effort to refuse her.

You don’t know why it irks you. It shouldn’t irk you.

You’ve never cared about who he spends his free time with in the past. It’s been so easy for you to let his behavior slide, brushing it under the rug like it was no biggie. But this time, you care a whole lot. You chalk it up to the fact that he was seemingly replacing you as his beer pong partner, even though that was the entire reason why he wanted you to come to the party.

Yeah. That’s why.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips just as Hyunjae passes by, no doubtedly heading to the beer pong table. You catch the sleeve of his polo and force him to halt in his steps. You’re not even sure why the hell he’s wearing a polo in the first place, his outfit embodying the stereotypical frat boy perfectly. This looked nothing like his usual wardrobe.

“Oh, hey Y/N, what’s up?” He smiles that award-winning Hyunjae smile, the one that manages to charm every girl in the room every single time he pulls it out. He brings the brim of his red solo cup up to his lips and finishes whatever’s left in it with one swig. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Do you wanna be my beer pong partner?” Okay, well now you’ve said it so there’s no going back.

His eyebrow shoots up in a mixture of shock and pleasant surprise. “Me? You’re not gonna ask Changmin?”

“He’s…” Your eyes flitter over to where he stands with Iseul(?), Hyunjae’s following. No. You’re okay. This isn’t getting to your head at all. Everything’s cool and peachy. “He’s too preoccupied.”

Hyunjae chooses not to say anything, instead nudging you over to the opposite end of the table. Changmin’s eyes widen when he sees the two of you, even having the audacity to look scandalized. God, maybe that was his biggest fault. He was so entitled.

So, it was just fine for him to bail on you in favor of some girl he didn’t even know, but the second you talk to one of his frat brothers, it’s off the table? What a fucking hypocrite. The whole ordeal was actually beginning to get on your nerves now. All you wanted to do was win this stupid beer pong game to show him that he’ll never find a partner as good as you.

Woah. Holy shit, Y/N. You need to dial it back a bit with the possessiveness. That was a lot, especially for you.

Juyeon narrows his eyes at you and then glances over to Changmin, the cogs turning in his head slowly. You’re not sure if that’s because he’s so used to seeing you both on the same side of the beer pong table, or because his vision was so shitty. Either way, it has you cowering behind Hyunjae a little as he dips the ping pong ball into the cup of water in the center.

“Okay, you know the rules. Let’s have a healthy, friendly game,” Younghoon says, tapping the table with a smile. “No playing dirty. I’m looking at you, Hyunjae.”

The brunette raises his hands in surrender, doing a quick bout of rock, paper, scissors with Changmin to determine which team went first. He wins with a quirk of his lips, sauntering back over to you. After rolling his neck around and popping his fingers, he tosses the ball right into Changmin and Iseul’s center cup.

You hate to admit it, but Hyunjae’s actually pretty good at this. You’ve never really paid attention to anyone else’s beer pong skills considering you’ve only ever played with Changmin as your partner. Who knows, maybe you’ll switch over permanently after this. At least, you might if he keeps up whatever it is that he’s doing.

Your best friend’s jaw tightens as he grabs the red solo cup, chugging what’s inside. He huffs and takes his turn, nearly missing with the way the ball circles around the rim. He sighs in relief at the same time you grimace. You still hadn’t had anything to drink all night and starting with fucking beer was probably the worst idea.

The game probably would’ve been a bit more competitive had Iseul been decent at beer pong, but she sucked. So Hyunjae and yourself always kept your lead by one cup or more. Karma is a dish best served cold, or however the saying goes. And karma certainly presented itself in the form of Ji Changmin’s first ever TBZ beer pong tournament loss.

Hyunjae high fives you with a cheesy grin, lacing your fingers together and shaking them around. He presses a kiss to your temple and guides you away from the table as Juyeon and Younghoon clear it for the second round. It wasn’t odd for any of the TBZ boys to show you affection since you were like a sister to most of them, but this felt… kind of weird. You can’t pinpoint exactly why, but it made you feel off.

“You’re my secret weapon,” he laughs, hands burying into the pockets of his khaki shorts. “I’m gonna steal you as my partner permanently.”

As much as you joked around in your head, the truth of the matter was that you could never actually replace Changmin. In spite of him acting like a complete dumbass tonight, he was still your best friend. Not even the biggest of fights would change that fact.

Before you can dismiss him, Changmin is stalking over to you with a slight scowl. His nostrils flare a bit as he asks, “Can we talk?”

You barely nod and then he’s fisting the material of your top at the small of your back, urging you away from the living room. Your feet keep tripping over themselves while you attempt to match his pace but he’s too determined to reach his destination in mind to even notice. No one even bats an eye as you get ushered to your demise.

You’re coaxed into a nearby bathroom without a word, your best friend standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. Because you hadn’t seen him a majority of the night, you hadn’t gotten the chance to get a good look at him. He was wearing a long sleeve striped polo and some baggy jeans, which probably would look basic on anyone else. But this is Ji Changmin. Girls flocked after him for a reason.

“Why would you play with Hyunjae? You know the type of guy he is. Now he thinks he has a shot with you or something.” As soon as he opens his mouth, you remember the type of guy he is.

“What does it matter to you? You were too busy giggling with your flavor of the week. Of course I wasn’t gonna wait around for you.” You bite back, mirroring his stance.

“Flavor of the—?” His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and then everything settles in. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you laugh humorlessly. “Don’t act all hypocritical with me, Changmin. I can’t believe I even came to this fucking party for you when you didn’t even bother giving me the same energy. Best friend, my ass.”

A scoff brushes past your lips and you turn to exit the bathroom, but he grabs your wrist. His grip isn’t too harsh, but it’s tight enough to stop you from going anywhere. “Wait. Don’t leave.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Your eyes flick back and forth between his and the fingers wrapped around your forearm. And you know, you really should’ve predicted what would happen after that. The nature of your words were provocative in their own right, not to mention the tension brewing in the midst of your argument.

From one second to the next, Changmin’s mouth is on your own, your back pressed to the bathroom door. His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once; digging into your sides, running through your hair, caressing your face. You feel insane. Your head feels empty, no coherent thoughts running through it as his lips move against yours.

They migrate along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking wherever they feel fit. Everything is moving way too fast for you to comprehend what’s happening. His lips feel so good on your skin, you’re having trouble finding the strength in you to stop him. But you know you have to. This was your best friend, for god’s sake. And besides, you didn’t want to deal with the disappointment you’ve faced time and time again when it came to men. You couldn’t handle feeling that way toward him.

Your palm presses against his chest and you try your hardest to ignore the sensation of his heart thumping beneath it. Your eyes squeeze shut as you push him off of you gently. Not expecting the sudden disruption, he stumbles backwards slightly. He’s a little dazed, like he, too, has not a single thought in that brain of his.

“I can’t— we can’t—“ You’re breathless, heaving up and down as if you’d just ran a damn marathon. “I have to go.”

You don’t give Changmin any freedom to react, escaping the bathroom exasperated. There’s too much going through your mind to search for Soyeon, leaving the party as quickly as you can. The moment your foot steps out of the front door, it’s like you’re given some clarity. The fresh air feels cool on your warm skin while you take the walk back to your apartment, not in the mood to sit in a stuffy car with anyone else. You needed to think clearly and vulnerably, and someone being there would just hinder that.

But first, you had to figure out where to go from here.

It’s been a couple days since the last TBZ party and you were still avoiding Ji Changmin like he was the plague.

You were definitely wishful thinking when you decided to just ignore things until you had class together. And even then, you were planning on pretending like nothing even happened. Fucking up your friendship with him was something you couldn’t stand emotionally. Or physically. It would be akin to the pain of having your heart ripped straight from your chest.

Meeting Changmin when you did was almost like a blessing in disguise. His attitude about life was exactly what you needed coming into university. You were shy and scared of your new surroundings. You had no friends, you were far from your family, and your imposter syndrome was through the roof. But then he swooped in and made everything better somehow. As much as it was a snooze fest, you’ll eternally be a little bit grateful for sharing that First Year Seminar class with him.

Deep down, a piece of you has always belonged to Changmin. From that first day of freshman year to now, you’ve always held him to a different standard than everyone else. You liked to believe it was because he was your best friend, the one person who sought you out even when it felt like no one ever would. And until very recently, you kept trying to convince yourself that was the case.

