#not to spoil anything but the fic is called “Rough enough for love”

[itsscottiesstark]

Getting interrupted when reading the first frisky scene 100k words into a 400k words slow-burn is the worst kind of c*ckblocking there is, change my mind.

[steviewashere]

Still a WIP

Hey, so this is part of a chapter I will be posting in my fic: We Share This Life. It's already not a very happy story, I'm telling you right now. And this chapter is also not that happy at all. But, I feel like torturing y'all. So I'm posting it. And y'all will have to painstakingly wait until the rest of the fic is flushed out to get the entirety of this chapter. Enjoy :)

For full context, I encourage you to read the current story. Yes, I'm still updating. Yes, it's slow going. Yes, I wrote this first.

CW: Medical Diagnosis, Talks of Death, Mentions of Disordered Eating (In reference to symptoms) (That's the most you're getting out of a content warning, I don't want to spoil the whole thing.)

———————— He hunches over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

Steve’s using his crutches. He’s standing in the center of their living room in the middle of a game of charades. The word is ‘Bartending’. His hands, glorious and large lift from the crutches. They mime the glass. The alcohol. And then—

He hunches over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

The rest of them—Nancy, Robin, and Eddie—are sitting clueless on the couch. Elbows leaning hard onto their knees. Robin shouts, “Food poisoning!”

And Nancy scoffs because, “Why would we have put food poisoning in the hat of topics?”

Eddie’s clueless, but concerned. Concerned because the pain seems too real. Too visceral. Too…Obtainable. He hesitates a guess, “Childbirth? No…What would the—“ And he takes a closer look at his wonderful Steve. His legs are shaking. And he’s biting his lip hard enough to make it pale. And his eyes are watering behind his glasses. His skin turns a light shade of grey. “Baby?” Eddie softly calls. Steve is wearing his hearing aids. And he doesn’t hear him.

He doesn’t hear Eddie at all.

“Steve?” Because fuck petnames right now. “Steve, are you—what’s going on?” But when he can only hear the guttural, gargling pained moan part from Steve’s lips, he realizes this is no charade. This isn’t some game. Steve is hurting. Miserably.

He finds himself standing and rushing over before he can catalog he’s even doing it. His palms swamp the bony knobs of Steve’s elbows. He’s half-dragging, half-walking him over to the couch. And then he’s sat and Eddie’s crouched on the floor.

And he doesn’t know what to do. Because Steve is sobbing and moaning like somebody is carving him from the inside out. He can’t form words through the pain. His breaths go labored, both from the pain and the panic of having so many eyes on him. But Eddie can’t make Robin and Nancy stop looking. He can’t bother. His eyes are on Steve. They’re tracking the sweat beading on his forehead. His limp hair. His everything.

A palm, his left. Or…is it his hand? Is that his hand, is it somebody else? There’s a gold band on one of the fingers. The skin is pale. Eddie’s pale, he’s seen his own skin. He’s seen his own skin and yet he can’t make out the colors or the shapes in front of him. Steve is moaning, groaning in pain. So, Eddie can do what he knows is best. Setting his hand where Steve is clutching.

Because Eddie massages him on the couch. And he smears that disgusting weed cream on his aching joints. And he loves Steve, god damn it. He loves him like the moon can love the ocean or a person loves the spirit, not the body.

Where his palm lands under Steve’s, he stills. He’d wondered about the recent weight Steve had gained, not out of anything malicious, more out of adoration. He’ll have Steve in all forms. He’s been soft for many years at this point. This shouldn’t be anything new. Yet, under the softness of his palm, is the taut hardness of Steve’s abdomen. Almost bloated. Though, if Eddie thinks on it, their dinner hasn’t even been delivered yet. And Steve hasn’t had anything to eat since…well, since breakfast. He should’ve taken that as a warning, shouldn’t he have? When Steve looked up at him at lunch time, when Eddie was offering him a bowl of soup, when he said through a new roughness in his voice, “Stomach hurts. Not hungry.” Shouldn’t he have taken the warning when he thinks back on the days before? Steve’s erratic, disordered eating. His whimpers at night, even in his sleep, though no nightmares prevalent. Or the hisses as he twisted. Even the grunts when he was simply reclining on the couch, television playing some static cable premiered football game.

Eddie swipes his palm back and forth over the hard muscle. And he holds his other hand on Steve’s left bicep. And for the first time since he was forced to as a little kid, he prays. Already on his knees, hands on his body of choice to worship, and he prays like it may save them.

The groaning turns to yowling.

And Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

Steve starts hunching over in pain three days after Thanksgiving.

——— The doctor appointment is next day.

There’s growth on his stomach lining. The protruding to his abdomen and the hardness under Eddie’s palm, it’s a tumor. He gets the phone call while he’s at work. While he’s behind the desk at the record shop, maintaining his inventory, readying himself for a weekend trip out of town to pick up some more music. But then his phone rings.

“Y’ello?” He answers.

“Hey,” Steve greets, breathy. Shakily down the line. He’s walking somewhere. There are cars zooming behind him. The rustle of the wind. Eddie can only hope he took his scarf with him to this appointment. He would’ve gone, but he couldn’t find anybody to keep the shop open.

“Hey, baby,” Eddie greets back. He keeps his voice soft. Like they’re laying under the blanket in their bedroom, sharing kisses, whispering secrets into one another’s mouths, fingers tracing over long ago healed scars. “How’d it go?”

By the way Steve sighs, Eddie knows to not expect good news.

“There’s a growth in my stomach,” he mutters. Then he’s exhaling hard. “It’s…They’re saying it’s possible that it’s adenocarcinoma of the stomach? I don’t—“ He huffs and Eddie’s chest pulses. “—They suspect it’s from a combination of cigarettes and stomach surgeries. Y’know, the surgeries after the bats? And then from stomach ulcers that I had to get surgically removed.”

Eddie sits in the silence of his shop for a moment. He’d turn off the music for the day. Just to sit and calm himself. To recollect his mind and be able to figure out the numbers. He’s worked better in silence a good majority of his life. But now. Now, it’s suffocating. “What’s the next—“

“I have an appointment in three days to get it better looked at. They suggested a cancer center not too far from here. I’m driving out there. Get a better understanding of this,” he nonchalantly explains. As if, maybe, this isn’t affecting him as bad.

How is he not terrified, Eddie has to wonder.

Steve takes another deep breath. And on the exhale he admits what Eddie wanted to know, “I’m scared, Eds.” His voice tiny. Breaking in a way Eddie hasn’t heard since Steve’s seizure diagnosis back in 1987. He continues, “I don’t know—This is gonna be the way I die? I’ve sacrificed so much bullshit. And I die from fucking stomach cancer?” He’s getting angry. A place where Eddie won’t know how to calm him down over the phone.

“Stevie, honey, you’re not gonna die. That won’t happen—“

“How can you be so sure?” He sniffles and chuffs. “How can you be so sure that I won’t die from this, Eddie? That I just—That I just won’t wake up one day?”

“Because I know you, Steve,” Eddie urges. Voice becoming firm and large. “I know you. You fight things tooth and nail. You don’t like failure. And you don’t like giving up.” He stands from his stool at the counter. And paces up and down the aisles of miscellaneous records. The album their wedding song is from—The Stranger by Billy Joel—is tucked neatly at the front of the bin he stops at. It’s cover worn. Tattered. Aged with memories and time. His eyes are watering. “You don’t give up,” he pushes on. “You’re gonna get this checked out. If you have to do chemotherapy, I’ll be there to hold you and to steady the vomit bucket and to rub your back.” He sighs. “You don’t give up. And you trust me when I say right now, you won’t die.

“You won’t. You’re resilient and you’re lovely and you’re the beacon of light that everybody in our lives relies on. You are a torch, a flame. You are everything, Steve Harrington. This cancer will be nothing, you hear me?

“You live because you’re Steve Harrington, my husband. My husband and my soulmate.” With a sigh and his mucus slick voice, “And I love you.”

The other side is quiet. A stillness to it that horrifies him. Though, there is the background noise. Cars and wind and birds and people and cars and wind and birds and people and cars and wind and birds and—

“I’m scared,” Steve mutters again.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie says, shrinking back to softness. Because it’s true. And his heart is breaking. And there’s fire under his feet. The store is dusty and the blinds are shut. Everything is closing in on him. Music can’t save him from this. The silence, it’s suffocating, but it’s nearly all he can handle. “I know. I’m—I—I’m scared, too.” His heart is breaking further. And his hands are shaking. The thrum to his pulse is red hot and pouring into every crevice of his body. He’s a bag of blood with thoughts and feelings. Mushy and red. The sorrow on his tongue, bitter like bile. He wants to kiss Steve, wants to taste his morning breath, hear him whimper, feel the vibrations of every bitten back moan, the stretch of his sleepy smile. Wants to kiss the furrow between his eyebrows he knows is there. Wants to just hold him. Hold him and hold him and hold him. “I’m on my way home,” he rushes out. “Fuck this inventory bullshit. I’m coming home. I’ll pick up our Chinese food orders. We’ll put on a movie and I’ll scratch your scalp and we’ll forget about this until we have to go to that cancer center.”

“You don’t have to come with—“

“Of course I do,” Eddie guffaws. “My god, Steve. You’re all that matters to me, don’t you understand that? All I think about. What I dream about. Everything I do has a little bit of you in it. And everything I see is in the shape of your soul. And all I hear is your laughter. And all I smell is your skin.

“What other choice do I have? I’m going with you. You won’t be alone.” He’s panting, he realizes. His chest is tight and his stomach is twisting. There’s bile on his tongue. There’s bile in his throat. There’s bile and spit and breathlessness. But in the end, all that he has is love. “You won’t be alone,” he says once more. “Because I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Steve squeaks, his voice wet. “Drive safely, please. I don’t think I could plan a funeral and go through chemotherapy.”

Eddie’s fingers trace over his chest. He kisses his fingertips. Whispers, “Cross my heart, Stevie. Cross my heart, I will make it home to you.” And then his thumb hovers over the end call button. Waiting. Steve ends the call.

And all that’s holding Eddie is silence.

————— Let me know what y'all think. Also, don't hate me for making you have to wait a while until this chapter is out. But I felt like posting some angst after all my fluffy steddielovemonth prompts the last several days.

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 16 – DARK FIC

The Secret Side Of Me by sweetNsimple

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 12,684 Tags: Cannibalism, Vore, Fluff and Angst

Summary: Steve butted his forehead against Tony's. “I love you.” “I think it goes without saying that I might just feel the same way about you,” Tony drawled. “Maybe. I think I'd like to hear it anyway.” “Well, fine. I love you, Hannibal Lecter. Please don't feed me anymore people.” He smiled. “I'll see what I can do.”

Reasons why I love it: I like to call this one the "wholesome cannibalism fic". Seems like it might be a juxtaposition, but I promise you, it's not. The reasoning behind Steve's issues and actions is really sympathetic, and I love how it ties into the kinkier sides of this fic. Also, Tony's reaction to what Steve is doing feels very real and in character. This fic is lovely, so if you can stomach - haha - some self-harm and cannibalism, I highly encourage you to give it a try.

What Rough Beast by immoral_crow

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 6,343 Tags: Character Death, Super Soldier Serum, Love

Summary: Steve Rogers, super soldier. It’s amazing really that it takes them all so long to work out just what the serum can do… but given enough time all things become apparent. This is a story about love, and loss; the things we would do to be true to ourselves and true to our hearts; and the prices you must pay to do that.

Reasons why I love it: I don't want to spoil anything about this fic, so I'm just going to say that it's amazing and deeply sad and makes me want to cry every time I read it. Please go and experience it for yourself, it's fantastic!

Apricity by nostalgicatsea

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,542 Tags: Dark Steve, Mental Instability, Murder

Summary: Tony came to him, warm and bright like summer to his everlasting winter. Steve would do anything to keep him forever.

Reasons why I love it: Seeing how unhinged Steve is after the ice is really sad. I love the explanation that nostalgicatsea gives as to why Steve does what he does in regards to his obsession with Tony. It makes sense in a really twisted way. This fic is amazing, and I highly encourage you to read it!

Things We'd Held in Secret by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

Pairing: Steve/Bucky Rating: E Words: 11,146 Tags: Cannibalism, Super Soldier Serum, Rituals

Summary: Steve and Bucky were trapped together behind enemy lines in 1944. Bucky was badly injured, and for days Steve fed him the only way he could with no supplies on hand but a sharp knife. Bucky didn't understand what was happening at the time, and afterward there was never a good time to tell him--but now that Steve knows what he really did for Bucky, the secret is going to have to come out.

Reasons why I love it: If I had a dollar for every time I read wholesome cannibalism fic, I'd have two, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. The reasoning behind the cannibalism in this fic is so emotional, especially on the second go around. And oh my god, Bucky just breaks my heart here. I adore this fic, and I hope you give it a shot yourself!

I Wish You Were a Monster by Anonymous

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,220 Tags: Pedophilia, Past Non-Con, Child Abuse

Summary: Steve has a terrible secret. One he'll never act upon. He never acts on these desires, but he struggles with them, because he knows how wrong they are.

Reasons why I love it: This fic is really hard to read, but it's some incredible food for thought. The whole subject is handled very delicately and dare I say ethically, and I loved seeing a perspective that isn't obvious at first glance. Which is why I think this fic is very important, even outside of fandom. If you read this one, let me know what you think, because I'm very curious how other people might interpret this fic.

[emeraldiis]

Cross Country Love Affair // Montana (10)

A/N: fuck it 2 chapters in 2 days

CCLA Masterlist

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary:  Bucky makes your blood boil like no other man can. In a twisted turn of events, the two of you are stuck on a road trip from hell. This fic follows Bucky and the reader from Florida all the way to Washington state. Nothing like being trapped in a car for fifty hours to break the ice. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or something like that.

Warnings:  canon typical violence, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, recreational drug use

It was nearly midnight when you finally pulled off the road in Montana. Sam’s new rule meant no motels, so you had to settle for some abandoned campsite just a few miles from the highway. It had everything you needed: a bathroom, cover from the road, and…well, that was pretty much it. The rocky ground bounced the van to and fro and you eased it to the back of the clearing, until finally throwing it in park and leaning back in your seat with a sigh.