If you slept together that might be worse. What if he ended up like every other guy you’ve landed in bed with? What if he couldn’t satisfy you? It would make it even more strained. You didn’t want to end up like every other girl who’s vied for his heart and failed miserably. He wasn’t a relationship person.

Falling for him alone would complicate everything. If he didn’t feel the same, it would be weird between you and your friendship would never go back to normal. Yet as you lay here, body bundled in your comforter and drowning in one of the many sweatshirts he’s left over at your apartment, scrolling through his feed, you realize that there’s no return from this point. Now that you’ve contemplated the idea, you’re too far in.

You know, the universe had funny ways of rewarding you. (Or rather, punishing you.)

There’s a knock at your front door. You’re not entirely sure who it could be since you weren’t expecting anyone, but one glance through the peephole and it’s all over for you. You consider stepping away, running and cowering in your bedroom until he disappears so you can go back to dissimulating that your entire life wasn’t crumbling to your feet.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up, please, we need to talk.”

You curse under your breath but unlock the door anyway, maneuvering so he can come inside with ease. Changmin stares at you with an unreadable expression for a minute, vision raking over your figure. Maybe you’re imagining it, but it’s something similar to how men have looked at you before, like they were undressing you with their eyes. That’s when you remember that you were wearing his sweatshirt.

Without pants underneath…

The wind knocks out of him in an instant, something primal coming over him when his gaze lands on you in his clothing. He knows he shouldn’t think about you the way he does. He shouldn’t think of how pretty you are when your pen is caught in your teeth, attempting to make sense of whatever your professor was talking about. He shouldn’t think of the way your cheeks flush when you’ve had too much alcohol at one of the TBZ parties. He shouldn’t think of kissing you, or pressing up against you like a dog in heat. He shouldn’t be thinking of the kiss you shared Friday night.

You’re his best friend, the one person in the world who has ever understood him. The one who’s always glued to his side even when he may be in the wrong. Why would he ever want something different? How could he ask for more when he should be thankful for what he was already given?

“Why are you pushing me away? Why are you ignoring me?” Is what he finally asks after the silence has become unbearable.

“Changmin,” you swallow thickly, hesitative with what you say next. “Friends don’t kiss— we don’t kiss.”

He takes a step forward, and then another, and then another until he’s only arms’ length from you. “But, we could.”

You release a shuddery breath, reaching out to stop him from coming any closer. “P-Please. We can’t do this— I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He pushes. He knows he’s tiptoeing the edge of something else. There’s a fine line between what you have now, and what he’s wanted for so long. It’s always been a matter of if you wanted that too. “Is it because you just don’t want to?”

You’re not even sure how to respond to him. Of course you want this. It isn’t that you don’t want him. You’re more scared than anything. You’re scared of becoming just another victim of Ji Changmin’s charms, of giving into him and it leading to another let down. Your resistance is evident on your face, and you’re not all that taken aback when he sighs.

“I’ve wanted you since that first day of First Year Seminar, Y/N. No one has ever compared to you and no one ever will,” he confesses, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I sleep with random girls to get you off my mind, to forget that I’m pretty fucking in love with my best friend.”

Then it all clicks.

It’s like you’ve come to the biggest realization of your life, an epiphany striking you suddenly with the weight of a freight train. It all trickles into place, the reason why you’ve never enjoyed yourself during sex. The reason why you’ve never finished at the hands of any man you’ve been with intimately.

None of them were Ji Changmin. None of them were the best friend that your heart has belonged to since your freshman year.

You press your lips to his without any warning, nearly colliding into him with the force of your impatience. He reciprocates immediately, fingers tangling in your hair and holding you closer than physically possible. You tilt your head to deepen the kiss, tongue dragging along his lower lip. Years of repressed longing and pining find themselves surfacing in this one kiss.

Changmin’s hands travel to your waist, burrowing into the fabric of his sweatshirt as he yanks you toward the couch. He falls to a sitting position when the backs of his knees hit the edge, your knees resting on either side of his lap. You don’t break apart once, not even to gasp for air as he grinds you down onto him. Through the material of his cargos you can feel him. He’s just as throbbing as you are, your core pulsing with a need unlike any other.

His fingers reach for the hem of the sweatshirt and that’s when you pause him, your nerves getting the best of you. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just,” admitting this a second time isn’t easier. “I’ve never— nobody’s ever made me… you know…”

The corners of his lips curl up, thumbs rubbing the backs of your thighs. “You’ve never came before, baby?”

Your breathing stutters in your chest, the smugness of his voice sending shockwaves through your body. You should’ve fully expected him to be a master at pillowtalk, what with the whole Sex-God persona and all that jazz, but it still catches you off guard. You shake your head shyly, arms hooked around his neck. His mouth attaches to the spot behind your ear, sucking the skin tenderly.

“I’ll make sure you’re ruined for anyone else,” his voice is no louder than a whisper, but sounds deafening to the cotton stuffing the place where your brain should be. “I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t think twice about who you belong to.”

A small whine emits from your throat, hips gyrating themselves onto his crotch. He bucks up into you instinctively, keeping you still on his lap. The sheer possessiveness of his tone is driving you up the wall. That seemed to be something you had in common with each other. You’re lightheaded, too many layers of clothing blocking the space between you. Changmin connects your lips again, sliding his hands beneath the sweatshirt so his fingers can hook into the waistband of your panties.

He helps you out of them and your top, baring your entire body to him. The way his cock twitches makes him feel like a goddamn teenager. You paw at the zipper of his pants as he pulls off his t-shirt, tugging the cargos down his legs so you can kneel between them. If he thought he wasn’t going to last before, he’s certain of it now. He wraps your hair around his fist in a makeshift ponytail, watching you with hooded eyes as you kiss his tip.

“You look so gorgeous like this,” his voice is wavering, his composure drifting off.

That encourages you to take him into the wet heat of your mouth, tongue twirling around the tip. You run it along his slit, tasting the precum that had formed there. His head falls back onto the sofa cushions, jerking his hand back a bit and tugging your hair just enough for it to sting. You moan around his dick, the pain providing more pleasure than its intended purpose.

He bucks up into your mouth yet again, his length gliding down your throat. Not prepared for the intrusion, you gag, pulling off of his cock with a string of saliva bridging your lips to the tip. Tears prick at your eyes for a second, and then you’re going back in.

This time you manage to relax your throat, fitting more than you could prior. Changmin’s eyes are half lidded, not once daring to look anywhere that wasn’t you. The sight of you so eager to please, so desperate to reward him in spite of you being the one who’s never orgasmed before, was clouding his thinking.

The image of you on your knees, sucking him off like your life depended on it, would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. (Not that he minded. You lived there practically rent free, anyways.)

Your attention stays on the tip of his cock, tongue repeatedly alternating with dragging under the head and the slit on top. He could die happily, actually, the fear that he may never have you in this way finally dissipating into thin air. Want could only take a man so far.

He doesn’t stay sentimental for very long, remembering that you were currently between his legs and the inner monologue could wait for later. Though, he makes the grave mistake of making direct eye contact with you and it’s game over after that point.

Changmin finishes with a groan, his cum painting your chest with milky white ropes. He cups both sides of your face, bringing you up to kiss you messily. He doesn’t care that he can taste himself in your mouth, nipping your bottom lip to pry it open. The two of you swap spots, with him now on the floor and you on the couch. He pushes up your knees, spreading them to gain access to your cunt, glistening with your slick.

He presses a soft kiss to your clit, glancing up at you through his lashes to gauge your reaction. He not only had a reputation to defend, but he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was going to be the first man to make you cum. But it wasn’t sufficient to just fuck you, he needed to do more than that. He needed to flood your senses and show you exactly what you’ve been missing out on.

His tongue circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, his ring and middle fingers going counter-clockwise on your entrance. He can hear the laboring of your breathing, the sharp exhale through your nostrils when he experimentally slides one of them inside of you. He starts to pump it slowly, building up the pace until he adds the other finger, curling them.

You whine when Changmin’s lips envelope your clit, suckling like a man starved. His fingers south don’t halt their assault, the palm of his other hand flattening on your lower stomach. You reach down to card through his hair, clutching the strands for support. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations contributing to the knot growing tighter in your abdomen.

He switches his tongue and fingers a moment later, lapping at your hole and swiping at your clit in a close ovular pattern with his thumb. You’re dizzy, lids fluttering shut and back arching off the cushions in a weak attempt to minimize the space between you. Changmin pins down your hips with his forearm, continuing making out with your cunt.