Bucky was the first one out of the van, stretching his legs and wandering around the site. You waited a moment before following him, making a beeline to the bathroom. You didn’t have to pee that bad, really, but you needed a bit of space from Bucky and his piercing stare. Your mind was still in shambles from what he’d said hours ago, reeling from the unexpected confession. It wasn’t a confession, you reminded yourself again. He wasn’t being serious, it was more an off handed comment if anything. 

The bathroom was little more than a toilet seat over a hole in the ground, and you let your disgust distract you from your swirling emotions. There was no mirror, either, so you settled for using your phone camera to brush your hair through your fingers and rub your eyes. You’d been driving so long that your vision was swimming. Bucky had offered to switch a few times, but you’d declined under the guise of needing something to keep you occupied. It wasn’t exactly far from the truth; being alone with your thoughts right now wouldn’t do you any good.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Bucky was still pacing the clearing. “Stretching my legs,” he mumbled when you gave him a questioning glance. 

You nodded and let him be, walking over to the back of the van and pulling open the double doors. You grimaced at the slight musty smell and climbed in, then delicately picked up one of the blankets and gave it a sniff. To your relief, it actually smelled alright, and you couldn’t see any suspicious stains anywhere. 

“The back isn’t actually that gross,” you called out to Bucky. He paused and walked back, peering in.

“We’re going to catch so many diseases sleeping back here,” he said, eyeing the old blankets with distaste.

You shrugged and moved aside so he could hop in. You’d had worse. It wasn’t as cramped as it seemed, thankfully. You were able to sit down against one of the side walls and stretch your legs out. Bucky slumped down across from you, his legs parallel to yours.

“I wish we could turn the fairy lights on,” you said, casting a wistful glance at the string of lights crisscrossing the walls. The moonlight shining through the back window was more than enough to keep your bearings, but you had to squint to see Bucky’s face across the van.

Bucky shook his head at you. “It’d drain the battery, not a good idea.” He sounded exhausted, a rough growl to his voice that made your stomach flip. 

You grabbed a blanket to stretch it out beneath you, but something small caught your eye as it tumbled out of the blanket and to the ground. Hands reaching out, you bent low and narrowed your eyes, searching for the mystery object. Your fingers closed around a thin white tube. Oh, fucking jackpot.

With a mock cheer, you held your prize up, eyeing it with delight. “This is the best day ever.”

Bucky eyed the joint in your hand and twisted his mouth in disapproval. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” you whined, sounding like a spoiled child and not caring at all. “What’s the harm? This place is way safer than the motel.” You knew he was right, it was a bad idea. But you needed some stress relief, lest you turn back into the grumpy sourpuss that came out when you were tired.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “I’m not saving you if we get jumped and you’re too high to fight.” A beat. “And you don’t even know what’s in th—ugh!”

You had shoved the joint directly under his nose, catching him off guard. “Go on,” you goaded with a small laugh. “Use your super soldier nose, what’s in this joint? Anything sketchy?”

Bucky’s eyes flew open and he glared at you, eyes glinting in the dark. “I’m not a drug dog,” he trailed off, then sighed after taking a small sniff. “God dammit. It’s actually fine, there’s only weed in there. Bit stale, though.”

With a shout of glee, you tore the joint away from Bucky’s face and shoved your hand into your jacket pocket. “Come on, I know I have a lighter here somewhere,” you mumbled to yourself. Finally feeling your fingers close around cold plastic, you whipped out the lighter and angled it in front of the joint. “Don’t tell Sam.”

“Whatever.” Bucky watched as you brought the joint to your lips, lighting it and taking a long drag. His face screwed up when you purposefully blew the smoke at him. 

The satisfying pull of smoke into your lungs felt almost orgasmic. You didn’t even cough, just sighed long and low and relaxed back onto the wall. “You want some?” You asked. Even if Bucky wasn’t capable of getting high, you figured it’d be rude not to offer.

He looked torn. His eyes flickered back and forth between the joint and your lips, until finally he groaned. “Fuck it, give it here.” You smiled giddily as you passed it over. Bucky closed his eyes and took a drag, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth before inhaling it through his nose.

“Who taught you how to French inhale?” Your mouth was open in a dumb look of surprise. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but here you were, blood rushing between your legs as you reached for the joint again.

Bucky shrugged and smirked at you, like he was completely aware of what he was doing to you.. “I’ve been alive over a hundred years, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“No kidding,” you mumbled, taking another hit before passing it back.

When the joint grew too small to hold and your vision grew hazy, you snuffed it out on the van floor and tossed it to the side. “Holy fuck,” you said, dragging your hands across your face. Your tongue felt heavy. “I’m so high.”

Bucky snickered. “Weak ass.”

You tried to glare at him, but it was like you were moving through thick soup. Every movement was slow. And it felt amazing. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything.” 

With an exasperated huff, Bucky thought for a moment before finally admitting, “Okay, maybe a little.” He grinned and tilted his head back, closing his eyes again. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

You took a moment to admire him, his skin almost glowing in the low moonlight. He looked more relaxed than you’d see him in days, legs splayed out in front of him and neck stretched in a way that made you want to bite it. A blush rose to your cheeks as you tried and failed to turn your eyes away from him. Was it just the high, or did his lap always look so comfortable? 

Bucky snapped his head up to look at you. Ah, shit. You must’ve said that out loud. “You’re fuckin’ high,” he said, then snorted out a laugh. 

“It’s true, though,” you tried to defend yourself. “You got these, these huge ass super soldier thighs, and they look a hell of a lot more comfortable than the van floor.” You set your jaw, refusing to let yourself speak anymore. Turned out you couldn’t trust yourself not to ramble when you smoked, noted.

As your eyes adjusted more and more to the low light, you could see the red ring around Bucky’s irises. His eyelids had sunken down until he was staring at you from under his lashes, and fuck if that didn’t do things to you. “C’mere, then.”

Wait. Had he actually invited you to sit on his lap, or had you imagined it? You were convinced you were going to make an ass out of yourself before the night was over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when Bucky was looking at you expectantly and crooking a finger, beckoning you closer.

Swallowing hard, you crawled the short distance until you were kneeling in front of him. “I’m too high for you to fuck with me right now, Barnes,” you warned. Part of you buzzed with anxiety at the thought that this could end up as a repeat of the earlier incident, but the way Bucky’s tongue flicked out to drag across his bottom lip told you otherwise.

“I said, come here,” he drawled as he took hold of your hips and pulled until you were straddling his lap. 

You were stunned into silence. Your heart raced and you desperately searched for something to say, anything to break the tension. It would’ve been so much easier if Bucky would stop staring at you like that. Like he wanted so much more than just your weight on his legs. 

He grinned lazily and eased his grip on your waist, fingers playing idly with the fabric of your shirt. “You’re so cute when you’re not insulting me,” he murmured.

“You’re high,” you said dumbly. It was the only thing you could think to say. You needed to take back control of the situation somehow, but you had no idea how. He had you wrapped around his finger like some sort of blushing virgin.

His voice was barely more than a breath when he replied. “So are you.” Slowly, his hands left your hips to trail over your thighs, the touch sending sparks up your skin. You watched suspiciously as his eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up, then down again. “Fuck,” he cursed softly. “This is a bad idea.”

You couldn’t keep up. “What’s a bad id—mm.” You were cut off as Bucky sat up to press his lips into yours. Your brain short circuited as you froze, mouth still against his as your head spun. Feeling your hesitation, he began to pull away, but your hands flying up to his hair held him in place. You decided to throw caution and feelings to the wind as you finally melded your lips to his and kissed him back with fervor.

Bucky groaned softly and leaned in closer, fingers digging into the fabric of your jeans as you kissed each other breathless.

It was all too much. The slick glide of his mouth, the strands of his hair tangled in your fingers, the daze of the high still amplifying your senses. You broke away and gasped for air, eyes wide and wild. As good as it felt, you knew that if the two of you were sober, this would never be happening. “We should stop.” It pained you to say, but it was the responsible decision.

“I don’t want to stop,” Bucky murmured as he ducked his head to nuzzle beneath your jaw. “Feels good.” 

You wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to forget everything from the past few days, but you couldn’t. Not when neither of you were in your right mind, when you’d be back at each other’s throats as soon as the smoke faded from your head. 

But it was more than that. Kissing Bucky had felt so right, and you knew that going any further would send you reeling into a hole that you weren’t sure you could climb out of. You couldn’t just be one of Bucky’s hookups, you couldn’t go back to normal if this didn’t stop right the hell now.

Heart aching, you untangled your hands from his hair and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back. “Bucky.” you said softly but insistently. “No.”

He pulled away instantly, blue eyes wide and confused and hurt. It made your chest tighten, but you steeled your resolve. “But I thought,” he bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. “Did I read this wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you clambered off of his lap and back to your side of the van. Now that you weren’t pressed against him, it was easier to think clearly, to arrange your thoughts in a way that made almost-sense. “I-it’s nice, but I can’t. We’re both high. Tomorrow we’ll go back to hating each other and, and I don’t want to make things worse. This just isn’t right.” You took a deep breath before dealing the final blow. “I don’t want this.”

“Yeah.” Bucky looked down at the floor, jaw clenched and face set in a stony expression. “Yeah, okay.” He grabbed a blanket from the pile and pulled it up, leaning back against the wall for a final time. “‘Night.”

The van fell silent. You knew he was upset. You were, too. But it was easier to pretend like your body wasn’t aching for his, easier to keep things the way they were. Slowly but oh so surely, you were falling for Bucky. It was entirely against your will, but all the feelings of hate and anger were dissolving into something far more intense, and that terrified you. You wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt you. You couldn’t.

Feeling empty and cold as you pulled your own blanket tight around you, you closed your eyes and let the heavy silence and lingering exhausting pull you into a dreamless sleep.

[krankittoeleven]

a little bit ago @vault-heck tagged me for WIP Wednesday. Yes, I know it's Monday. Look, WIP Wednesday is, like a state of mind, ok? xD

I'd love to share something from Water of Life but I am currently in a war with CH 13 and I don't want to share anything I haven't already shared. So instead I will share this chunk from the unplanned sequel to my Trigun 1998 Vashwood fix-it fic But Like a Refugee. I'd love to link it BUT A03 is down again so I can't lol

Anyway, here is the (still rough state) opening for the sequel, which takes place 10 years after the previous fic (yes this could, in a roundabout way, spoil something for Trigun 1998):

Wolfwood’s eye’s flutter open, refusing to focus right away, at least not until the memory of drifting, floating feathers clear completely from his head. Something had woken him from his dream, but he’s not sure what. Maybe it had been nothing but the usual things that go bump in the night, the things that posed no threat, but still woke him sometimes. Like Vash breathing too loudly, or moving to quickly. Even after so many years, it still happened—

A soft knock on the door in the dead silence of the night sets Wolfwood’s heart fluttering, he had not been expecting it, and it did have an eerie quality to it; a barely heard noise, but it wouldn’t surprise him if that was what woke him. In sleep he was even more vigilant than in waking. Behind him, Vash mutters something mostly unintelligible. He too was a vigilant sleeper.

“I’ll take care of it, go back to sleep,” he says to Vash, and then to the door: “Who is it?”

“Woof woof, I need water,” a tiny voice says through the door. It does sound a little hoarse and dry.

Wolfwood smiles, “Just a second honey, let me get dressed.”

Immediately he had known who the voice belonged to: Danny who was always quick to point out her name was spelled with a Y and not an I. Danny, who was sometimes fussy and sometimes not. Danny who called him Woof Woof because she misheard his name on introduction. Almost all of the kids had a different nickname for him, he thought it was sweet, but he also thought it was some sort of cosmic retribution for the years of nicknames that he had pummeled Vash with. For every Needle Noggin, Spikie, Tongari, Blondie, Pinhead, Pincushion et cetera there was now a Woof Woof, Woofy, Nico, Nicky, Wolf, Woody, Smoky and others. In a small bid to win back a portion of his sanity, he had recently started calling Vash Angel and rarely anything else, while Vash always called him Nick. Through some sort of unspoken agreement the kids seemed to understand that those names were between them and them alone.

Rolling out of bed, Wolfwood finds his discarded clothes from earlier and slips back into them. He’s waking up more now, but he’s still not very graceful on his feet. On the bed, Vash rolls over to face him.

“Did we forget to fill the jugs?” Vash asks, mumbling in a way only Wolfwood could decipher after years of interpreting Vash’s sleep talk.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so,” Wolfwood replies. “You know how she is. She’s funny about the water sometimes.”

“I am not!” Danny says through the door, just loud enough to be heard.

They both laugh as Wolfwood stuffs his smokes and lighter into his pants pocket, then steps over to Vash’s side of the bed and leans down to kiss him on the temple, then his cheek and finally the corner of his mouth. “Go back to sleep,” he says. Vash hmmms and gently swipes a thumb along Wolfwood’s jawline before his hand drops down to the mattress. Behind him he can hear the faintest sounds of lips smacking, as if a small child is projecting how thirsty they are.

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. “I’m comin’ girl, I’m comin’.”

As often is the case when he steps from their humble little box they call a home and into the courtyard that separates it from the orphanage, Wolfwood is softly punched in the gut by a mix of emotions. Even after ten years of living there, it is hard for him to believe that this is his life now, that this was what everything had led up to. That this is what he very nearly missed out on.

Beside him, Danny takes his hand, as if she were afraid to cross back the way she had come on her own. She almost startles a jump out of him. He had, to his chagrin, almost forgotten why he was standing there in the first place. Sometimes these little moments he had were just too powerful.

Together they cross the courtyard, mostly in silence, but Wolfwood is curious about the water.

“Now, be honest,” he starts, trying to sound as genuinely not-judgy as he can. “Are the jugs really empty or did you just want fresh water?”

Danny remains silent for a few more steps and then says: “It’s colder from the tap.”

Well, at least they hadn’t neglected to leave the kids water for the night, he thinks as they walk passed the Punisher, now decommissioned and standing in the courtyard like a guardian instead of a weapon.

"Alright, let's get you some water."

Thanks for reading :D Not 100% sure when this will be done, but it's a cloud to float on for a bit.