He flips the stimulation once more, mouth on your clit and fingers buried deep inside of you in an instant. He keeps his eyes on you, focused on every scrunch of your face and slacking of your jaw. The sudden difference in sensations has a loud moan ripping from your vocal cords, that knot coming undone almost too quickly for it being your first time in this position. You feel his lips turn up in a smile, like he’s proud of himself for doing the impossible.

Changmin pulls back slightly, his fingers still working you down from your peak. When he thinks you’ve calmed, he’s up and kissing you, petting your hair gently. “You did so well for me, baby.”

“I’ve made myself cum so many times before, but never like that— holy shit, Changmin…” You’re a little stunned and he finds it cute, despite you both being in such a compromising situation.

“I need you to give me one more, is that okay?” He lays you on your back, hovering over you. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on my cock.”

You pull him down for another kiss, pecking the side of his neck with a hum. “Want you to fill me up, too.”

The groan that leaves him is guttural, his forehead falling onto your collarbone. Dreams really do come true. He hikes up one of your legs, lining himself up with you. He guides his cock into you and watches you for any moves of discomfort. A whimper bubbles past as he slips in, bottoming out smoothly. Half of you still couldn’t believe this was happening. No fucking way was Ji Changmin on top of you right now, dick compressed in your cunt to the hilt.

He holds your knee to your chest as he begins to thrust his hips, driving his cock deep from the get go. Each motion jostles you further up the sofa, but you’re too gone to care. Your eyes have started to roll to the back of your head and you already feel that pressure rising in the pit of your stomach.

At this rate, you’re not sure you’ll last very long. You’re still extremely sensitive from your first orgasm and Changmin’s plowing into you like he might never get the chance to do it again.

“You’re so— fuck— you’re so tight, baby… Squeezing me in like you don’t wanna let me go,” he rasps, trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and carrying them down your jugular.

You moan something about how deep he is, about how you can feel him everywhere. It’s too much. It’s not enough. And despite him giving you everything he has to offer, you crave more. You’re yearning for more.

Something in you snaps and you’re cradling his face in your hands. “Love you so much, Changmin. Wanna be with you forever.”

His eyes widen at your off-kilter confession, but he doesn’t cease once. If anything, his speed increases as he kisses you passionately, noses bumping but so far on the spectrum from the others. This one is more emotional, more meaningful. It’s not long before he’s spilling into you, moaning against your lips. You follow closely behind, your second orgasm cresting like a tidal wave.

You stay like that for a minute, both of you soaking it all in. Your chests meet in the middle with each breath you take.

Changmin pulls out of you carefully, laying so you can rest comfortably on top of him. A smile inches across his feature, like he was on the inside of a joke you weren’t. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What…”

“Nothing, it’s just,” he brushes some of your hair from your forehead to leave a smooch there. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you how I felt for a while now. I just wanted to assure that you wouldn’t scream in my face and run the opposite direction. But you went ahead and beat me to it.”

“You meant what you said about the other girls?” You nibble at the skin of your cheek, nervous. “You slept with them to distract yourself from me? Even Iseul?”

He nods, albeit a little shamefully. “Not my proudest moment, I’ll say. I could’ve gone about it a million other ways. But yeah, I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you just because I couldn’t get my feelings in check.”

“You’re stupid,” you laugh, cuddling further into him. “It’s a good thing I’m kind of into that.”

“Kind of?” He quirks a brow at you. “I don’t know, you were saying something about loving me so much and wanting to be with me forever earlier…”

You smack his chest playfully. “Shut up. That was a moment of weakness or whatever.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles at you fondly, as if you were the reason that the sun shone so brightly. “I love you, too. And I wouldn’t mind being with you forever.”

956 notes · View notes

sluttyminghao · 1 year ago

Text

gamers do it better | c.sc x j.ww

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x jeon wonwoo x female!reader ♡ genre: smut ♡ w.c.: 2k ♡ this fic contains: messy gamers wonwoo and cheol, mention of mutual pining/longing over years, cockwarming, blowjob, mentions of fucking/multiple rounds, degradation (whore, slut), praise, and probably other stuff I've missed ♡ a/n: the brainrot is real...anyways enjoy! thank you to @idyllic-ghost for proof reading and giving tips on how to be More Feral <3

reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

Living with two men had seemed like a great idea initially until you moved in with them. You were constantly cleaning up after them, making sure they ate proper meals besides drinking energy drinks, and scolding them to go outside for just 10 minutes a day to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

You had lived with Seungcheol and Wonwoo for a number of years. At first, it was because you all took the same Biology class together in college and it was convenient for you to commute together at the same time, but even after your classes finished, you found yourself emotionally attached to these men and couldn't bear to part with them, and the feeling was mutual.

The last 12 months or so had been…more challenging than the last few years. There had been some longing glances from the two men, especially if you had walked around the apartment in just a sports bra and spandex shorts. The occasional graze or touch over your exposed skin had also been noted, and made your heart rate quicken, but nothing had ever been initiated.

Many nights you went into your room and your hands wandered to lower places while thinking about how they’d treat you, how they’d bend you into a pretzel and fill you with cum. But it all dissipated when you went back out to the kitchen and found plates and food littering the kitchen bench. Typical men.

It was a warm summer evening, the sun still peaking over the horizon and bathing your kitchen and living area in a golden glow that took your breath away. As you stood over the stove, contemplating your life choices over the bubbling water with noodles, you hear a sudden shout coming from one of your roommate's rooms, sparking interest.

Normally, Wonwoo is a very quiet and reserved person. He makes small talk with you if you eat a meal together, but apart from that remains either in his room gaming or leaves home before you wake and comes back after you fall asleep. Even still, he pays the bills on time and is extremely good-looking, so you can’t ask for more than that.

Turning the stove off, you place the wooden spoon down and pad to Wonwoo’s room, the door closed as per usual. You rap on the door quickly, and a small mumble of a ‘come in’ can be heard from inside, so you turn the handle and squint against the bright light emitting from his screen computer.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.”

“Oh, I’m fine, that was Seungcheol who screamed because he’s a little bitch.”

Your eyes drift across to the fluffy-haired man sitting next to him, who's staring at Wonwoo, shocked. He shoves Wonwoo’s shoulder and rolls his eyes, before turning around to face you with an unimpressed look on his stunning features. Seungcheol was stunning in his own way; fluffy black locks he’d permed a few weeks ago, bare-faced and the sweetest smile around.

“I am not a little bitch! He purposefully gave me a jumpscare!” He pouts as you chuckle and Wonwoo follows suit, only for him to immediately switch up and jump from his spot on the bed, stalking towards you until you’ve stepped back as far as you can go, aka hitting the wall with your back.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I-” Your justification is cut off by Seungcheol dragging his fingers up your exposed arm, goosebumps raising in their path. You can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as he places a hand next to your head, and your palms grow sweaty. He grins and beckons Wonwoo to come over, who’s been watching the interaction intently ever since Seungcheol had backed you against the wall.

Everything about this interaction is like your dreams coming to life right in front of your eyes, the only thing that would place the cherry on top of the cake would be if they actually did bend you like a pretzel and have their way with you.

You feel small as both men stand in front of you, their eyes drinking you in as if they haven't had lingering stares on you before (which they definitely have). You don’t try to stop them as they let their hands roam your figure, fingers fiddling with loose fabric before eventually pulling your clothing off piece by piece until you’re left in nothing but your white cotton underwear.

“Don’t you look so cute like this?” Seungcheol comments, his calloused fingers tracing your nipples and causing them to harden. He smirks as he watches them pebble up, not wasting any time dipping his head down to capture one between his lips, letting the bud roll over his tongue lewdly.

A moan escapes your lips, which is quickly swallowed by Wonwoo who shoves his tongue down your throat messily. Their free hands are roaming untouched parts of your body, and while there’s a nagging in the back of your mind about how you shouldn't be doing this with your roommates, there’s a louder voice yelling at you in your brain for not doing this sooner.

“Look how easily you’re giving yourself up for us, already soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo mumbles against your lips as his thick fingers glide over the cotton, the wet spot undeniable as he presses his fingers against it and watches smugly as you keen at the pleasure.

You can only gasp as Seungcheol pulls himself off your nipple and attaches himself to your neck instead, sucking a bruise into the flesh that will be purple within a couple of hours. Wonwoo glances over at his screen and curses, before heading back to his seat, leaving you and Seungcheol in a confused and lustful state.