[taegularities]

right, sorry for not mentioning things earlier 😅 so a fluff drabble for soaring high with tae, oc and jae? a day out! where jae misses oc and tries to call her with tae's phone or something lmaoo

anonymous said: bae i rlly need a drabble to see what souring high!tae is like when they’re finally alone 😮‍💨😮‍💨❤️ u could literally do anything that u want !!

fic: soaring high pairing: dilf!taehyung x reader warnings: a cute son, a cute dad, a cute relationship between said son and oc; tae loves to watch them play. he really is into oc, he just doesn’t say it smh. super sweet dilf!tae <3, explicit sexual content: fingering implied, he bends her over, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it), manhandling, multiple rounds of sex implied, he’s so hungry and a beast, dom!tae, degradation; a whole lotta fluff too <3 wc: 1.5k (damn??) a/n: i thought i could merge those two requests into one !! hope that's okay and that u guys like it 🥰 if u’d like to indulge in the fluff parts only, u can totally stop reading after they drop off jae at his friend’s place. and do lmk what u think! <333 also totally unedited again, i apologise 😭 

ask my character! (no more drabble requests, please!) <3

––

The sun shines onto the park pleasantly, the sky an azure blue and busy voices sounding all around. Children are busy exploring every corner of the place; one has been chasing a squirrel for over twenty minutes, Taehyung is sure.

Except his own spawn.

Immersed in the wonders of technology, he taps around Taehyung’s phone; most of the apps don’t interest him much, too adult-y, and too colourless.

His eyes dart between various symbols, not quite sure what to settle on. He sighs, somehow focused on both exploring and rambling. Taehyung has been nodding and humming for half an hour, listening to his son’s stories about kindergarten and teasing girls.

And when the narration ends, Taehyung waits for a moment. Reckons the tale is over, that his son has vented his chest off once and for all – but when he glances over to him, looking down at his wiggling legs and content smile, he realises why silence has descended upon them.

“What... wait, what are you doing?”

The phone rings. And then, your voice chimes through. Jae knows the functions enough to apparently not just recognise the picture Taehyung set for you on his phone, but to put a call on loudspeaker, too.

“Where are you?” Jae yells, and you make a sound that indicates you’re taken aback.

Then, a giggle sounds through the phone, and you fall back into your toddler voice as you ask, “Heyyyy, Jae, how are we doing? I’m at home.”

“Can you come to the park?”

Taehyung watches with furrowed eyebrows, close to snatching the phone from his son before he sees the delight in his boy’s eyes.

“Which park, baby?” you ask, still laughing.

“Uhm... near my kindergarten.”

“Right now?”

“Please?”

“You don’t have to,” Taehyung’s voice interrupts, and Jae looks at him as though he’s noticing just now that his father is right next to him, watching him.

There’s a small pause, a chiming of keys, a hum; then, you say, “It’s okay. I’m not doing anything today anyway.”

Because who are you to deny any request the little man might have? You can’t remember ever saying no – Taehyung says you spoil him too much. You call it “making his kid love me”.

And as he wished, you find yourself in the park around twenty-five minutes later; Jae’s eyes light up – genuinely delighted. Stars in his eyes that resemble the ones in his father’s gaze.

Previously busy with digging holes in the sandbox, he gasps; runs towards you with his little yet fast feet, clinging onto you as if he didn’t see you just last weekend.

Taehyung never says much when Jae and you play around. He enjoys the scene, enjoys the way you whisper secrets into each other’s ears; or how you let him win every game of rock, paper, scissors.

How he chuckles and falls back onto the couch when you crack a stupid joke or tell him a story from work.

“I forgot the shovel,” he tells you loudly, looking at you wide wide, shocked eyes. “We can’t make a sandcastle!”

“Oh no!” you exclaim; both your gazes drift to Taehyung’s, seeking help.

“Daddy, can I go and get it?”

But his beloved father kills both your hopes with one shake of his head, wiggling a finger as he says, “You’re invited at Chae’s. Maybe she has a shovel and you can play in her garden.”

“But–”

Jae looks between you and his dad, pleading and innocent.

“You can’t let a friend wait, Jae,” Taehyung scolds, standing from the bench. The beige slacks are smooth, hugging his waist where he tucked his white shirt in. The shape of his body is so alluring – the curves, edges and bulges leave nothing to imagination.

As always.

And your insides keep buzzing. Keep twirling as you look at him. Watch him talk to Jae, smiling softly, talking to him, reprimanding him. Telling him that he’d pick him up around eight, and that he needs to behave if he wants to eat his favourite pasta dish tonight.

Before you know it, you’re left alone with the man who asked for your number after a flight months ago. The man who rearranged your insides, anything but shy, a demon and lovely father at once.

But now that you look at him, his eyes are tender. Sweet and soft, housing care for not just his son and his relationship to you, but for you as a person, too.

Taehyung’s two-story-flat isn’t too far from little Chae’s house, so you decide to walk the small distance to his place.

Being alone with Taehyung never really comes with awkwardness. It has become your own personal source of comfort; one you cherish. One you think back to when the moments are over.

“What were you doing all day?” he asks, thumbs in the pockets of his pants.

“Was just rewatching my favourite show. I’m glad you guys called.”

“Well... Jae called.”

“Yeah, technically,” you say, smiling, your steps slow and relaxed.”

“Gilmore Girls, was it?” Taehyung then guesses, squinting one eye shut in concentration.

“You remember my favourite show? That’s flattering.”

“I uh,” he starts, swallowing, “I remember your favourite dessert, too. And your favourite drink. If you want, we could...”

You wait, looking at him in anticipation; he looks sweet when he’s shy. Utterly different from when he batters your body. He licks his plush lips, and you wait some more before you ask, “Yeah?”

“If you want, we could go to my place, and... eat some dessert?”

You laugh.

You know what that means.

First he eats his favourite dessert – pretty much swallows it whole. Then he lets you eat yours.

And then, he finally opens his fridge and takes out the actual delicacy.

“You know my dearest pastime,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“Jae was missing you.”

“Although we met last week?”

“Mmmh, honestly, he can’t ever stop talking about you anyway.”

And Taehyung enjoys it. Loves to hear your name, basks in the pictures of you that his son calls forth.

“And,” he hesitates, licking his lips again, “I talk about you a lot, too.”

You almost halt in your steps; your heart falls down deep and lands in front of his feet. It does the same whenever he mumbles things like these – you might never get used to it.

“What is it that you talk about?” you ask.

“Just... I ask him what he thinks of you. Then I tell him what I think of you.”

“And what you think of me is...”

“Is for me to know and for you to find out.”

“Unfair.”

You hit his shoulder playfully right when you arrive in front of his entrance door. One hand of his holds his keys – but the other grabs your softly violent wrist, tugging your body close before he whispers, “Gonna treat you fairly to make it all good... ‘kay?”

Here he is. The beast you know.

The beast you still haven’t grown used to. The beast who pulls you inside his apartment, pushes you against the door. Growls against your skin, holding your arms over your head.

Mumbling curses against your flesh, eyes closed, groaning and lost.

He licks a trail along your neck. Tugs at your panties, shifting up your dress.

Taehyung’s slender fingers explore your shivering body, digging deep where you want him most.

“Pretty little cum dumpster,” he murmurs in between his actions; words so sore, actions so raw. “Prettiest woman in this neighbourhood.”

“Just this neighbourhood, huh?” you moan, laughing, eliciting a chuckle out of him as well.

“Just scared to use the word universe, ‘cause... you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

You want to remark something, but words die in your throat once he bends you over his desk, pushing away his books and stationery. 

His cock is throbbing, hard, slick with his own spit when he enters you caringly. A hand rests on the small of your back, the other holding your wrists under your shoulder blades.

He caresses your skin, pumps into you harshly, harder, a deep baritone assuring, “You’re the fucking best pussy I’ve ever fucked. God, I wanna... wanna–”

“Wha– what?”

���I don’t want you to be able to walk for fucking days, baby.”

He says that every time. And he keeps the promise every time.

His hand comes down to clutch the flesh of your ass tightly, slapping against it, pushing it up; and then, he repeats. Until your bottom feels bruised, aching and tingling.

Just how you like it best – he knows.

And when his thumb circles your clit, feeling your cunt clench around his veiny, thick cock, he lets go the moment you do. Synchronised, crazed, loud.

“Fuck, fuck, yeah, I–”

“Taehyung, I can’t feel... my limbs.”

Of course you can’t. His grip cuts off the bloodstream in your arms, and your legs jiggle like pudding, close to giving out.

But his arms are strong and steady. Keep you afloat, his body pressed against yours. 

He keeps you close, panting against your ears, ready for another round after your beloved dessert.

He wonders, “What do you think how many rounds we can go before I need to pick up Jae again?”

Cheeks pressed against the cold desk, you smile, readying your body for an evening of exhaustion and pleasure. Digging your nails into your palm, you wet your dry lips, open your eyes and say, “Let’s find out.”

DAMN THIS WAS........ longer than expected holy. please do let me know what u think !! <333

[leviathanspain]

Hi! I also need to some ideas for a moon knight fic and here are some prompts I came up with.❤️

Reader is a single mom who brings their kid to the museum, Steven has a massive crush on her, he loves talking to your kid and getting to know you, always with this desperate love sick puppy dog look on his face, so you entertain him. Big mistake.

But then he starts forming an unhealthy obsession about her.

He dreams of this fantasy where your his adorable little housewife and he gets to spoil you and your child, and he’ll give you as many more as you want to!

He just needs to get rid of peoples getting in his way, namely your ex… but Marc is here to save you! He loves you guys just as much and won’t mind helping out!

( he could literally just be making up that your single and that your current husband is actually your ex. He could kidnap her or just infiltrate her life or you whatever else)

Good luck!!!!

adore you

warnings: this is a dark!fic so mentions of sex, unhealthy obsession, abuse, housewife!reader

stalker!steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader, jake lockley x reader

synopsis: your five year old son loves the museum and loves egypt, and the man behind the gift shop counter can’t keep his eyes off you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“mum!” your son shouted for you, his small hands reaching for the plush at the top shelf. he was on his toes, stretching out for the plush when rough hands grabbed the plush and gave it to him. you looked up to follow the hands and saw the gift shop worker, he looked oddly familiar but you came to the museum enough that you didn’t think much of it.

“teddy!” you grabbed your son by the shoulder and led him to the cash register, you bent down to his level and lightly scolded him, “don’t just walk away, you could get lost or worse!” teddy was too young to understand the concept of worse but his expression of fear was enough to satisfy you.

you grabbed the plush from his hands and gazed at it, “what is this?” it was a grey, fuzzy dog looking cat thing.

“it’s a sphinx.” teddy mumbled, reaching out for the sphinx.

“why is it grey?” you questioned and the man at the register cut in suddenly.

“it’s not supposed to be grey but the manufacturers don’t know egypt the way we do.” he looked at teddy who smiled brightly.

you peeked an eye at them before rummaging in your purse for your wallet. you grabbed the debit card from inside.

“theodore?” the man at the counter asked when he saw the debit card ran.

“im y/n.” you responded and hoped he could put two and two together.

steven couldn’t feel anything other than rage at the revelation. his beloved had a psycho ex! the psycho ex who abused her, used her and left her! he was furious, and when you pulled his card out, he nearly lost it! he was so controlling he wanted to monitor your purchases-

hey buddy, calm down. the voice in his head called out, and steven shoved marc back, leave me alone, you don’t understand..she needs me!

marc sighed in response. marc knew what you had going on. your husband was incredibly wealthy and so you spent your time raising your son, taking him to trips and places, and spending time in the park all day basically. he had observed you when steven had gone out on his stalker rampages. but you were married, and completely devoted to being a mother. you were a nice woman, even when you noticed steven behind your shoulder at the park, you chose to ignore him, ignore his glazed over gaze today at the museum when you were in the shop.

you walked out with teddy, holding his little hand in yours as you brushed off the weird feeling you were beginning to get. you and teddy stood outside the shop while you fished your phone out. steven watched you quietly and took note of how your dress was hugging your curves. he loved when you wore dresses. he imagined that you didn’t wear panties under the dress, waiting for anyone and everyone to fuck you and fill you up with their seed.

steven wanted that. he wanted to fill you up to the brim while you begged for him to give you another baby.

“can i take my break?” steven asked to no one in particular as he walked out of the shop, half dazed as he saw a black car pull up in front of you. steven stifled a scream as he saw you get in with your son.

“no!” he shouted, and watched the car speed off. steven had half a mind to chase after you, afraid of you being hurt. but his manager was already yelling for his return, and he obliged, knowing he could just go visit you from your window.

“..and so he was being friendly with teddy but you know how i feel about strangers talking to my kid. you can’t trust anyone these days..” you muttered to your husband as you sat with him on the bed. theodore, also called teddy, was a kind man whom you had been with for a few years. you loved him, and he loved you.

“i understand. are you sure though? that he isn’t just some nice worker? maybe he gets watched at his job?” your husband offered to help calm your suspicions but you shrugged, “you know how annoyed i got when old ladies would come and try to touch my belly. especially when people my age did it!” you grabbed lotion and warmed it in your hands before setting it on your limbs, “i’m not some carnival attraction for people.”

teddy nodded, “well. stop thinking so much and come to bed.” his tone was warm, and so you joined him, letting your head rest on his chest as he thought.

“what if you just stop going?” he asked, and you shook your head, “he’s your son. he’s stubborn as hell and will put up a fight.” teddy laughed and you joined him despite your anger.

teddy pulled back, “i’m going to get water. do you want some?” you nodded, and felt him leave. you leaned back on the pillows and gazed outside the gigantic windows of your bedroom and you closed your eyes and waited for your husband.

steven, you’re fucking crazy. marc cursed at steven who shrugged off the fact that what he was doing was wrong. i just want her to be safe! i need to know she’s safe from that maniac.

you’re the maniac! steven it’s not just you who’ll go to jail, it’s both of us! he screamed and steven was beginning a response until he saw a man coming up to your nightstand, setting a glass of water and going over to the other side and doing the same. steven huffed a breath of anger as he saw the man lie down next to you, and began to kiss your body.

“get the fuck off of her!” he yelled but he couldn’t hear him, and marc couldn’t hear your warning of steven.

you kissed your husband back, hands lightly grazing the stubble of his beard as he ran a hand down your waist and to your supple thighs. he tugged on your hair as he kissed your neck, fingers making their way into your panties, lightly grazing the fabric before pulling them off lightly. you began to moan as your husband touched you but you jumped when you heard the thumping of the front door. your building was supposed to have a doorman that wouldn’t let people come knocking at your door at 1 am. you got a sudden chill as you grabbed your husbands arm, “don’t go.” you begged.

you husband smiled, thinking that you were just needy, but again the door pulsed with anger of the knock. you sighed and watched your husband leave the bedroom.

you listened carefully to hear the stifle of your husbands words as a body thumped to the ground. your blood went cold as you stood up, body fighting to stay frozen before you tugged on your nightgown and began to run down to your sons bedroom.

the apartment was large so you hoped it would take whoever was doing this, long enough to not find you.

you had barely reached the front of your sons bedroom when you felt a sharp stab in your shoulder. you tumbled down to the floor as your head knocked on the vase and glass table, breaking them both and knocking you out.

you felt a cold hand patting your cheek, blinking, you looked up to find the man from the gift shop. you tried to scream but found a ball gag in your mouth. you tried to get up but found you ankles tied to the bedposts. you panicked and rattled the chains on your ankles and found your hands bound on either side of you.

“hi. im steven.” the man above you smiled down at you and you screamed in response.

what the fuck is wrong with you steven?! marc yelled, let her go! so she can put us away in a psych ward!

steven ignored marc’s voice and grabbed the ball gag and took it down to let you speak.

your terror was enough to render you speechless, “wha-why?”

steven shrugged, “your ex husband- he was attacking you. i needed to save you, my precious girl.” he cooed at the end and that’s when you realized who he was.

“marc?” you whispered as you gazed into the man’s eyes.

steven shook his head, anger crossing his features, “n-no- i just- im steven. my name is steven. marc isn’t here.”

you shook your head, “no. you’re marc spector. we went to highschool together-“ you laughed, “i knew i had a bad memory but-“ you had finished school in the states before you met your husband and moved to london. it’s been a long fifteen or so years since.

no way, marc echoed in his head, y/n! we were science partners in chemistry! marc fought steven and suddenly, the man above you pulled back, and the entire demeanor changed.

“let me go, marc..” you begged, tears on your face. “please- my son-“ you cried, “is this revenge for not going to prom with you?”

marc shook his head, memories flooding back to him, “no- i-“ marc found himself stuttering, words were getting harder to form as he fell back, leaning onto the dresser as a third alter, moved forward, past marc and steven.

he stepped up to your side and smiled down at you, finger trailed on your nightgown, pulling up to reveal your bare cunt, “both of them are too scared to do what i’ve been wanting to do.. ever since you rejected me from prom.” the tone of voice was enough to send you screaming, and you fought as the ball gag was placed back on your mouth.

[inkykeiji]

you’re like a drug to me, a luxury, my sugar and gold

character: gojou satoru

genre: smut with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

notes: aaaaah first jjk fic ever!!!! uhhh this is honestly just pure smut and punishment, satoru is a Bad Daddy, and it’s set in a curseless AU | title cred: handclap by fitz and the tantrums

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, slight size difference/size kink, belly bulge, spanking with a belt, rough sex, minimal prep, minimal aftercare (at first), toxic and unhealthy relationship (satoru is mean n a bad daddy!), daddy kink/slightly implied ddlg dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

words: 3.1k

synopsis:

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

Gojou Satoru is a bad Daddy.

He’s a sweet Daddy, a silly Daddy, a Daddy who’s almost incapable of saying no. He’s a Daddy with a massive sweet tooth, a Daddy who frequently allows both of you to have dessert before dinner—sometimes dessert for dinner—and a Daddy who gives his princess nearly everything she desires, weak to your pretty pout and puppy-dog eyes and please, Daddy?’s. He hates to deny you, aches at the thought of you being even just a teensy bit displeased, because he wants his baby happy, always.

It’s his fault, really, you’re saying, insisting, when he calls you a spoiled brat. Because, honestly, it is; Satoru is entitled—he always has been, born with a not silver, not gold, but platinum spoon in his mouth—and his little princess is entitled, too.

Because he gives you anything and everything you ask for the moment the demand leaves your mouth, dotes on you hand and foot, absolutely adores you, lavishing you in the finest silks and prettiest lace, always indulging you just as much as he indulges himself—as much as he has always been indulged, growing up filthy rich.

Because you weren’t always like this; or, at least, you weren’t always this brash about it.

But years of getting exactly what you want, exactly when you want it, has forced your attitude to change, to shift.

You haven’t changed, Satoru tells you one day, a tub full of melty ice cream in his lap as he shovels another spoonful into your mouth, waning sun bathing the penthouse terrace in translucent gold and coral, brilliant colours reflected in his crystal eyes. “I didn’t do anything—I simply revealed your true nature,” A devious little smirk spreads across his lips, eyes glinting in an almost ominous nature, and you shiver. “You’ve always been a selfish materialistic brat, haven’t you?”

Well, you guess he has a point.

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

It’s always something little, after a day full of disobedience, that does it, that finally lights the fuse and forces an explosion. Something that would normally be inconsequential, something he’d usually laugh off with a coo and a loving pat to your head.

Because you fought him on bedtime last night, then fought him on going to university this morning. You demanded pancakes for breakfast and when he denied them to you, because he’s got an important meeting in the afternoon and thus hasn’t the time to make them, you refused to eat anything at all—only to whine and bitch and complain about how starved you were for the entire duration of his conference. And yet, throughout it all, he was the perfect picture of patience, endlessly cool and nonchalant in his responses to your multiple tantrums.

Until you rushed into the kitchen in a famished frenzy, diving straight for the cookie jar and shoving three in your mouth.

“Sweets are not an appropriate dinner, baby,”

The words are sighed out in pure exasperation, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, lids shut tightly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you tilt your head in confusion, speaking around your mouthful. “Since when?”

His eyes snap open, blazing azure glaring at you with such an intensity it makes you flinch, cookie crumbs turning to ash in your mouth.

“Since forever,” he seethes, mask of impassivity finally beginning to break.

“What?” you laugh around the word, but it trembles. “What are you talking about? You rarely enforce that rule—especially since you don’t even follow it yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps, nostrils flaring with a particularly harsh exhale. “I am the boss, and what I say goes,”

“Daddy!” A sock-clad foot stomps against the marble floor as you whine out the word, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “That isn’t fair! You can’t just—”

“Enough with this attitude!” he snarls, moving like a crack of lighting as he lunges at you, lithe arms embracing you in an iron grip. “I can, and I will,”

And then he’s hauling you over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around you and pinning you draped over his body, delivering swift, harsh slaps to your ass every time you kick your feet or beat your fists against his back, while every whine and complaint earns you another spank in his mind, mentally tallying them up and vocalizing the thought a moment later.

“You’re being a meanie,”

“That’s twelve,” he growls.

“I don’t care!”

“Thirteen.”

“So what?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s nothing,”

“Twenty-five.”

And that—that gets you to pause, but not to halt, not to stop, potent brattiness mixing with fury as it boils in your chest, the need to defy, to disobey, burning through your veins.

“I-I can handle that,”

“Thirty,” his voice is calm—serene, almost—and ice cold. There’s an underlying challenge sown into it, daring you to try him again, to utter another word. He’ll go higher, you can almost hear his apathetic voice floating through your mind; he’ll go as high as he needs to in order to teach such an ungrateful little brat a lesson.

Thirty it is.

The buckle of his favourite belt jingles as he undoes it, that dainty clink! forcing shivers to pebble across your naked skin, pressing your chest further into the foot of his bed, fingers curling in cashmere.

You’ve developed a love-hate relationship with that belt; it’s so fun when you get to undo it yourself, gentle fingers tugging and toying as you squirm eagerly in his lap, yet the clank and clattering of that heavy buckle as nimble fingers skillfully unfasten it and pull it from the loops of expensive trousers is almost menacing, carrying with it portentous threats it fully intends to see through.

He never warns you when the first strike is coming, reveling in the way your muscles are coiled in tension, in foreboding anticipation; basking in the surprised yelp that bubbles up in your throat.

“Relax,” he tells you with a callous chuckle, leather squealing between large, smooth hands as he folds it. “And count,”

It’s his usual response, predictable and scripted by this point, but he never seems to tire of it, notes of delight lacing his voice.

And that first blow never counts.

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy by most standards, but his punishments are harsh, brutal, and cruel, and they happen to be one of the only things he takes seriously in life.

There’s rules to each of his punishments—so many rules he’s made you write them out multiple times, until your hand ached and fingers cramped and the heel of your palm was swollen, so they’d stick in that pretty empty little head of yours, so you never forget—and his spankings are no different.

You are not to move until he tells you to. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are to count each lash, loud and clear before the next strike lands. Each mistake, each misstep and slip-up and refusal to comply, will earn you one extra slap. The tool is to be decided based on the severity of the offence.  

The belt, all rigid rawhide and sharp edges, cuts into the supple flesh of your ass with each easy, nonchalant flick of his wrist, abrasively snapping against you.

Each collision of leather against flesh sears a tingly sting into your skin, biting rapidly rising welts into your ass and sending spiky jolts of agonizing pain bolting up your spine, the pain fading to a dull throb for just a moment before another blow is delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Satoru murmurs to himself halfway through your punishment, the word nothing more than a little huff of breath. You don’t dare respond, simply crying out the next number as he lands another harsh blow to your abused skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound, he continues, voice appearing faint and far away, mingling with the combined symphony of the crack of leather and pathetic whimpers muffled by sheets.

“It’s incredible,” he says, louder this time, voice dripping with wonderment, as if he can’t believe he’s created such a magnificent piece—the streaks of blood staining once perfect, unblemished skin; the high-pitched whines and sharp cries of each subsequent number; the resounding slap of the belt against your bare ass that evokes it all.

The whole thing sends a surge of intense power rushing through his veins, the tingling buzz it leaves behind enthralling and invigorating. You don’t need to look at him to know this, don’t need to see the way his eyes shine with it, the way his chest heaves with it, the way his entire body trembles with it—you can feel it in the atmosphere surrounding you, can feel the shift as his ego saturates the air, as his pure superiority bleeds into it, dense and suffocating, stimulating and revitalizing.

It infects your body, seeping in through your skin and flooding your veins, re-instills the need to be submissive, the ache to be good, providing you with the strength to endure.

The punishment lasts for forty-five excruciating minutes, accumulating a total of thirty three spanks—the extra three tacked onto your original punishment of thirty, one for each time you broke a rule. He’s on you in less than a second the moment it’s over, belt dropping to the rug-covered floor with a distinct thump as soft, eager palms roam your sweaty body, lips crushed against yours, still trembling as they spill pitiful whimpers into his mouth.

The luxurious bedroom—all cream and gold and drenched in sunlight—is blanketed by backhanded praises, warning you not to be a brat and just take what he gives. He’s sadistic when he gets in moods such as these, a feral glint in crystal eyes as large hands hastily flip you over—so fast it knocks a gasp of his name from your chest—seemingly unconcerned about the fresh blood oozing from the thin swollen welts that embellish your ass staining his thousand dollar sheets.

“Daddy needs you now,” he growls when you try to protest, breathing erratic as fingers flex on your hips, squeezing and kneading before pressing down hard, a silent order to stay fucking put. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for your Daddy now, aren’t you?”

Of course. Of course, because you are a good little girl, his good little girl.

But he’s a bad Daddy.

And, like a bad Daddy, he defers aftercare—it can wait, he practically snarls as he drags you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up on either side of your body, knees nearly nudging your jaw; and foregoes prep almost entirely—two slender fingers slipping between your slick folds, prodding your hole and deeming you wet enough to take him.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, when that façade of indifference finally shatters to pieces, replaced with desperation, with urgency, with neediness.

Your head lifts from the plush mattress, neck straining a little as you watch him push his trousers down his thighs through bleary eyes, residual dewdrops of tears clinging to spidery lashes. His cock bobs a little as he kicks the pants off, and it’s just as pretty as he is, smooth and symmetrical and perfect in every way.

“This would be part of your punishment,” he pants out, speaking over your cry of discomfort as he begins to shove his cock into you, little cunt aching as it attempts to accommodate the sudden intrusion. “If you didn’t love it so much, fucking slut,”

“Daddy!” The pet name claws its way up your throat in a yelp, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh through his Armani button-up in an effort to steady yourself, eyes squeezing shut against the severe burn that accompanies the stretch. “Gonna—Gonna tear me in half,”

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Satoru muses, voice already returning to its apathetic playful lilt now that he’s half buried in your cunt, breathing already calmed. A malicious little smirk decorates his lips and he observes you as if awestruck, one of his hands moving to trace the curve of your cheek, cold fingertips soft against your scalding skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispers as he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against the back of your thighs.

And you are, fresh tears that glitter the way his eyes do in the waning sun streaming down your cheeks, leaving the prettiest streaks of salt staining your flesh; lips swollen from merciless teeth sinking into them, an attempt to silence yourself, to keep those whines and complaints of Stop, Daddy! and Hurts, Daddy! safely stored in your throat.

Your little hole flutters around him, still struggling to adjust to his girth, and his head droops forward, long tongue unfurling from his mouth to lap at the bitter water adorning your face, slow languid strokes from your jaw to your bottom lashes, replacing shimmering tears with viscous saliva.

Saccharine sugar stings your nose, sticky toffee bathed in decadent chocolate and garnished with a touch of vanilla enveloping you in a sickly sweet embrace.

Such a scent—his scent—starkly opposes the vicious snapping of his hips, setting a merciless pace from the very start, blunt nails biting deep half-crescents into your flesh as they hold you in place.

But the pain only heightens the pleasure, contradicting sensations clashing together with every one of his brutal thrusts, cashmere feeling as rough as sandpaper against your raw, wounded ass. Thorns of pain pierce through your abdomen and shoot up your spine, back arching off the bed, and the muscles in your thighs flex and clench with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

It’s potent and intoxicating, a heady exhilaration clouding your brain and flooding your veins, and soon there are tears leaking from your eyes again, dribbling into your mouth and mixing with strings of drool that coat the words you’re babbling out.

Blood rushes in your ears, procuring a deafening ring, and you’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, voice vibrating indistinctly in your chest as saliva soaked mewls ooze from your mouth. Your Daddy’s staring down at you, condescension etched into his pretty features, eyes morphing from dainty crystal to the navy of a tumultuous sea, framed by strands of cream and ivory dripping with sweat.

And he’s so big, too big, stuffing you full to the hilt with each ruthless piston of his hips, mattress trembling beneath you from the sheer strength; and it’s so much, too much, you swear you can feel him in your tummy, can see the way your lower abdomen cutely bulges in synchronization with every pounding thrust.

You must say it in some way, in some shape or some form, because the patronization varnishing his features melts away, sharp smirk dissolving into a genuine grin, blue eyes lightening with pure adoration.