“I didn’t realize my next game was about to start, why don’t you be a doll and come and sit on my cock? It’s aching just thinking about being sheathed inside that perfect cunt of yours.”

You feel the wet spot grow larger at his filthy words.

When you don’t move from your spot, Seungcheol takes it upon himself to drag you by your hand to where Wonwoo is sitting and readjusting his headset to prepare for his game. With a small groan, Seungcheol rips your panties off your body, mumbling something about buying you some more later, before positioning you over Wonwoo.

A low whistle escapes Wonwoo’s throat at the sight of your dripping cunt, and feels his cock straining tightly against his sweats. He can’t take it anymore and quickly shoves his sweats and boxers down to pool at his ankles, letting his cock spring up to attention. Your eyes widen at the sight, pre cum beading on the fat mushroom head, a prominent vein trailing down the shaft and his balls twitching in anticipation.

He chuckles but doesn't say a word as he grips your waist to pull you over his cock, and lets the tip slide against your clit, a garbled whine escaping your lips at the feeling. He grins and taps the head of his cock against your clit teasingly multiple times, and with each teasing pass you feel your whines grow louder and needier. In a moment of lust, you feel Wonwoo’s lips come up to nibble on your jaw, sending a variety of feelings through your body.

“W-wonu…please…need you,” your breathing is shaky and your words are slurred, the teasing from both men going to your head and sending you into a frenzy. If you didn’t cum soon you think you might just have to grab your vibrator to finish the job.

Luckily, it doesn't come to that, and your hand comes to rest on his shoulders as he finally guides his cock into you after teasing you mercilessly, the pressure of his cock finally filling you up makes your head swim and your thighs shake.

“O-oh fuck…” your voice trails off and you feel Wonwoo twitch inside of you as he finally bottoms out, a low groan filling your ears as your cunt squeezes around him like a vice. Seungcheol is losing his mind standing next to you, his own cock straining against his basketball shorts.

As you grow accustomed to Wonwoo’s size, you rotate your hips and begin the process of bouncing up and down. When his large hand comes to rest on your hips and grip tightly, you halt all motion and bring your head up to stare into Wonwoo’s lust-filled eyes.

“I didn’t say to move, did I? I just want you to sit on my lap and be a good little slut, and maybe once I’m done with my game you'll be rewarded.” His voice is short as he refocuses his attention on the game, delving right in and becoming immersed in the content.

You whimper as you clench helplessly around his cock, your fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt as he keeps you in place, despite still playing his game. You can’t even see him but you’re sure he’s smirking even while smashing the keyboard quickly.

“In the meantime, why don’t you be a good whore for me and help me out, hm?” Seungcheol’s husky voice has grown deeper and makes you clench, causing Wonwoo to chuckle. Your eyes open and you can see Seungcheol standing in front of you, thick cock in his hand pumping slowly.

As if on instinct, you open your mouth for him to place his cock inside, and you’re immediately met with the salty taste of his precum. You moan softly and start bobbing your head to take more of him in, which has his head falling back and one of his hands entangling in your hair, tugging on the strands harshly.

The sounds filling the room are lewd; the wet sounds of your mouth bobbing quickly over Seungcheol’s cock and how your cunt is still filled with Wonwoo’s cock, the occasional clench of your pussy sending a wave of arousal flooding down his cock and creating a puddle of slick on his chair.

“Your mouth is like heaven, sweetheart, been waiting for y-years to do this,” Seungcheol praises you as his hips stutter when you deepthroat him particularly well. The grip he has on your hair is beginning to sting, but you couldn't care less when the arousal in your abdomen is beginning to grow by the second.

“Son of a bitch!”

The loud profanity has you jerking off Seungcheol’s cock abruptly and looking at Wonwoo with concern. You can hear Seungcheol groan in annoyance and move your head back to his cock, where you teasingly take the tip into your mouth and suck lightly.

“Ya lose your game, big shot?” Seungcheol teases Wonwoo, who quickly whips his head around to stare the older down. He removes his headset and raises the middle finger to Seungcheol, who reciprocates quickly before focusing his attention back on you.

“Like you can play any better, especially with a slut in your lap.”

The degradation has you clenching around Wonwoo’s cock and moaning around Seungcheol’s, simultaneously making them throw their heads back and groan. You grin to yourself and make the effort to grind against Wonwoo and deepthroat Seungcheol before you’re pulled off both of them and shoved onto the bed.

You don’t have any time to react as they both crawl up next to you, Seungcheol now taking position between your legs and Wonwoo stroking his cock and tapping the fat head against your lips.

“Are you gonna show us just how much of a slut you can be?”

You lick your lips and spread your legs, inviting both of them to do as they please. It’s going to be a long, long night for all three of you.

taglist: @jihoonliker, @asmigirme04, @ny0sang, @cixrosie, @nabiee-x, @rinshabitat, @weakforsvt, @lenireads, @baldi-2, @floweryjessy, @joshuawifey, @enhacolor, @nikkixpenguin, @@yourfavoritefreakyhan, @valentxi, @hanniecheesecake, @vern0nsworld, @tigermoonbiss, @jeanjacketjesus, @excommunicado-03, @asjkdk, @humankimbap, @woozarts

@eaudenana, @weird-bookworm, @toruro

if you couldn't be tagged, please check your visibility settings so you don't miss anymore fics!

#sluttyhao fics #sluttyhao smut #svthub #kpop smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen x reader #kpop fics #wonwoo x reader #seungcheol x reader

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dark-konohagakure2 · 3 months ago

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May I request Rogue Zabuza defeating a female Hunter-nin that's been chasing on his and Haku's heels for a while and he decides to make an example of her? Ties her and fucks her against his sword among other things, maybe even uses a water clone to double stuff her.

tw: noncon, clone sex, double penetration, full nelson, exhibitionism, blade play, kidnapping, size difference, degradation, bondage, tummy bulge

All characters depicted are 18+

Zabuza and Haku are more than experienced with dispatching any bounty hunters that might be after them, the duo deals with hunter nins in the same way one would swat a buzzing fly away. However when one hunter kunoichi catches Zabuza on a day when he's in a particular foul mood, the Demon decides that a lesson is in order.

Zabuza doesn't like it when weak little ladies try to stand up to big strong men such as himself, so he takes it upon himself to put her in her place. He'll order Haku to tie her up tightly, and once she's bound and unable to escape, that's when Zabuza will commence the lesson.

Zabuza will hold his giant Executioner's Blade up to her, the circular cutout around neck, mere inches away from cutting her neck as he tears her clothes right off, making sure his protege gets a good eyeful of the woman's pussy before he rams his cock into her, tummy bulging with the shape of his thick member.

Zabuza's cock will be roughly hammering into her smaller form, letting Haku watch Zabuza destroy the hunter with his cock, making it clear that is main goal isn't pleasure, it's humiliation and dominance over this foolish shinobi who thought she'd have a chance in hell at taking down Zabuza Momochi.

"Watch closely, boy. This is how we deal with pesky hunters, but you already know that... I'll leave this one even more messed up than the last one..."

After he cums inside of her and he sees that there is still some fight left in here, Zabuza decides to up the ante. Forming the necessary hand signs, Zabuza summons a water clone, one that's sturdy enough to withstand a very tight squeeze, before easily lifting her up from behind, looping his muscular arms underneath her legs, lifting her up as both he and his clone rub their hard cocks against her already used pussy.

Just one Zabuza is enough to completely dominate and overwhelm anyone, but two Zabuzas pounding her at once is a mind shattering experience, having two of him to inside of her with their fat cocks bullying her untouched womb and stretching out her delicate walls around the two members relentlessly thrusting in and out of her sloppy pussy.

Zabuza will snidely praise her as he pounds into her, telling her that the hunters he's humiliated in the past couldn't take one of him without passing out, let alone two, but she's taking it like a champ, he didn't know that the Hidden Mist had been raising so many talented sluts when he was away, it's truly pitiful how the kunoichi of his village are more skilled at taking dick than they are at taking hits.

Once she's been thoroughly used and fucked out to Zabuza's liking, he decides to be generous and give her a brand new career path, being his own personal sex toy and stress relief, and it's a job with a terrible salary; a nonexistent one at that.

"You really should have reconsidered your method of earning pay, bitch. Because now you've got yourself a brand new job that doesn't pay a cent; being our own personal cumdump."