“Such a good girl,” you think he’s saying, through it’s hard to tell when your eyelids keep drooping, hard to hear when a symphony of broken moans and hitched whimpers and the sharp slapping of skin against skin blanket the room, reverberating off the walls of your skull. “You’re such a good, good girl for me,”

Yes, Daddy, you want to say, such a good girl for you, only for you.

“Y-Yours,” you manage instead, locking your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growls, possessiveness lacquering his eyes, brilliant and bright and shining with devotion. “That’s right, mine,”

It only takes another three thrusts before you’re gushing all over his cock, the intense spasming of your cute little cunt drawing the prettiest whines from the back of his throat as he rams into you.

“Beg for it,” he demands, and although it’s an order, it comes out more like a plead, desperation sown into his voice. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,”

You obey immediately, words spilling from your lips without a second thought, automatic and instinctual. Please, Daddy, gimme your cum? Please, please, pretty please, want your cum, Daddy, fill my belly with it, Daddy, I need it, need it so bad, please?

He gives you what you want only a moment later, cock throbbing almost violently as he fills you with thick, scalding cream—so much that you’re sure it’s dribbling out of you, trickling down your ass and onto his pristine sheets—and you roll your hips up, attempting to milk him for more.

“G-Greedy,” he pants out, but there’s a dazzling smile slapped across his face, and so much love in his eyes it’s nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears casting a gleaming shield across your own.

He notices immediately, both of you wincing a little as he pulls out, a wrecked little whine escaping your mouth.

“My poor little princess,” he’s saying as he untangles his briefs—Balenciaga, this time—from his trousers, abandoned in a heap on the hardwood.

“Daddy,” you rasp, a frown marring his face, fingers encircling your ankles as he helps you unfold your stiff legs.

“I know, I know,” he’s murmuring as gentle hands pull the soft clothing up your silky thighs. “It hurts, I know baby, Daddy’s gonna make it feel better now,”

A shiver courses through your body, and he tuts, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before he hoists you up and drapes it over your shoulders, tenderly threading your arms through the sleeves.

It’s cozy, and warm, infused with his scent—melted sugar and expensive cologne—and you snuggle into it, weak arms pulling the material tighter around your body, swathing it in comfort. Tears prick your eyes again, blearily blinking them clear as you glance up to find him backing away. A noise of indignance sounds in the back of your throat, eyebrows knitting together as you make grabby hands for him.

“I’ll be right back, princess,” he reassures you as he laces your fingers together and allows you to pull him back towards you, voice soothing like a lullaby. Fingers trail along the curve of your cheek then trace the line of your jaw, palms smoothing hair back from your face. “Daddy’s just going to go get the first aid kit so he can clean you up, okay?”

“‘N then food?”

He coos with a little chuckle, cupping your head as he tilts it up towards him, eyes overflowing with fondness.

“Yeah, baby, and then food. Whatever you want, it’s yours,”

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy, but he is also your Daddy, and that makes him the best Daddy.

[kass-storycorner]

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Hu Tao and Chongyun storyquests the past days. Both deal with the afterlife (well the border between life and death so far) and ghosts. We know both are canon in Genshin, they exist for this world. Now what I’ve been thinking a lot about is … how much angst can I write with that in mind? I always see a lot of these how the characters would react to your death but… yeah, have fun with this. Or not.

The ghost of you

Prompt: You died and the characters are faced with the literal ghost of you.

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort (especially for Xiao)

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao,

Format: text

Word count: 1714

This is not proof-read or anything, I just wanted to get that idea out of my head. I also really want to write this idea out for other characters, so maybe I'll share a part 2 in the future. and yes the title might be a mcr reference and i might have two other fics in my drafts named after mcr songsi had a rough week okay

Zhongli:

He loved you. With all his heart, with every fibre of his being, he loved you so much. Zhongli always knew that his decision to live a life among mortals would cost a price, but in his mind, it was paid with his Gnosis all those years ago. It was not until the first of his mortal friends started to die that Zhongli was reminded of how fragile humans were. Of course, he was aware to a certain degree that he would outlive his friends and even you, he just never considered how quickly a human life was lived. You both had spent an entire life together, and while Zhonglis body did not biologically age, he is able to change his form to his liking - so when you grew old and grey so did he. Most people in Liyue would see the two of take your stroll around the city, holding hands and they were enamoured by the way you still looked at each other, just like a newlywed couple. But you grew older each day until one day, on one of your walks through the city, your collapsed. Zhongli was quick to catch you and the people around rushed towards the two, helping Zhongli getting you to a doctor. However, what was a doctor to do, than to tell Zhongli that your body is giving up? The doctor nor Zhongli can do anything against the flow of time, though Zhongli wished he could. He was not ready to let you go, he was not ready for you to onyl life in his memories until the erosion of the earth will erease you from them.

You layed in the hospital bed, Zhongli right next to you never letting go of your hand, when you took your last breath. He sat next to you for a while, not saying a word, tears running down his face until he heard your voice.

"It's okay," there you stood on the other side of the bed, your dead body between the two of you. In all the years Zhongli lived he had seen more than a few ghosts and he was aware of the human afterlife - though seeing your ghost wasn't something he anticipated. "You're dead", Zhongli said quietly, tears still spilling from his eyes. "I know, love. I know. And I wish I could've stayed with you just a bit longer, I really do. But it's time. You gave me such a wonderful life; we spend so many years together and I am so thankful for it Zhongli. For all the stories you told me, for all the sleepless nights we spend together, for all the memories we made. I loved it. I love you." Zhongli still hadn't let go of your hand, still afraid of letting you go, even though the mind he loved was standing so close to him. "Love," he started, his voice heavy with grief. "I have so many more stories to tell you. Will you stay, just for a while longer?"

At that you had to laugh a bit and oh, how much he already missed your laugh. He just heard it a few hours ago, when you were still alive, but hearing it now just felt so painful. "Zhongli, even 10 lifetimes wouldn't be enough to be able to listen to all of your stories. But I'm so sorry to disappoint you, you know I can't stay."

He knew this just too well. Not only as someone who worked for decades as a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in Liyue, but also as the former Geo-Archon he knew it was better for you to go. It pained him that he could never follow you into the afterlife that was awaiting you, even Zhongli didn't know what awaits you behind the border between life and death. "Then," Zhongli began, standing up and letting go of your cold hand, "let me accompany you."

Xiao:

Continuation for the Xiao one

Xiao refused to go even near the place you died for decades. The day he lost you was still so fresh in his memories, it pained him even more than his karmic debt to think about it. He always told you, when you were still by his side, that when you were in trouble, in danger, to always call his name. You did. You always did and he would be by your side, protecting you from what would’ve harmed you. The only time you refused to call his name in time was the day you died, and all Xiao could do was blame himself. You were visiting at the Inn earlier that day, standing next to him on the balcony talking about something he doesn’t even remember. What he remembers how happy you were, how enthusiastic you talked about it, whatever it was. Somehow though the conversation shifted, and you both ended up fighting – the reason for it was so stupid and it was all his fault. He was just in a bad mood that day and not even your warm presence were able to change it, so he let it out on you. Trying to push you away, again. Xiao cursed himself for how often he did that, how often he would hide how much he loved you, how much he cared for you, behind a mean exterior that only caused you pain. You knew what he was doing and that day, you just had enough. “Stop trying to push me away, Xiao!”, you shouted at him, tears already filling your eyes. You tried to reach for him, but he pulled away. Keeping you at a distance, again. “And you just stop talking, it’s exhausting to hear your voice.” Xiao already hated himself immediately after he said it, but looking back now, knowing what his words caused… it drove him close to madness. “Fine,” you replied, and he could her how much his words hurt you, “then you’ll never hear it again.” With that you left him. He tried to distract himself from the guilt he felt after your fight with his work, slashing through the enemies, spoiling the earth of Liyue with more blood. For nearly a month he didn’t hear you call him, and he was too scared to seek you out. Scared that you wouldn’t want to see him, scared that he ruined it all. When you finally called for him, when he finally heard you say his name – he hoped it was a chance for him to make it up to you. Xiao was not prepared to find your lifeless body, realising that you called his name with your very last breath. It send him into a blind rage, killing the enemies around him that were the cause for your death. When there was nothing left to kill he collapsed next to your corpse, tears spilling from his eyes, chanting your name over and over like a prayer. Asking himself why you hadn’t called him sooner to only remember what he said weeks prior. It was his fault. He couldn’t help it but to blame himself for your death. If he hadn’t said those words, if he hadn’t continuously tried to push you away… you were right. Xiao will never hear your voice again.

He avoided to go even near the place you died. If he hadn’t done that, if he had visited at least once, he would’ve seen your ghost, wandering aimlessly around. At first you were just confused, what had just happened? The last thing you remembered is that you called for Xiao and now? Now you stood in the middle of a forest, no Xiao in sight but also the enemies who cornered you just now were also gone. For how long you wandered around, confused and not sure what had happened you didn’t know. It scared you. You screamed his name, over and over again but you couldn’t hear your own voice. You just couldn’t make a sound.

He didn’t mean to come across that place again. Xiao learned to live with the guilt and grief he felt, just as he had to learn to live with his karmic debt. Still, it hurts more than he likes to admit. So when he stumbled upon the place he lost you all those years ago, he asked himself how he ended up here again. Something was telling him he should come here, but he tried to ignore that voice, that calling. But when he saw your ghostly figure between the trees of the forest, it used to be a plain field when you had died, he froze. Was it really you? “(Y/N)?”, he called out to you. Oh, how long he hadn’t said your name. It felt foreign, but also so familiar at the same time. But you didn’t hear nor see him, you were too lost after years of roaming the fields that grew to a forest – not being able to understand that time passed, that you were dead. Xiao came closer to your ghost and saw how you screamed something, over and over. His name. It was his name. “(Y/N) it’s me, I’m here. Please, I’m here, it’s okay”, his voice was strained and when your face met his – Xiao noticed how you didn’t look at him. You looked right through him, he noticed now how he couldn’t reach you with his words nor his presences. He tried to grab you, but his hand only touched the air. If he could at least hear you call his name. Xiao felt how his tears ran down his face, his heart shattering again in thousand pieces. Why hadn’t he noticed it earlier how you roamed the earth, lost and scared. He saw it in your face. Why didn’t he come here earlier? It pained him to know that you hadn’t found your peace. Xiao went down on his knees, face buried in his hands. The last time he felt so helpless was when he found your dead body, unable to help you. And now? Now it happened again, he had no idea what he could do to help you, to make you see him. From that day on Xiao spend most of his time watching over your ghost, hoping that one day he’ll hear you call out to him again.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Full

Anonymous Said: pls cnc with daddy H plsssss 

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: Okay...so as I was writing this, I realized just how much I loved this concept. Like it’s so soft, but also rlly spicy(and I added a shit ton of spice on top of that...you’re welcome). There’s some soft cnc in here too. So I hope y’all like it...this is kinda breaking me out of the whole not being motivated to write even tho I have ideas in my head that I’m dying to expand on and do a fic about them thing I’ve been on since my last fic. And since this is my first fully written fic in a good lil while, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and I hope you guys love ittt...enjoy🙃

3.7k wordsss

You were having a little bit of a rough night. For the most part, everything was going fine ever since you went to bed a couple hours earlier. You were in your favorite and incredibly comfy sleep shirt, you were all cuddled up and cozy in Harry’s arms, and there was a cute little plug nestled inside your second entrance. Well, you had a cute little plug nestled inside of you. 

After your initial cuddles with Harry that ultimately sent you both right to sleep, you started to move around a bit in your sleep. While Harry thought it was absolutely adorable, you always went to bed with a mission of trying not move around too much. But no matter how much you thought you could keep still, you really couldn’t. You just loved your sleep and couldn’t help but to roll around. Especially if it meant that you were getting a good nights rest. Now most nights while you were doing your nightly rolls(or competing in the sleep olympics as Harry liked to call it) you rolled around your side of the bed(and into Harry)without your plug falling out. You were able to keep it safe and sound inside of you for the whole night usually and not have to worry about losing it inn the sheets. That was most nights, but not tonight. As you were peacefully sleeping next to, or directly on Harry at some points, the bunny plug you chose for the night managed to slip out of you and into the sheets. Now you didn’t wake up immediately after it slipped out of you, but you did wake up not too long after. And when you did wake up, you felt different. Not only were you incredibly close to falling asleep again, you also felt empty. You’d grown so used to having your second hole filled every night and pretty much all the time for that matter, that you were desperate to find your plug and push it back inside. 

See, Harry was beyond obsessed with pushing these princess plugs as he liked to call them into you. Their main purpose is to train your second entrance so that you could be adjusted enough to eventually take more inside and be more comfortable in the process. The whole idea of training and stretching you to fit his cock inside was absolutely amazing to him and quite the turn on as well. And even after pushing into your “glorious” second entrance, Harry still wanted to use the plugs on you. He wanted you to always be stretched and ready for his cock. With that being said Harry was always on top of you having one inside at all times. When you went to bed at night, he’d let you choose which plug you liked the most for that night and he’d pull you over his lap so that he play with you a bit and ease the pretty accessory into you. And he’d do the exact same thing in the morning when you were just out of the shower(or bath; he liked to spoil you in the morning if he went rough on you the night before). And when he wasn’t at home to fill you himself, he’d instruct you to call him via FaceTime right after your shower. No matter the time, or what he was doing in that moment, he’d always step away to answer your call. And he always did just that. Once you were in contact with him, you have your ritual morning/first conversation of the day, and then he goes about instructing you on how to fill your second entrance.

The first step in the process would be choosing your plug…which could be pretty hard sometimes. Throughout you guys’ time working on your much tighter hole, a large collection of pretty plugs was acquired. There was a range of sizes that showed your progress(which Harry was incredibly proud of by the way), and each size had an array of different colors, materials, and shapes. You were hands down obsessed with all of them and you hated when it was time to choose a new one. There were even a couple glass plugs that were designated for when Harry really wanted to play with you, or for when he wanted you to look extra pretty. And along with those and the other plugs, there were two vibrating plugs that were slightly larger than the rest, and they had either a jewel of a fluffy bunny tail on top. Both were designated for when Harry wanted to make a mess of you or for when you were being punished. They were also kept in Harry’s box of toys, the box you weren’t allowed to go in. But back to your wide array of options and choosing just one of them. As you looked through the toys, Harry would give you some suggestions and help you choose the best one for the day.

And once you’ve chosen your princess plug for the day, you head back over to the bed. Harry then instructs you to prop your phone up against the pillows at the head of the bed so that he could get the perfect view of what you were doing. He’d then tell you to get the lube he always uses on you from the drawer of his side table, and bend over in front of him; well, him through the phone. From that point on, he guides you through the final steps of filling your second hole and he gets to watch it all. And hear your whines too. He thought you sounded so cute as you spread the lube around the area, and when you start to nudge the plug past the tight ring of muscles, or when you felt the lube sliding down to your already glistening pussy. Once your nice and filled, Harry would sing your praises. All the way through you guys’ explosive round of phone sex, and  he wouldn’t stop until the phone is hung up.

So yeah, with all that being said, you were definitely not used to being empty like you were now. Especially since Harry always made sure to keep you filled at all times. Even when he was away! After feeling around for your princess plug and turning up with nothing, you started to get quite frustrated. And on top of that you were starting so slip into your subspace. All you wanted at this point was for Harry to find your plug, fill you back up, cuddle with you, and go back to sleep together. That’s it. You hated to wake him up but you were slipping further into your subspace and you were feeling needy. So even enough you didn’t want to, you try and wake Harry up. You begin to softly whisper in his ear and nudge at his shoulder to wake him. And after about a minute or so you were able to successfully wake Harry up a little bit.

“What’s the matter darling.” He asks concernedly, his words slurred and his voice heavily overcome with sleep, so deep it sent a little shock to your core. 

“Can’t find my princess plug daddy!” You softly whine to him, your voice laced with your need for Harry to make you feel better. 

“It’s alright baby, daddy gonna find it for you.” He softly replies, waking up more and more as he talked to you.

“Please daddy, feel so empty.” You mumble in response. 

“Daddy’s gonna get you all filled up again, don’t you worry sweetheart.” He reassures, lifting his head from the pillows to lean over and press a small kiss to your nose before completely lifting himself up. He then pulls the covers off of his body and stands up from the bed. “M’gonna turn the light on now.” He warns, giving you a chance to prepare yourself before turning lamp on his bedside table on to start his search for your plug. 

He pulls the covers back from the top of the bed to expose you and the expanse of the bed before proceeding to shake the covers in hopes of shaking the plug out of them. But there was no plug to be found, leaving the floor as the last option for the location of the missing plug. He starts by checking the floor on his side of the bed where he was standing to see if he narrowly missed stepping on it when he got up. Upon confirming that it was not was not on the floor in his area, Harry begins to walk around the bed, coming to a halt when he reaches your side. 

“There you are.” He mumbles to himself, his eyes stopping on the pretty blue bunny plug that was lying on the floor next to the bed. Following the direction of his eyes, you peer over the edge, your eyes stopping in the same place as his. Harry then leans down to pick the accessory up.  “Gonna have to pick another one sweets. Gotta clean it in the morning.” He groans after leaning over,  giving you a little pout once he’s fully standing. 

“Still wanna be a bunny.” You reply simply, stating your preference as to what plug you’d like to have. 

“Okay” He chuckles at your cute and very simple answer. “And what color sweets?” He asks, beginning to back up in the direction of the closet.

“Hmm, pink please.” You decide. “Thank you daddy.” You continue, sending him a soft smile in the process. 

“Anything for my girl.” He replies, mirroring your smile and sending you a little wink before disappearing into the closet. He makes a b-line to the drawer with all of your plugs and plucks the pretty pink bunny plug that was exactly the same, all the way down to the size, as the last one. He then places the blue plug on one of the nearby shelves as a reminder to clean it and put it back in the drawer before turning out the light and heading back to you, keeping his hands with the plug behind his back. When he enters back into the room, he walks over to the bed, revealing the new plug to you once he reaches the end of the bed. Harry then, very simply and very nonchalantly, wags his finger around to signal you to turn around and get in position. And you immediately do just that. You turn yourself around at the top of the bed and you pull your sleep shirt up a bit to make sure it’s not blocking anything. When Harry sees this, he couldn’t stop his cock from twitching in his boxers. You were so eager to have your little hole filled again that you were going to do any and everything he said. 

Wasting no more time just standing there, Harry quickly walks over to his bedside table to grab the lube before crawling onto the bed behind you. Since you were on your hands and knees, Harry could see everything, causing his cock to harden even more in his pants. Whenever he fills your much tighter hole, Harry always makes sure that you’re comfortable in the process. So before doing anything, Harry reaches up and grabs a pillow from the top of the bed so you can have your hips lifted and not have to be on all fours or have your back arched. He tucks it underneath your hips, and then proceeds to instruct you to just lay down and relax against the bed.  Harry then pushes your thighs apart spreading you a bit wider before crawling on top of your plushy thighs. 

“Now pull em apart f’me baby.” He instructs, lightly tapping at your backside. And within seconds, Harry is watching you grip onto the flesh of your ass before pulling it apart to fully reveal yourself to him. “Look at that little hole. Absolutely amazing how it takes all of me inside.” He admires. When he sees your little hole contract below him, Harry couldn’t help but chuckle a little behind you. “I take it someone is excited.” He states playfully, bringing a finger down to poke at the tightened opening, causing you to clench up even more around his finger. He then grabs the bottle of lube from beside him and pops it open before squeezing a good amount of it down onto your hole. To ensure that you’re nice and ready for him so start pushing it back in, Harry brings two fingers down to spread the lube around, concentrating on your entrance. He then closes the bottle and drops it onto the bed, replacing it with the plug itself. Harry slots the head of it between his fingers and brings it down to your entrance. “Now be a good girl and relax f’me baby.” He whispers from behind, nudging the tip against your entrance. “Daddy’s got you.” He reassures, beginning to push the plug further. As he does this, he can hear faint whimpers and moans leaving your mouth, prompting him to whisper sweet reassurances to you and making his now incredibly hard cocks presence known.

Once the plug is fully inside, Harry gives your ass a little tap, signaling to you that you could let go. When you do, Harry just sits there and admires your backside. He couldn’t help but to fall in love with how cute the tail looked on you. To him, you looked like a proper little bunny. A proper, and utterly fuckable, little bunny. To him in this moment, you were his little fuck bunny. And he could really go for a good fuck. Especially considering how hard he was right now. There was no way he was going to bed with a rock hard cock. Especially when you’re so readily available to him.

 “Now what do you say after daddy has plugged you up so nicely?” Harry coos, lifting himself from you momentarily to shove his boxers off. 

“Thank you daddy.” You happily sigh, content with the feeling of your ass being filled again. You then begin to turn back onto your side but Harry is quick to push you back down onto your front, spread your legs back, and get back on top of you to keep you down. “What are you doing daddy?” You ask, completely confused as to what was going on. 

“Well daddy just wanted to give himself a treat for waking up in the middle of the night.” He says, bringing a hand down between your legs to your cunt.

“Just wanna sleep daddy.” You whine, trying to move around below him.

“Well you can baby, once m’done with you.” He simply replies, pushing his fingers between your sticky folds and against your weepy little hole. 

“No daddy!” You whine into the pillow below, trying to protest his actions and not let out a loud moan instead. 

“Stop being a little brat and just take my cock Y/n.” Harry groans, using his other hand to tug at his cock. Harry then moves himself closer to your center and lays himself on top of you, his mouth landing right at your ear, keeping one of his hands wrapped around his cock. He lifts his hips up from yours and blindly maneuvers his cock so that it’s hovering over your entrance. “And if you really meant that, you know what to do.” Harry reminds, referring to the safe word the two of you’d set when it came to your activities in the bedroom whether they were planned or not. Whatever it may have been, if either of you used it, everything stopped. The both of you, especially Harry though, took it seriously and wanted to make sure that it was there and known. 

As he reminds you of the safe word though, Harry begins to push his cock right into you. Sending you into a complete frenzy. Your protests came to a halt and your moans began. You were loudly moaning at the feeling of his cock sliding into you and completely filling you up. It felt so goo and you were so happy Harry kept going because you felt absolutely amazing. Once he’s fully inside, Harry takes a moment to get his bearings. You were a complete mess below him and he was beyond overwhelmed with how good you felt around him. Harry wanted to just have a good lazy fuck that would put you two right to bed. But with your pussy feeling like this around his cock, Harry was literally incapable of going slow. There was just something about your wetness and juices that unlocked his carnal desire to just fuck you. And on top of that, whenever you were subby, your sensitivity tended to be heightened. Which meant that you’d be a moaning mess the entire time and it would only take two seconds for you to explode around him. Also, Harry just loved pounding you and taking complete control over you when you were in your subby space. He was already in control, but this was so much more. So instead of pausing any longer, Harry dives right in and begins delivering the quickest, deepest, and hardest thrusts he possibly could.

“Daddy!” You shout, feeling him slam into the deepest part of you over and over again. You could feel the carnal desire he had in his thrusts. You could also hear it in the way he growled into your ear. While you loved being coddled while in your subspace, you also loved being controlled. Harry was just slamming his cock into you over and over agin, trying to relieve the pressure in his cock. Sure he wanted you to feel good, but he was more concerned with pleasuring himself and using your body to do just that. And in the process of doing that, he was making you feel like you were soaring.

As he continues with his beyond intense thrusts, Harry felt like he was on cloud nine. The way you were clenching up around him and just taking it all was extraordinary to him. You were being such a good girl and doing so well for him, taking his pounding and loving every second of it. He even made sure to tell you how good of a girl you were being, and even promised to fill your tummy with all of his cum if you kept being a good girl. And that you did. You continued to let him take you hard from behind and make you scream into the pillows. As the rhythm he had going with his hips continues, Harry alternates between lying right on your back and pinning your hips down and just mounting you so to speak. Sometimes he just wanted to see your little tail and watch his cock disappear into the magical cave as he liked to describe it, that was your cunt. Seeing that on top of hearing your cries out to daddy about how deep he was inside, how big he was, how rough he wad going on you, and how good it felt made it all ten times better and pushed Harry closer to his release.

“Such a good little fuck bunny f’me” Harry grunts into your ear, back to lying on top of you. “What are you doll?” He growls, staggering his thrusts to make them harder. 

“A fuck bunny!” You shout, struggling to form those three words.  

“And who do you belong to?” He growls, slamming his hips down into you again, demanding a prompt response from you.

“You daddy!” You reply through another whimper. As you replied to him, the part of your legs that weren’t pinned down flailed back and forth as you took each power and pleasure packed thrust. 

“Good girl. Now put it all together; I am…” He begins, leaving the rest for you to finish. 

“Daddy’s fuck bunny!” You reply wearily, struggling to get the words out.

“Good girl!” He praises (with a tinge of condescension in his voice), going back to his rough and very deep, continuous thrusts. “M’so glad you’re a good fuck bunny don’t mind daddy tearing you up inside.” He grunts, feeling a familiar rumbling in the pit of his stomach as he continues on. “Wanna cum sweets?” Harry pants a few moments later, continuing to push his cock in and out of you, his thrusts turning into humps more and more as his release gets near. 

“Please daddy!” You softly cry, feeling a throbbing sensation mounting in your clit.

“Want you t’hump the pillow baby. Dig that greedy little clit of yours down into the pillow for daddy.” He instructs, almost guiding your movements against the pillow. He could hear your whines turn into desperate whimpers. He could feel your walls begin to contract around his cock. And he could feel his own release beginning to take over him. After a couple digs into the pillow, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You let go right then and there, prompting Harry to follow your lead. As you were riding the seismic waves of your release, Harry was releasing everything he had to give. The both of you riding the waves of your releases. 

When Harry can feel most of his body again, he lifts himself from your back and leans over to turn the light out. He then pulls you both onto your sides with him right behind you, and pulls the comforter that was abandoned earlier up onto you both. 

“Nice and full sweetheart?” He asks, circling his hand around your lower stomach before removing it from around you and bringing it back between the two of you. “This nice and snug? Don’t want it to come out again.” He asks, pushing the plug into you a bit more.

“Perfect daddy.” You sigh, still in a daze from everything Harry did to you.

“You just love being filled up, don’t you baby.” Harry hums, chuckling at how happy you were now that you’re completely filled up. 

“Mhm!” You happily hum, beginning to doze off.

“Well m’gonna keep you nice and full, and make sure you sleep real good baby.” He says before pressing a kiss to your cheek, Keeping himself tightly wrapped around you. Keeping his cum, his cock, and your pretty little princess plug safe and sound inside you. 

Masterlist

[greenhikingboots]

I’m new to the Jonsa ship and would love to make some fellow shipper internet friends. Here’s the story of how I came to the ship, so you want to decide if I’m worthy of friendship or not. 😎 I binge watched seasons 1-7 the summer before season 8 came out, then watched season 8 as the episodes were released. Two things happened early on in my binge watching worth mentioning. One, I started to really like Sansa and felt more invested in her storyline than the others. Two, I searched GoT fanart and happened upon a drawing of Jon in some sort of romantic pose with a girl with long red hair.  I thought, “Woah, plot twist! Jon and Sansa are going to be like Cersei and Jaime? Seems wrong.  But we’re meant to root for the Starks, right? Maybe there’s a way to make it work and not be totally cringe?” 👀 From there, I did a little googling to see if it was true, and I spoiled a bit for myself when I found out about Yigritte. So I thought, “Oh, that art must have been Jon and this character I haven’t met yet.” Looking back on it, the art might have actually been Jonsa. I don’t remember it well enough now to say for sure. But at the time, I decided it must have been Jon and Yigritte and didn’t think anything more about Jonsa for  a while. But I suppose a seed was planted. When I got to season 6, I noticed the Jonsa signs. If I remember correctly, the show doesn’t confirm L+R=J until a little later, but by that point I knew about it. So I was increasingly intrigued, but still wasn’t convinced it would happen. Keep in mind, I was watching a few years after the season came out, and I figured if anything as dramatic as Jon and Sansa getting together had happened, I’d have head about it through the grapevine the same way I heard before watching the show that Jon came back to life and Daenerys had dragons and was sometimes called khaleesi. Like, “It is known.” Right? 🤦‍♀️ Anyway, I chalked the Jonsa signs up to the chemistry between the actors. And I was even like, “How did they fail to realize this would come across as romance-y!? If they didn’t want that, they should have handled this scene a little differently.” Ha! Yes, that is something I actually said to myself. Jokes on me, I guess! And the pattern remained, to a lesser extent, in season 7 and 8. And then the show ended and it was rough, and I wanted nothing to do with the fandom for a while. How, then, did I finally make my way to this ship? By way of another ship! 🎉 Fast forward about two years after GoT ended, which would be about seven months before today. I started getting more involved in the Dramione fandom, where I’d been lurking for years — writing my own fics, engaging with other fandom folks online, etc. One day on Dramione Reddit, the question “What brought you to this ship?” came up. Someone said they’d been reading Jonsa first and one of their favorite writers also writes for Dramione, so they gave it a try. I saw that comment and for a split second I thought, “Jonsa? Jorah and Sansa? That’s an unexpected ship.” And then the memories of the fanart and the season 6 signs came rushing back to me. I thought, “Oh! Jon and Sansa! Yes, yes, yes! I must go read that! Right this second!” 🏃‍♀️ So I did. I still haven’t read much, to be honest, but there are a handful of one-shots that I think about constantly now. I can’t get these two out of my head! I started reading up on Jonsa theories, ordered the books and am about halfway through ACOK, and even put my other ship fic on hold and started writing my own Jonsa fic. (Dramione who?) Really, it’s a wonder I didn’t stumble into Jonsa sooner, given how much I like Sansa and how much I LOVE angsty, high-stakes romance and exploring canon clues. I can tell I’m starting to fall deep, deep down the rabbit hole. I’m only about 18k words in to my own fic, but writing and researching for this ship has given me a new level of appreciation for Jon as an individual character, for GRRM’s craft, and for the beautiful potential of this pairing. 💖 I’m so excited to keep falling, and I plan to make more posts soon with all the ideas I’m accumulating. Can we join our rabbit holes? Can we Jonsa brain rot together? If you like that idea, follow me and I’ll follow you back if I don’t already. XO.