Being on the run as a rouge ninja is a pretty stressful lifestyle, but fate seems to be on the duo's side that day, because now Zabuza has his very own slutty stress toy to play with in anyway he sees fit.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto x reader #naruto smut #headcanon #x reader #naruto headcanons #zabuza #zabuza x reader #zabuza smut #zabuza momochi #haku #zabuza and Haku

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hyperfixated-on-musicals · 6 months ago

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Trina: Almost Always Left Behind

When talking about Falsettos, one character is usually disregarded and her emotions aren't taken into account as much. That character is Trina. She is a complex character with heart and soul but some people boil her down to be just Marvin's ex-wife and/or someone who is jealous of Whizzer.

I want to talk about a specific headcannon that undermines Trina. It's a headcannon that I personally like, don't get me wrong, but it also takes away from the whole point of that scene. That is the theory that Whizzer made the hiring sound because Marvin hit Whizzer before. I really like this headcannon but it shows that the fandom is disregarding Trina's feelings. She was the one who was hit. No one seems to talk about Trina's experiences with Marvin.

Trina would've also felt betrayed because Marvin had essentially lied to her for their entire relationship saying that he was straight. In Four Jews In A Room Bitching, Trina is also blatantly ignored whenever she tries to get a word in.

Trina's character proves the point that female characters with equally as complex emotions as the men are often ignored.

#falsettos #trina falsettos #falsettos women #falsettos musical #falsetto rambles #ranting #isabelle rambles

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azurlily · 6 months ago

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Guess whose not dead?!

(This is an actual post with a character, just scroll down to the pink bow if you don't want to read this.)

I was in and out of the hospital for a long time. I'm sorry I haven't been writing, but I'm doing so much better. I've closed requests so I can catch up on the ones I currently need to do.

I also wanted to mention some of the newer works(that AREN'T being requested) that I plan to make will probably be either smut or darker stuff. It's a way for me to cope and I enjoy writing altogether.

Yandere!CEO x Fem!Reader

Morena(yan!ceo) x fem!reader

Synopsis: You're a young woman working in the tech industry, you know people(mostly men) don't take you seriously. Due to the constant stress of needing to be better (just to be considered good) you are constantly anxious and jittery, you've also developed a depressive mindset and you consistently struggle with taking your medication.

You just got a new job by a large, female owned, tech company! You thought you'd feel better and you wouldn't have to deal with a toxic environment. You were dead wrong; your boss is a bitch and expects constant perfection and no less. You were just barely able to make it under her radar, until she starts going through files- and you find yourself in her office with a deal you just aren't allowed to refuse.

Not like you can refuse a demon after all?

TW: Non-consensual kissing and physical touch, somewhat mentions future kidnapping.

The reader is kissed(while under a spell that takes away will-power from their body) and is forced to sign a contract against their wishes.

You stand quietly, with your hands in front of you- clasped together so tightly you'd think you were about to get in your knees and pray. But no, instead you were ready to beg to not be fired.

That's what this was right? You were getting fired and your horrible, asshole, bitch-faced boss wanted to say it to your face. You could cry, you almost did on the way here.

Yet as much as you wish you weren't in this situation, as much as you wish you could repent for whatever you did; you genuinely have no idea why you've been called here. You've never gotten a write up, all your reports are clean and bug free, and you work well with seemingly everyone.

You stand face forward, staring at the woman who decides wether you get to eat for the next month. The same woman who while you hate her, you can't -no you won't- deny her beauty. You-

"Hello?! Do you hear me or are you too busy pissing yourself to pay attention?"

You look down, wondering if you genuinely did pee yourself, only to see dry pants and floor. You look back up at her and she gives you the look of someone who both wants to laugh and yell(not in the good way).

You wondered if there was something who had tried to sue her for how rude she was. I'm sure there could be some sort of case, as long as there was proof. Hell, even witnesses would do.

"Sorry, ma'am. What exactly is it you called me for? Has my team done something wrong, did we miss some meeting, or did-"

She stands up, slamming her hand on the desk so loudly it echoes. You nearly jump out of your skin- was she going to hit you?!

"Be quiet. I can't handle you prattling on like a cow. I'm not firing you, nor am I firing anyone on your team. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Oh and please- call me Miss Morena. Thank you."

Oh she is definitely a condescending bitch.

You thought for a moment, 'quite the opposite'. So you aren't getting fired, hell you may be getting a raise! Maybe Morena wasn't so bad of a boss. Maybe she just likes hard workers.

"Thank you, ma- Miss Morena. If I may ask: does this mean I'm getting a promotion?"

Morena smiles, not the smile you give someone when they're right about something. The smile you give when you're a fox, and you've just cornered the bunny you've been trying to catch.

"Yes, a promotion of sorts. I actually have a contract for you, but I can give you the gist and read the rest to you later."

Morena pulls an inch thick stack of papers from the desk. She sets them aside with a pen and slowly steps out from the desk. Morena signals you to come closer, but you only take a few steps forward. You could practically feel how badly this situation was going to go.

As Morena got closer, you began to feel more compelled to make eye contact with her. Like someone was whispering into the back of you mind, telling you to look up. To look into the beautiful blue eyes that Miss Morena holds. To never look away; keep your eyes on hers.

Don't look away from me. I always get what I want and that isn't changing anytime soon, little rabbit.

"Well I've been looking over employee information and I noticed you moved from very, very many jobs before you got to this one. Never staying in one place. I never really liked people like that, and from what I've seen, people like that have done the same with my company. Now I hope -very strong word here- that someone with skills like yours wouldn't do something to this company. I hope that you'd stay, willingly of course. You would stay willingly, right?"

Of course you would, you never had any interest in leaving. You planned to stay past the one year mark, past the time where everyone would get raises in order to ensure you were getting a that this place was a good opportunity. You loved it here, you loved you teammates, your boss, you loved the office building itself.

"Of course I'm staying, Miss Morena. I would never leave."

The words coming out of your mouth felt robotic, they felt like you were lying to yourself and others. Like you were in your body, but you weren't the one speaking.

"Good girl, now go over to my desk and sign you name on all of those papers. Don't read them, you don't need to. You can put all your trust in me."

You did exactly as you were told, you signed every paper with you signature. You didn't even think, your body was moving like second nature. You had this warm feeling in your gut, this safe and controlled feeling. You like feeling like this- don't you?

You hear some shuffling behind you and yet you can't turn around to see what's going on. You only hear a voice.

"You know while your under I guess I can explain. You can't really yell at me or try to run away, so I can speak my peace. You're going to be the newest human I suck the life out of! But hey, for the next few months you'll get to live lavishly and without fear of anything. Other than me of course!"

Your brain registered what she was saying, but you couldn't respond. What were you doing to do? What could you do?

"Come here bunny."

You turn around and walk straight into Morena's arms. She gently grabs your face, you just noticed three of her fingers on her left hand have been filed down. Meanwhile the nails on her right hand, as well as her pinky and thumb on her left, are long and colorful.

Morena pulls you closer to her, her lips ghosting over your mouth. You feel her press her lips to yours and you get an overwhelming feeling of disgust wash over you. You feel nothing but utterly dirty as she kisses you, you feel like someone's just stabbed you and is trying to clean the wound to make themselves feel better about the act.

Your eyes are wide open the entire time, so you watch Morena go from kissing you deeply to pulling back in what looks to be shock. Her pupils dilate slowly, her eyes relaxing and you see nothing but black take over.

"Oh...oh you're much too sweet to kill."

Morena gently moves you head to the side pressing her tounge against your neck. You feel her shiver and watch as she pulls back with a dark smile on her face.

"I take back what I said about you enjoying these next couple of months. . . You'll get to enjoy such pleasures for the rest of your life. With me."

You let your body process her words this time, you don't know how to react. Instead you feel your eyes wet themselves, your expression hadn't even changed. And yet, you were crying. Morena notices almost immediately and you watch her face distort itself into a disdainful look of annoyance, until it twists into one of sadistic pity.

"Oh, shh, bunny. Hush now, stop those tears. I'll take the spell down once were home, in my home you wont be able to run away. So you can have a tantrum all you want there. I know you don't like me right now, you maybe even hate me, but give it some time. You'll realise you need someone, and I'm the best you'll be getting for the rest of your pathetic human life."

Everything goes black after that.

#wlw #lesbian #im bad at this #women are hot #female yandere #tw nonconsensual touching #lesbian yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #female yandere x reader #CEO!yan!Morena #yandere ceo #im not okay #im not sorry #im not dead #demon #yandere!demon

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flowerandblood · 13 days ago

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The Grim Watcher

[ mafia • Ettore x mafia boss's sister • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, public, unprotected sex, smut, angst, threats of murder & murder, stalking, domination, aggressive behavior, violence, swearing, description of wounds, toxiccc ]

[ description: Ettore has been watching her for a long time and is in no hurry: he wants her to feel his breath on her neck. Although they are separated by a thick wall, they finally collide and she reveals a secret that forces him to commit the worst crime: murder. ]

This oneshot is my little Halloween gift. I wanted it to be a psychological horror novel, so there's a lot about what's going on in Ettore's own head. I hope you like it and remember that this is not a story that's supposed to be pleasant, and the behaviors in it are just plain toxic, lol.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

As he began to wonder why he kept staring at her, he decided it was because of how she stood out among the crowd. She was his boss's younger sister, which in effect allowed her to remain autonomous: she wasn't like him or the rest of the men in his group, who blended into one black mass with no beginning or end.

He though, unlike them, didn't do drugs and consumed alcohol in small amounts, liking to have his senses completely heightened – even more so when she was around.

He knew she was afraid of him, and that turned him on even more.

Her gaze fleeing in panic from his stare, the shudder that ran through her body when he sat down near her, her small hands clenched into fists on her thighs as if she thought she would be able to put up any resistance to him with their help, made him grin.

She knew he was watching her because he wanted her to be aware of it – to feel his breath on the back of her neck, his shadow following her silhouette, his scent in the room she was in. Somehow, he was amused by the discomfort painted on her face, the horror in her gaze, because, after all, he wasn't actually doing anything.

He was just watching.

He was just waiting.

There was something intriguing about this constant anticipation – they both knew that their collision weighed over them like heavy storm clouds, making them run out of air in the places they were together.

It was hard for her to breathe knowing she couldn't escape from him.

He enjoyed fucking like any guy: soft, subtle caresses were not in his nature, seeming to him to be tacky, feminine, filled with some kind of melancholy he didn't understand. Women who hung around dudes like him usually knew what they wanted: they liked bullies and toxic guys. Probably having been abandoned by their fathers as children, they sought out their warped double.

He used their bodies, treating them as warm objects in which he left his seed. He felt nothing but relief after the act itself, except some kind of aggression when they were too loud. He hated their unnaturally squeaky moans, finding them irritating: it seemed to him that they wanted to show him that the more he hurt them, the more pleasurable it was for them.

Something about this behaviour of theirs filled him with disgust, which usually ended with him pressing their faces against the pillow, and by the time he had finished, they were on the verge of suffocating, no longer deriving any enjoyment from the act itself.

"You're fucked up," one of them said, but fell silent when he hit her in the face with his fist so hard that she ran out of air in her lungs.

"Stupid bitch." He answered her.

Wasn't that what she herself wanted?

Or had she hoped that at some point he would confess to her that he had a weakness for her, that he bestowed upon her a cloying affection that she had not experienced from her parents?

He wasn't doing it to talk to them and didn't give a shit about what they needed.

They behaved like animals themselves, but only up to the point where they thought they were in control of what was happening – each was convinced that they liked the pain, liked the humiliation until they began to panic, as the thought finally appeared in their empty little heads that he perhaps wanted to kill them.

They weren't wrong: nothing would please him more than their eternal silence, the absence of their breathing, their moans, their words: just that wonderful silence around him, allowing him to enjoy the warmth of their bodies.

He wished they would just shut the fuck up.

He wondered if she too would have behaved like an animal if he had fucked her properly, but she was beyond his reach – as his boss's sister, she was untouchable, like a figure of the Virgin Mary in a church altar.

She even dressed differently from the women he usually surrounded himself with: she wore long floral jumpers, soft and warm, reaching her mid-thighs, shorts and knee-length socks, revealing only a small piece of her skin above.

Something about the fact that he couldn't just take her appealed to him – the fact that she was some kind of saint, a figure he couldn't desecrate, who would remain pure even in confrontation with him, that is, with nothingness.

They never exchanged a word with each other – he didn't say much, preferring to observe her from afar and keep his distance. She, quite the opposite – when she didn't realise he had seen her, she was bursting with energy, talking like crazy, discussing with various people for hours.

He circled around her like Pluto around the Sun, small and aloof, but still menacing – he let her forget his existence once in a while, only to appear before her suddenly at a time and place she least expected.

When, looking at someone else, she turned suddenly into a dark corridor in one of the nightclubs and bumped straight into his chest, he thought the heavens had shaken – the smell of her perfume was unnaturally sweet, making him think of a fruitcake, either with raspberries or strawberries.

"Oh, I'm sorry –" she muttered, still unaware of who stood before her – as she lifted her head, it was the first time he had seen her face so close up.

Her eyes seemed unnaturally large to him, her eyelashes long, her lips pink and full – he felt like biting them, hard, until he could feel her warm blood on his tongue, curious to find out if it also tasted like a strawberry.

Loud electronic music blasted around them from the speakers, making him feel as if they were both underwater – their silhouettes submerged in the red, sharp light seemed almost unreal to him.

He took a step towards her and she stepped back, hitting her back against a wall filled from top to bottom with all sorts of old posters. The crowd of people around them walked past them, heading to and from the toilets, chatting loudly to each other, paying no attention to them, as if they were invisible.

Anonymous.

The sacred mixed with the profane when his broad hand, in some subconscious, natural reflex, ran over her waist, sliding down to her back, letting his body cling to hers. He sighed, intrigued as she placed her hands on his chest, as if trying to keep distance between them.

He waited for her squeal of discomfort, for her terrified babble full of pleas and begging, but all he heard was her deep breathing, as if she was trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes, as if she thought that once she did, he would disappear – encouraged by the fact that she wasn't causing him any trouble and wasn't lashing out at him, he leaned over to sniff her.

He started with her long, dark hair, in which he sunk the tip of his nose – it was smooth and smelled of some kind of strawberry shampoo, which was perhaps responsible for her scent. Her fingers clenched tighter on the material of his simple black Tshirt tucked into his trousers as his nose slid slowly lower, to her cheek and then to her neck.

His hand roamed up and down her back like a guard, making sure she didn't try to pull away from him – the gentle movement of his fingers was a warning that he would remain calm as long as she remained so.

He felt her pulse clearly under her skin, the blood pumping rapidly through her veins, her heavy, excited breath like the sound of water. He slid the tip of his tongue out and ran it over her soft flesh, leaving a moist, warm trail on her skin. Her taste and salty sweat melted on his taste buds, making his erection, all swollen in his trousers, throb greedily, pressing against her lower abdomen.

He thought they were in some sort of in-between state – her quiet sigh, her head that tilted back, giving him more space to explore and admire, made him realise that they had just fucked in some strange, incomprehensible way.

The presence of others gave her a sense of security for certain – behind closed doors she would have been completely at his mercy, and here, now, she seemed to have at least partial control over the situation.

When his hand tightened on the material of her jumper and pulled at it, forcing her to turn her back to him, she did so without a word. He liked her silence, her deep breath in which, however, there was no terror – it seemed to him that she was actually curious about what was going to happen between them, as was he.

He had never touched a woman before without using force, so he felt that he was exploring completely uncharted territory of physical closeness between a woman and a man – encouraged by the fact that she offered him no resistance, hugging her cheek obediently to the wall, he leaned over and pressed his body to hers, pushing his erection against her buttocks.

He closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on the sense of smell and touch as he nuzzled his face into her hair, slipping his hands under the fabric of her jumper – they travelled lazily higher, over the skin of her stomach, until they came across her soft, plump breasts. Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands found a support in the cold wall in front of her as his palms clamped down on them – she hissed as he drove his nails into them, delighted at how well they fitted the shape of his hands.

"It hurts." She said in a whisper, startling him as one of her hands joined his, laying against his skin.

He couldn't say he wanted to cause her pain.

All he needed was for her not to disturb him while he took what he had craved for so long.

Her fingers guided him, directing his thumb to her nipple – she squeezed the spot and hummed quietly, rubbing her buttocks against his erection involuntarily, a shiver of something that clearly must have been pleasure shook her whole body.