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[domthedevil]

since your requests are open, could you do headcanons about soft femdom mc riding the brothers and overstimulating them while giving them sweet praises like "you're doing well", if you only take fic requests could you do it with lucifer or levi?

I’m sorry this took so long but I enjoyed writing this so much. Stay thirsty.

The Brothers x Femdom!MC

Warnings: gentle female domination, submissive brothers.

Belphie

Usually the one who prefers to be in control, it’s going to take some brat taming to get Belphie to submit even a little.

But you love his bratty side. It makes the moment you break him all that much sweeter. It’s always when you’re on top of him, holding his arms above his head. His ragged moans hit against your lips.

“That’s better. Let me take care of you, brat. I’ll show you how to behave.” And as his voice gets weaker, as the edge gets even closer, you showed him in praise.

“That’s right. Good boy. Good boy, Belphie. You’re doing so well.” You talk him through his deep orgasm, letting him fill you entirely as a reward.

Beel

Desperately wants to be praised and to please you. Beel puts his heart into worshipping you each time you grace him with your touch.

Make him beg a little. The desperate way he’ll say anything, do anything for you made you want to spoil him as well. Definition of Good Boy

Reward him by restraining him letting him relax as you take the lead, straddling his waist. Show him how much he stretches you out. Praise him for how big he is. But how gentle his is too.

“You know just how to please me. Beel you’re the best. Let me satisfy that hunger of yours”. He always asks permission to cum, always eager to please. Always eager to empty himself inside you.

Asmo

You only had to hint at wanting to dominate him and Asmo was already pulling out his silk ropes and harnesses.

Also eager to please. Asmo knows how much love you put into dominating him. How when you choke him, or when you deny his orgasm, or when you do let him orgasm unexpectedly; he felt all the care in your touch.

Switches between being bratty and obedient. Loves when you spoil him but sometimes he needs you to tug his hair and spank him more.

“MC~ Call me your Sweet Boy again~ ♡” “Earn it baby. Give me a reason to call you sweet.”

Satan

Difficult to tame but worth the effort. His sweet cries and mewls of pleasure show how much he loves being under your control. But you will need to be rough at first. He needs to know his place.

“You’re here to please me, got it? You’re only good for fucking and saying my name....” “Y-yes mistress. I’m yours to use.”

Satan’s never been one to show such a shameful, perverse side of himself, but you bring it out of him. Let him know it’s what you want. What you love about breaking him down and riding him senseless.

“Good Boy, Satan. You’re fucking me so good. You have such a good cock.” “Th-thank you ma’am.”

Levi

...the easiest to tame of all the brothers. You, in control? On top? Praising him? Just tell him what position you want him to be in.

“M-MC! G-g-g-gggggood. So good!” “That’s it Levi, tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love being inside me.”

He probably cums the fastest, but can go for hours and hours. Enduring all the teasing and edging you could ever imagine. Levi is so desperate for praise and he’ll reduce himself to a sobbing mess for you if that’s what you want.

“Th-there. Good boy Levi, good boy. I love how good you are Levi. Say my name.” “M-MC!” He might cum immediately but don’t worry, he’s ready to please you how ever long you like.

Mammon

Mammon’s not one to admit his secret love for power play. Being the masochist he is told you enough though. Holding him down, tying him up, sometimes gagging him with your wet panties all made his cock stir with need.

He’s more than happy to show you his devotion. So when you make any demand he’s ready to jump to it. He loves when you sit on his face. Or when you trap him down with your pact and ride him.

“MC...Im so close. I can’t hold on.” “Shhhh. Keep going. You’re doing so well baby boy. Let me spoil you.”

You can always see the effect of your words across his face. The way his eyes tear up or when his mouth hangs open while he moans loudly is reward enough. But you’ll keep on praising him.

Lucifer

Good luck. The untamable brat hiding in Lucifer will take time and patience, but another one that’s worth the work. It’s all about control for him so let him know he can trust you. Show him you know how to make him feel good.

When you first order him around, it’s about humoring you. But as the night wears on, he becomes more flustered, more embarrassed, and more aroused by your lead.

As you’re riding him, you always make sure to tell him how good he feels inside you. How full he makes you feel.

“Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer.” “You like this MC? Fucking yourself on my cock?” You might need to remind him who exactly is in control from time to time. But you make sure he knows he’s a good boy.

[jackrrabbit]

Short Leash /// Lev x f!Reader x Alisa (18+)

Summary: [Post-timeskip] The Haiba siblings get up to no good with their favorite pet.

A/N: Lev really went from skinny goblin to sugar папочка, and don’t even get me started on Alisa 😭 Also, imma lay heavy on those Russian terms of endearment 🇷🇺 I know Lev doesn’t speak Russian but I feel like post-timeskip he might, and it makes me horny so…

Dedicated to my eternal muse @koiibito​ for thirsting with me and stoking my lust for this duo and to @thisisthehardestthing​ for providing the fashion references that brought this fic to life for me (although I still can’t describe clothing for shit). Thank you!!!

Tags/warnings: (slight) pet play, threesome, alcohol/drug use mentions, size kink (yk Lev is 6’5 and Alisa is 5’10), dom/sub, orgasm control, rough sex, filming, breath play, crying, reader is a sugar baby in denial, no incest but the siblings fuck you together, yandere-ish, established BDSM relationship, all characters are adults

They like playing dress-up.

With you, if that wasn’t obvious. They’re models, so you could say that playing dress-up is a career for them, a method of putting food on the table…and Balenciaga in the closet…and every luxury pharmaceutical known to man in the medicine cabinet. And they’re so beautiful, both of them. They look good in anything. But when it comes to you, playing dress-up is a labor of love.

Today was Alisa’s turn, which means today was red: crimson lingerie in a box she had delivered to you before the party tonight. The box…it looked so out of place propped up against the bottom of your shabby apartment door that it’s a miracle no one stole it. Black packaging, lettering in gold, and the label printed on the box was French, you think? The two years of language class you took in high school didn’t help you read it, but you had no trouble understanding the number at the bottom of the receipt Alisa included with the set.

She left it on purpose, you know that. She wants you to know that the money she dropped on these flimsy little undergarments could have paid your rent for two months. But you can’t tell her that, or she’ll just insist again that your apartment is so small and ugly, it’s not worth it, it’s high time you moved in with her and Lev already, they would love to have you, and you’d never have to worry about rent again.

Spoiling you. That’s what they call it. Sometimes you think the Haiba siblings spoil you because they know it makes you uncomfortable.

Either way, you can’t say no. You’ve tried, over and over, told them they need to stop buying you clothes and shoes and diamonds but they just laugh you off. Lev, especially—he’s got this way of tipping his head to the side and blinking down at you while you try to explain how nervous it makes you to be dripping in excess, smiling lightly like he’s watching a child throw a tantrum. They just don’t get it. Or they do, and they think it’s funny.

Yeah, it’s probably the latter. You were raised right, raised not to accept gifts like this when you have nothing to give in return—but you were also raised to be gracious to the kindness of strangers, and while they aren’t exactly strangers, it’s just too exhausting to try to deny their generosity. Over time, little by little, you’ve given inches and the Haiba siblings have taken miles.

The Haiba siblings. That’s who they are, constantly presented in juxtaposition since Lev made his debut. They were born for this, and not because of their height. It’s the eyes—something savagely beautiful about that shade of green, those pale eyelashes, the slitted pupils like a cat’s.

The lingerie was Alisa’s choice, but the dress was Lev’s which is probably why he can’t keep his hands off you at the party, grip gliding down the low back and breath ghosting over your neck every time you try to put some distance between you. He’s usually more careful than this—Alisa can get away with the playful touching (groping?) because the cameras will just play it off as friendly skinship, but if someone catches Lev stroking across your thighs or tracing those long fingers over your spine while you move together on the dance floor, there’s going to be trouble. Not that it’s your problem, but one of you has to be responsible tonight, and judging by the number of times Lev’s excused himself to go to the bathroom and come back blinking and grinning and rubbing his nose, the responsible one is going to have to be you.

This time when he returns his gelled-back hair is mussed and—Jesus, how careless can he get?—there’s a little dusting of coke spilled over the collar of his black shirt. You roll your eyes and reach up to brush it off for him but he catches your hand and lifts it to his mouth. A kiss on your inner wrist first, and then his teeth are grazing over that tender skin, blunt edges digging in and drawing dents. A bite.

It’s just on the edge of painful when you belatedly yank your hand away. “Lev—you got it on your shirt, seriously—“ You try to make your voice sound scolding, but it comes out too high.

Lev’s eyes are dark, dilated; he laughs breathlessly and nudges closer to you, trapping you between his long arms and the bar. “You want some? Kotyonok, little kitten wants a treat?”

“No…I’m just drinking tonight. I don’t want to be out too late.” The vodka soda in your hand isn’t nearly strong enough, but if you have any more you’re going to be too drunk to keep your act together and deal with their antics. You don’t have the tolerance they do, and just because they can get away with all the coke and the alcohol and whatever else they’ve been playing with tonight doesn’t mean you can.

…Not that your relative sobriety stops Lev from dragging your face up to meet his, lifting your chin with both hands wrapped around the back of your head and bending down only enough that you still have to rise up on your tiptoes to kiss him. You only catch a hint of the smell of honey before the sour-sweet taste of Lev’s favorite drink (that medovukha mead stuff, it’s Russian, you think) is filling your mouth and his long tongue is sliding over yours. “Mmph—“

“Kitten, always so good,” he sighs, pressing closer so your face has to arch up to the ceiling to meet his. In your limited view you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he kisses you, sweeping over your tongue, biting your lip and laughing into your mouth. “So sweet…and impatient, yeah? Want to go home with us already?”

His hand on the small of your back is bunching your dress up, giving him the space to push his knee between your legs. You gasp sharply but it just eggs him on and his mouth dips down under your jawline, his body covering yours, so sudden and so public that your eyes flash around the room, wondering who might witness Lev—the international model Lev Haiba—sucking on your throat. “L-Lev, wait, someone—someone will see—“

“You’re asking to go somewhere private? Greedy girl…Alisa’s still having fun.”

You try to come up with a response, but it’s not easy to think straight when he’s holding your waist, circling it with those big hands and petting up to your ribs, cupping your tits while his thigh rubs between your legs. You can smell his cologne, bergamot and amber, and—and—you can smell his cologne—

“Lyovochka~” Alisa’s voice rings out and you know just by hearing it that she’s had as much as Lev. Her hand fists in her brother’s hair and pulls him off your neck none too gently, ignoring his curse and complaints. “Naughty, naughty. Playing without me, were you?”

“Alisa, you’re fucking up my hair,” Lev whines, but he straightens off you, pulling Alisa into your tight little trio at the bar. “Kitty says she wants us to take her home.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and wonder if they can see the blush under your foundation. “I didn’t— I can go home myself—“ Not that you have a chance in hell of leaving the party without them, but still. You can pretend to play coy.

“No.” Alisa places a finger on your mouth to shush you and then her eyes lower and her fingernail—painted silvery white, her signature color—pushes into your bottom lip. You stumble closer, hands meeting her shoulders through the thick white padding of the jacket she’s wearing, over the glittering crystals that look blindingly bright under the blacklights.

Silver and white. Always silver and white.

Her fingernail traces down your lip, drawing a fine line on your chin; on instinct, you tip your head back to give her access to pet down your throat until she comes to a rest on the neckpiece of the harness she included with the lingerie set. When her hand reaches the ring in the center of the choker she grips it, pulling your face away from Lev’s and toward hers. “Lyovochka, what do you think…? I saw it and thought of kotyonok. A collar for our little kitten.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I need to see more.” Lev’s hands are on you again now, splaying flat over your chest before his fingers curl, one by one, around the harness strap that leads from the ring at the choker down between your breasts until it disappears under the neckline of your dress. He’s tugging on it—lightly, but you can’t deny the feeling that it’s like a leash…or the feeling of heat gathering in your pussy at having the two of them all over you like this.

You shouldn’t be letting them touch you (and they are touching you, Alisa’s hand stroking your throat and Lev tugging your side into his chest). There’s always people watching at parties like this; you’ve attended these things on Lev’s arm or Alisa’s enough times to know better than to let them do as they please. You’re supposed to be the responsible one. Too bad your body is craving a lot more than the innocuous touches they can give you in public.

You swallow and Alisa grins, dark-painted lips stretching over those perfect white teeth. “So. Kitten, would you like us to take you home? Say please.”

You don’t have to say it. You could ask yourself why you let them get away with this, why you keep letting yourself fall to the mercy of these siblings, why they even want you in the first place, but those are questions for tomorrow morning—tonight, even though you should hate it, there’s a part of you that wants to purr every time they call you kitten.