He felt his cock pulsate hard, then again and again as he managed to get the same reaction from her – his face slid lower, to the crook of her neck, alternately licking her skin and sinking his teeth into it, trailing and rubbing both her nipples with his thumbs.

He felt them all swell and harden under his touch.

Her hand guided one of his arms lower, to the material of her shorts – involuntarily he clenched his fingers over the spot underneath which her warm pussy was, wondering if this was an invitation.

With one firm gesture he tugged at the material, letting her know that she was to pull it off no matter that there were other people walking around them.

To his surprise, she did so without a word, her jumper so long it covered her buttocks – it was only for a moment that he noticed what was between her thighs, her wetness glistening in the disturbing red light.

It took him a few seconds to undo his belt, trouser button and zipper.

"Bend over." He instructed her, and she obediently followed his command.

He didn't want anyone but him to see this wonderful sight, so he wasted no time – his hand guided the thick, pink head of his cock straight to her slit, and he immediately thrusted, forcing her to fit him inside. He sighed when he felt her resisting him – she was tight, or she was simply clenching her muscles around his length, wanting to make his task more difficult – something about this passive act of disobedience aroused him even more.

"– little slut –" He grunted, pulling back slightly with the movement of his hips, with another, sharper push opening her wide on his fat erection – both of them, to his surprise, moaned quietly and then fell silent, panting heavily.

He snuggled into her body as he felt the pressure lessen. He was finally able to slip deep between her fleshy, warm folds – she was wet, he thought intrigued, pressing his nose against her fragrant neck, beginning to move inside her at once.

There was no finesse in this act – their bodies slammed against each other with loud splats deafened by the music around them – only they could hear each other's accelerated breaths and gasps of pleasure, both clearly deriving some kind of satisfaction from what was happening.

"– how many of them have fucked you like this before? –" He hissed in her ear, running the fingers of one hand down her soft buttocks, the other clutched at her silken breast, playing with her nipple between them.

"– many –" She exhaled.

He would have known if someone had fucked her behind his back.

Even so, something in her answer infuriated him – the thought that if anyone else had come across her in this corridor, he might have had what he was taking now. He sped up aggressively, imposing a rough, brutal pace on her, again and again reaching almost to her cervix.

"– you're lying, you little whore –" He growled, pulling his hand out of her jumper, instead gripping her jaw with it. "– do it again and I'll break your neck –"

"– do it –" She said softly – it seemed to him that something resembling a smile flashed across her face as she closed her eyes and threw her head back, her walls clenching greedily around his erection in euphoria.

"– cheeky cunt – suck it, slut, or I'll kill you –" He threatened, thrusting two of his fingers deep down her throat – her moan was drowned out by his movements with which he slid them in and out from between her puffy lips, which clenched obediently around them with the quiet clicks of her saliva.

He felt what he saw in his cock, which pulsed aggressively inside her, the squeeze in his testicles testifying that he was close – her sudden, intense orgasm surged through her in spasms, driving him to the brink of peak.

"– don't stop – 'm about to come inside you –" He exhaled wearily and closed his eyes, involuntarily letting out a sigh of relief as his cum spilled deep inside her warm interior, mingling with her moisture.

She breathed heavily as he slid his fingers out of her mouth – he pressed his forehead against the wall, panting loudly, and she did the same, quivering all over, her slick cunt still pulsing around his half-soft, twitching manhood.

He glanced to the side, noticing a group of strange men watching them from a distance.

"– and what the fuck are you looking at? –" He called out, and the men turned away, clearly knowing who they were, not wanting any trouble.

"– my brother wants to kill you – tonight, when you leave the club – Matt will be waiting for you, he'll come up to talk to you – he'll have a knife under his jacket at the back – be quicker –" She whispered.

He froze, feeling his heart pound harder in his chest, the loud music around him seemed to deafen him.

"Why?" He asked.

"He's afraid of you." She replied. "You're unpredictable."

"Why are you telling me this?" He specified the question.

She looked at him but, to his surprise, he saw neither condemnation, disgust nor regret in her eyes – it seemed to him that she was tired.

It was one of those feelings that he could comprehend.

He was perpetually tired, discouraged, frustrated.

"I want to free myself from him." She whispered.

"You'll never escape him." He replied.

If not her brother, then his accomplices, they'd find her and squeeze out where he kept the money, the goods, the documents, and she'd tell them everything, willingly or not.

She closed her mouth, looking at him in pain. There was something hopeless about this view – her realisation that he was right and she was like a caged animal.

If he had been able to, he would certainly have sympathised with her, the only thing, however, that he experienced was discomfort, an unpleasant sting at the level of his chest that made him realise that enough was enough.

He grunted and slipped out of her, zipping up his trousers at once, watching impassively as she put her underwear and shorts over her buttocks, her eyes closed, her body shaking all over, as if she was about to crack, to fall to pieces.

But she didn't.

The blood on his hands was sticky and warm. He had never been fond of Matt – he was a barking wanker with a wide, sassy smile, thinking that anyone believed in his honest, good intentions. He was a walking narcissist obsessed with himself, convinced of his own inestimable worth, of the fact that he had managed to fool everyone.

He was choking as his blade didn't pierce his heart, but went a little higher – he did it on purpose to make the bastard suffer more.

He watched him writhing on the ground by the car park, howling and wailing, begging for help, but it was getting to three o'clock in the morning and everyone was inside, thinking that he was the one who was saying goodbye to life.

Returning home in his car, he realised he had to run, as far away as he can: so he packed quickly, putting only the most important things into a large leather bag, and walked out, leaving what was there behind.

He stopped a few streets away from their house: he knew exactly the location of their cameras and knew where to jump the fence to make sure none of them covered him. He had watched many times as she typed in the code that disabled the alarm, so he tapped it on the patio door keypad from memory:

45567

There was no one inside – surely they were all looking for him, but they hadn't assumed he would be right there.

He went into her room and lay down on her bed, recognising that he wasn't in a hurry – he was sure they would drive her away and continue looking for him themselves, doubtless heading towards his flat.

He would have about an hour.

Indeed, not even a quarter of an hour had passed when he heard someone open the front door downstairs – he was looking towards the window, at the setting sun, when she entered the room.

She closed the door behind her as if burned, looking at him in horror.

"What the fuck are you doing here? The whole city is looking for you. You should have been out of town a long time ago." She hissed.

"Come with me."

He didn't know why he'd said that.

He had been watching her for so long that it seemed to him that they had known each other for centuries, even though the only thing they had in common was that they were fucking that night.

"I can't. I have University here. I want to graduate." She muttered, pale with disbelief.

"It wasn't a request."

She swallowed hard, breathing louder and louder, and shook her head.

"No."

Her body pressed against the wall, her breath caught in her throat as he rose aggressively from the bed and pulled a gun from behind his belt, which he pointed straight at her.

"Pack your things or I'll shoot you in that little head of yours." He growled with impatience. "We were doing so well. Do you have to fucking annoy me?"

Her eyes glazed over with tears, her hand on her chest as if she couldn't catch her breath.

"Shoot me. I'm not going to change one madman for another." She said in a cold, breaking voice.

Her words enraged him – he moved on her like a bear, knocking over a chair standing in his way – she squealed as he pressed the cold barrel of the gun against her forehead.

"I'll blow your head off." He hissed, his other hand catching her jaw, shaking it so that the back of her head hit the wall several times.

"FUCKING SHOOT ME THEN!" She screamed as if she had lost her mind, and then burst out crying like a small baby.

His finger pressed lightly on the trigger, but he didn't do it all the way – his heart was pounding like crazy, adrenaline running through his veins like a stream, making his head hum. She whimpered as his fingers pressed harder into her jaw, his nose sinking into her hot, wet cheek.

Into her scent.

Strawberries.

His mother had once bought him a strawberry bun while they were at the bakery. Usually she spent her money only on alcohol, but then, that morning, she had still been sober. He devoured the bun like an animal, warm and sweet under his tongue, the taste of fresh fruit so wonderful that he had thought about it all day.

She looked up at him, stopping sobbing suddenly, as if something in his gesture surprised her – her eyes were fixed on his as she leaned towards him, letting their lips come into contact in what felt like a warm, sticky, wet caress.

He had never kissed before – he didn't and wasn't able to – but now his lips parted before hers, letting their tongues meet halfway, letting his teeth bite into her flesh, making the metallic, tart taste of her blood spill over his palate.

She embraced him and there was something sincere about it – some kind of understanding, a statement that she forgave him, despite everything.

He let his gun drop to the floor, his fingers clenching painfully tight on her hair, connecting with her in that aggressive, cruel way – he pulled away to catch his breath, and a few words left her lips.

"Find me. When everything goes quiet. You know where." She whispered, her cheeks hot and wet with tears under his fingers.

"If I see you with another man, I'll kill you both." He said.

She nodded, as if his words made no impression on her.

"I know."

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 6 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: slight allusion to suicidal thoughts, swearing, reader is anxious about the possibility of being killed

summary: after dying in a freak accident involving a suspiciously familiar white and blue truck, y/n wakes to find herself in the body of a petty side villain from a romance fantasy novel, doomed to die at the hands of her own fiance.

notes: I'm terrible at summaries but the girlies who get it get it!! This short series is going to be a very lighthearted parody of your typical romance isekai manhwa🤭with all the usual shenanigans and tropes that typically follow! I hope you all enjoy~

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

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“Let's go over this one more time,” you say, pacing back and forth, shivering as your feet press into cold marble.

“You said that five rehashes ago babe,” your best friend whines, head lolling over the side of your bed, “I think we get the plot, a bunch of Very Hot men all want you dead because you're sexy and you don't get along with their needy pick me girlfriend.”

“That- well I mean yeah,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “but that's not the point, Sun, the point is that we need to figure out how to make sure I, y'know, don't fucking die?!”

Sunoo groans, his silky black pyjamas blending into your tangled sheets so they cascade around him in an inky puddle when he slides closer to the floor. “The Princess was a bitch, a mean grumpy little thot, just don't be a hoe, avoid the Hot Men, and you should be fine- yah! What's with the face!-”

Expression pressed somewhere between exasperation and disgust, you shake your head at him.

“You've clearly never read an isekai manhwa, you can’t just run away from the plot, it holds onto you like a clingy stalker ex… sometimes as a clingy stalker ex.”

“So? Just… stick with plan Don’t Be A Thot?” he pauses for a moment before a shit eating grin spreads across his face, and you preemptively snag a pillow off the loveseat beside you. “It'll be hard to pretend to be something you're not but I'm sure you can do it!”

And there it is.

With well-practised precision, the embroidered cushion lands squarely in his face.

“This is my life on the line here Kim Sunoo! Could you take it seriously for just two seconds?”

Against your will, your eyes begin to sting with tears, limbs already growing restless in the few moments you've been standing still, fatigue and fear battling under your skin.

You hadn't slept peacefully in over three weeks. Your mind refusing to shut down of its own volition since you'd woken up in the room you now paced in, in the body you now paced in.

For the first four days, you were insane.

Screaming and pleading with a man who claimed to be your father, confused by the sorrow in his eyes and the tenderness in his hands as he prevented you from leaving your room.

Babbling through tears to the maids who filtered in and out, telling them that the title they were calling you by was not your own.

Curled into a corner of a closet, trying and failing to steady your breathing as you slowly came to terms with the fact that this was really happening.

You'd been truck-kun-ed clean out of the life you'd known.

Despair followed.

Hopeless, hollow grief when you realised what your name in this particular world might mean.

Princess y/n l/n.

Spoiled and arrogant daughter of the Duke.

A side villain of little significance set to die for the sake of the female lead.

Set to die.

You'd laughed when it hit you. The one thing you'd wanted more than anything in your previous life was being handed to you on a silver platter. How fortuitous.

It wasn’t until the eighth day, when you'd resigned yourself to your fate, that Sunoo came crashing through the large oak doors that were usually locked to keep you in, raised voices and a stamped of footsteps following behind him.

“SHE'S MY FRIEND I CAN SEE HER WHENEVER THE HELL I WANT,” he’d shouted.

Slamming your doors shut as he turned to face you.

He was the one who'd been running, face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly. But it felt like you were the one catching your breath, heart pounding in your ears.

“Sunoo?...” his name was barely a whisper on your lips.

“(y/n),” relief flooded his features, “you're here.”

He stumbled towards you, pulling you into his chest, body shaking as he held you so tight you could barely breathe.

“You're here you're here you're here-” he babbled, tears soaking through your clothes.

It took a long time to console him, and longer still for you to believe that he was there, puffy face squished between your shaking hands.

You remembered he'd been walking with you when the accident happened, his smiling face frozen in time when the headlights rushed closer. But you'd thought he survived. You didn't imagine for a second that he'd somehow landed in the same world as you.

That he'd be just as annoying in this world as he was in the last.

“Okay okay, I'm sorry,” he says in the present, standing and dragging your blankets with him, “I was trying to lighten things up, you've been stressing about this too much, I’m worried.”

And when he waddles next to you and wraps you in a hug, you know you wouldn't trade his annoying ass for anything. Sunoo was the reason you were trying to find a way to survive this in the first place. Without him, you knew you would've probably gone with the flow of the story, allowing the gallows to take you.

“I'm not stressing.”

“Sweetie, you have a whole conspiracy theory board pinned into what I think is a very valuable painting of your grandfather.”

“Touchè.”

You both turn to look at said board, a mess of string and poorly sketched portraits pinned to a painting of a grumpy looking old man on a white horse. “Remind me again who's who, I think I have the gay prince mixed up with the emo soldier boy.”

You smile, rolling your eyes, knowing full well he has no trouble remembering the character’s you’d told him about at least a dozen times.

“This one,” you say, pointing to an angular stick figure with a crown surrounded by sparkles, “is the crown prince who I'm engaged to because of fuckin’ course.”

Sunoo nods, “Of fuckin’ course.”

“The buff one is the knight I hire to kidnap the female lead when I think his royal highness has a thing for her, except knightey over here has a conscience and thinks the female lead is too pure and sweet to kidnap or whatever and ends up vowing to protect her or something.”

“You'd think someone with a conscience would have the decency to do a job if they had the audacity to take money for it, I mean he had no issue kidnapping a chick before he had the hots for her, that's kinda gross.”

“When you put it like that… anyway, the last two are a priest who wants her for her divine powers blah blah blah and the crown prince's illegitimate little brother.”

“His brother?”

“Yeaaa…”

“There’s other fish in the sea my man…” he says, giving the second crowned stick figure a sympathetic little pat. “So of the lot, who's the biggest threat?”

“My fiance…”

“No matter what we decide to do, you gotta dump the guy right?”

“Yes,” you say, confidence creeping into your voice. “There are a lot of variables, I've read enough of these things to know that 90% of the time they get kinda weird about their fiances when they dump them, but it's gotta be done.”

“Then we start there, the rest of this nonsense can't be figured out till it happens.”

He waves a hand at the other coloured threads linking squares of paper with possible outcomes and scenarios scribbled over them.

“That's true…” you breathe, brows furrowed, eyes darting across the board.

Sunoo’s lips curl into a slight pout when he sees you slipping back into the agitated state he’d been trying to coax you out of for the past fortnight. If he were being completely honest with you, he doesn’t believe in all this isekai nonsense, sure that if you simply avoid the plot you could easily live out your lives as a wealthy nobles without much trouble, but he knows that there isn’t much point in arguing with you. No, the best way to look out for you would be to support you as he’d always done, to have your back in this world the same way he had in the last, even if he thought you were being ridiculous.

With a sigh, Sunoo presses a thumb into the crease between your eyes, distracting you from the painting of your grandfather, holding back a smile at the way your nose scrunches in annoyance.

“Stop worrying,” he says, smoothing over the spot a few times before planting a kiss on your forehead, “whatever happens, we'll handle it together, okay?”

“...Okay,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms encircling your waist, the warm pressure of his presence surrounding you comforting. The one constant that had followed you into this life. “Plus, we’re early, aren’t we? The plot of your novel doesn’t start for…”

“Another year,” you sigh, “It all starts in their second year at the royal academy, when the female lead shows up as a transfer from the land they were at war with till a while ago… a show of peace or something once it’s all over.”

“We have time… you’ll be just fine babe, he says. “Plus, you keep worrying about them killing you, but don't they always end up falling in love with the dimension yeeted villainess in those comics?”

You scoff, pulling away. “I highly doubt that's possible Sunoo, I'm not the main villainess, I'm just a random side character.”

“A gorgeous, quick witted, adorable little random side character with an amazing sense of humour and such a big brain that she chooses to use for the dumbest things-”

“Sunoo!” you laugh, plucking another cushion off your couch to throw at him.

There was absolutely no way.

…

Right?

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