“…Please,” you murmur, and as soon as the word is out Lev’s grip on the harness tightens, pulling the choker taut around your neck.

///

They end up ripping the dress.

You kind of hate them for it when you think about how many bills you could have paid with the money they spent dolling you up for tonight. But by the time they get around to it, you’re pretty much too horny to care.

They didn’t even wait til you got home (their home, you remind yourself, not yours), although that shouldn’t have surprised you. From Alisa tugging on your hair and Lev’s arm draped possessively around your shoulders, you should’ve seen it coming, but it still takes you by surprise that the three of you have barely piled in the back of the Uber when Alisa’s dragging you to sit on her thigh, unceremoniously pulling your dress over your hips and sliding her hand up the slit where the fabric falls open to rub your pussy.

You whine and squirm but can’t quite make yourself say the word “no”, instead squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on Alisa whispering in your ear that you’re a good girl, getting so wet for them. All three of you can hear the squishy damp noises your pussy is making sucking around her fingers, and dear god you hope the driver can’t hear it too—wait, is he looking? Your eyes peek open, traitorously seeking out the rearview to see if there’s a possibility he’s watching the show, but before you can work up the guts to tell them to quit it, Lev’s hand is folding around your jaw again and forcing two of his fingers past your lips for you to drool on. And—fuck—Alisa’s petting over your cunt, drawing slow lines up from the wetness gathered at your hole up to your clit.

By the time you’ve reached the building Lev and Alisa are staying at in Tokyo, you’re past the point of caring that other people are around. Lev has to pull you out of the car and off Alisa’s lap to get you to stop humping your ass into her lap and trying to push your mound into her fingers. Alisa winks at the driver—probably earning herself a 5-star rating despite all your bad behavior—and then the two of them are steering you past the doorman and into the elevator.

As soon as you’ve got the barest semblance of privacy, Lev pulls your back into his chest and grinds himself into you. You can feel how hard he is, the heat of his body leaching through the fabric of your clothing directly into your skin, hands around your waist forcing you to mold yourself into him while he layers kisses over the side of you neck. “L-Lev, ah— mm, someone’s gonna come in,” you whine as he pushes the bulge of his stiff cock against your lower back, but he just lets one of his hands drift up to scratch at the choker of the harness again.

Alisa’s hands meet your cheeks on either side, framing your face for a short moment so she can study your dazed expression, the flush on your cheeks, your sex-glazed eyes. You look like you want to get fucked, you know that? You look like you want them to push you down in the elevator and fuck you right there. “But kotyonok, you’re so darling. We should let other people get a chance to see, no?”

Lev’s hand spans the breadth of your throat, not quite pressing down (yet), so he must be able to feel the way your muscles contract and release when you swallow—not to mention the edge of tension that enters your body at the thought of someone seeing you in such a compromising position. “Ahh, kitty wants to be all ours, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want us to share.”

“Is that so?” Alisa doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just tipping your face up and letting her lips close over yours. She tastes more bitter than Lev did and for the brief moment you have between getting pressed between them and your brain short-circuiting, you wonder what she’s been drinking. “Are you being selfish?”

“Nnnh, I—“ you don’t have an answer for her, but it doesn’t really matter because the elevator is dinging at the penthouse and Alisa’s pulling you away from Lev into their apartment by the center strap of the harness. You’ve got no choice but to follow, and you consider telling her to quit dragging you around by your neck but there’s something about the pressure on your throat that isn’t…entirely unpleasant, so you hold your tongue.

Lev murmurs to Alisa in Russian—you hate when they do that, especially because you know they’re only doing it because they don’t want you to understand—and then you’re in the spare bedroom, the one that the siblings insist on referring to as your bedroom. Even though you don’t live here. Even though you do everything you can to avoid staying here. Even though the only times you ever spend the night are when you’re too fucked-out by the two of them to consider putting in the effort to get home.

Something tells you this is going to be one of those nights.

They work in sync, teasing down the straps of your dress and easing you out of it until Alisa snaps the harness between your tits and Lev gets impatient and someone pulls the back of the dress a little too hard and that’s when you feel tearing. “Shit,” you hear in Lev’s voice, a soft curse in Russian from Alisa, and then a reluctant peal of laughter as the dress flutters down to the ground.

“Did you—“ You’re about to curse them out for ruining something so fucking expensive, but Lev clucks his tongue and shakes his head and you fall silent. He’s pulling back from you—so is Alisa—and your heart jumps for a second wondering if you did something wrong until you realize they’re just looking at you, drinking in the image of you naked except for the lingerie Alisa picked out for you.

“Bordelle?” Lev murmurs, running fingers down the straps cinching around your waist, the belt holding up the garters—as usual, you don’t know whether to move away from his touch or melt into it.

Alisa smiles. “It was made for her, don’t you think? Our kitten looks good in red.”

Honestly, they call you kitten, but the way they look at you is less like the way owners look at a pet and more like wolves sizing up a little lamb they’ve cornered. Hungry. Starving. You’re not sure which you prefer, but it makes you self-conscious. You’d felt pretty confident about the way you looked when you examined yourself in the mirror before the party—Alisa has good taste, even if the lingerie is just this side of bondage gear and not something you would’ve bought for yourself in a million years—but now you have to fight the urge to cover yourself up with your hands…not that they’d let you.

True to your prediction, as soon as your hand twitches with the instinct to cross your arms over your bound-up tits Lev snaps down to catch it. “Let me see,” he instructs, and the authority in his voice is so definite that your arms fall back down to your sides automatically. “Good girl. Alisa, do you think we can keep it on while we fuck her?”

While we fuck her.

He says it so nonchalantly. And it’s not like you didn’t know that’s what you’re here for. You’re a grown-up, you’re sober (ish), and you’ve been in this room with the two of them enough times that you’re well aware there was only ever one way this night was going to end up. But the way he says it makes you shiver. They’re going to fuck you…like they own you. And it’s kind of terrifying how much you want to be owned.

“I think we can get the panties off without taking off the rest,” Alisa says to respond to Lev’s question, even as she brushes a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. “Besides, I have a surprise for her.”

A surprise? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them has pulled out something unexpected in bed—last time it was a ball gag and nipple clamps, and the time before that it was a magic wand vibrator (plated in literal gold, because the Haibas are nothing if not excessive) that had you begging and crying and creaming all over the sheets. You can’t help your anxiousness as Alisa pulls something out of the otherwise-empty dresser and sets it up to face the bed.

It’s…a camera. A camera? “You want to film it?” you blurt out, your voice sounding pitchy and nervous even to your own ears.

“Great idea,” Lev says, patting your head like that’s all it’ll take to make you feel better.

“Yes, kotyonok. I’m going to film you,” Alisa replies, fiddling with the settings and batting those long blonde eyelashes at the lens once she’s satisfied.

“Wait, I—I don’t know. I’m not like you, I can’t just—” you stammer. Sure, the twins will look perfect and irresistible and bewitching, but you? You’re not sure you want to have a video of yourself getting fucked stupid in their hands. “What if I don’t want to…?”

“But I want to.” Alisa’s gaze sweeps down over you and you lower your eyes so you don’t have to meet it, don’t have to feel the weight of it holding you down more securely than any leash. There’s a reason she’s a model—she could sell anything. Those eyes. How are you supposed to say no?

You want to step back away from her. You almost try, but Lev’s at your back already, long arms draped over your shoulders, a loose hold that nonetheless keeps you from moving. So instead of backing up, you just bite your lip.

Alisa’s face softens—she’s good at that, good at picking up the cues when she’s pushed a little too far for your comfort—and a second later you feel her hand wrapping around yours, holding it. “Safeword?”

Cherry. The safeword is cherry. It’s not that you’ve forgotten. It’s her way of reminding you that you have a safeword, and you can use it, and it’ll be okay. This isn’t even a full-on scene, but Alisa must be able to sense that the addition of the camera made you scared.

Picking up the change in mood a second later, Lev’s hand finds your other one and he strokes his thumb over your skin reassuringly. God, maybe it’s wrong that they can make you feel hunted one second and adored the next, but you let out a breath and relax, shaking your head to indicate that you’re not stopping.

She brings your hand up to her mouth and kisses it so lightly her lipstick barely leaves a mark—wait, oops. You’d forgotten she was wearing lipstick. You must have it all over you by now.

“Good girl. We take good care of you, don’t we?”

“…Yes.”

“We do.” Lev’s impatient, you can tell from the way he’s adjusting his grip to your waist and pushing you over to the bed. “We’re not going to share the video, if that’s what you’re worried about. Alisa likes to joke, but really…”

Your ass hits the mattress so you’re half-sitting, half-lying on the covers, propped up on your elbows, peeking through your eyelashes at the two of them looming over you—and, oh, there they are again.

The wolves.

“…we don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” Alisa finishes, holding up the camera and flicking the little red light on to record.

///

Lev starts, like usual. You think maybe it’s a control thing, that Alisa doesn’t let you touch her until you’re already falling apart on Lev’s fingers, his tongue…his cock. As much as she likes it when you bite back, you’re cuter when you’re begging.

She’s holding your face off the bed by a hand under your chin, wrenching your neck back so your wrecked face is level with the camera. You’re on your hands and knees—or, more accurately, your hands and elbows, with your ass arched up and Lev’s face buried in your slit. “Nngh, nnnnn, fuck please please—“ Your whining is barely coherent, but Lev knows what you’re asking for and he digs his fingers into the meat of your ass to hold you still as he latches his mouth over your clit and sucks.

Fuck— you keen and try to drop your head down to the sheets to angle your dripping cunny closer to his mouth, but Alisa’s grip on your jaw prevents you from getting any further out of the camera frame. “Uh-uh, no. I want to see you.”

“Alisa…ahhh…” Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth and you know you must look like a mess, spit practically falling over your lips as you try to stop yourself from cumming right here. Fuck, it feels good, feels so hot and wet that your juices don’t even have time to cool on your thighs before more is dripping down.

“Tell the camera what’s happening, kotyonok,” Alisa purrs, wiping the saliva off your lip and then pushing her fingers over your tongue.

“…eating me out, he’s—uhhhn—licking my pussy…” you slur around her fingers. Your glassy eyes flit between her appraising expression and the lens of the camera—even though you trust that they won’t show the video to anyone outside this room, it’s making you shudder to think about what’s on the little screen you can’t see—Alisa’s pretty silver fingernails coated in your drool as she presses them deeper into your throat, your body all bound up in red straps and gold fastenings, and Lev behind you, hair falling out of its careful style as he shoves his face deeper between your legs.

The edge of Alisa’s finger bites into the plush of your lip as you moan and unsuccessfully attempt to wriggle your ass under Lev’s grip. “Who’s licking your pussy?” she asks calmly, like she’s asking what the weather is like today.

“Lev, it’s, it’s Lev—fuck ohh, oh,” you whine as Lev slides his tongue flat from your clit up to your hole and pushes the slimy wet muscle inside. It’s so long, you’re never going to get used to how stupid long his tongue is, licking out your walls and making slurping sounds that are downright fucking vile.

Heat is gathering quickly in your abdomen, and you can feel it—that plateau rising before you hit your peak, and the tension in your thighs making them twitch and quiver as your muscles contract in anticipation—and his tongue is so long and thick it’s almost reaching your g-spot, almostalmostalmost, god-fucking-damnit. Your spine curls even further, arching yourself into him, wordlessly begging for him to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. “Gonna cum, fuck Lev please make me, make me cum!”

“Oh? Did I say you were allowed to cum?” Alisa asks, cat-like eyes narrowing.

Shit, fuck, she didn’t, but you don’t know if you can help yourself. Your hand fists in the sheet, curling your fingernails around the fabric to try to ease up the heat where Lev’s mouth is latched to your cunt. “Please Alisa—I need to—“

Alisa shakes her head. “But you don’t get to decide what you need, kotyonok.”

She’s right, but—but, it’s not fair, Lev’s switching between dragging his tongue over your clit and fucking you with it—you try to pull your hips away from his mouth but he doesn’t let you, effortlessly holding you in place while he teases you even higher.

“Who decides?” she continues, petting your jawline and wiping away the first hint of a tear from your cheek as you try to hold it back—

but you can’t.

“You-you decide! You decide when I cum!” you gasp, but your body is already betraying your words, convulsing and contracting as your climax hits you like a truck. You try to hold yourself through it but it’s impossible—your eyes roll back and arms go slack, dropping flat on the bedspread with your ass still pushed up into the air as your pussy walls contract around Lev’s tongue.

He’s still licking you—slower now at least, but you’re shaking at the feeling of him stimulating that sensitive bud. “Stop…too much,” you whine weakly, but he just raises a hand off your ass cheek to give it a light smack.

“Bad kitty,” he murmurs with his mouth still pressed against your slit, and the contact makes you seize up and twitch.

“Yes. Very bad.” Alisa doesn’t look angry—she’s never angry with you, even when you’re…disobedient, you guess—but there’s a note of mischief in her eyes that sends a thrill of fear (and not just fear) down your spine.

“S-Sorry, I’m sorry,” you whimper, but Alisa’s already pulling you upright by the ring on your choker.

“Did you cum? Even though we didn’t give you permission?” she asks, even though all three of you know you did. You nod, avoiding looking at both her and the camera as if that’ll disguise the obvious flush painting your cheeks red. At your admission, she smiles indulgently and murmurs something in Russian that you don’t understand, but you get the gist.

You’ve been naughty. And you’re going to get punished.

You hear the bedsprings squeak and feel the dip of the mattress as Lev climbs up behind you, settling his body against yours so the bulge in his pants is pressed against your back again. He’s still wearing most of his outfit from the party—they both are, and you note (not for the first time) how ridiculous it is that the siblings are willing to fuck you together but being naked in front of one another is the one boundary they won’t cross—but you don’t have to wait long before you hear him undoing his pants and pulling his cock out to rut it lazily against your back.

Automatically you shift your legs apart and reach down to finger yourself like you usually do, stretch your cunt out so you’re ready to take him. But before you can reach your pussy, Lev’s hand is folding over yours and lacing his fingers over your hand to stop you. “L-Lev?”

“No, kitty,” he tells you firmly.

You shiver. Alisa pinches your cheek and rubs over your ear. “What…”

“You already came,” Lev continues, and then you feel his cock sliding between your thighs, between your soaking-wet lips, using your cum as lubrication. “You came, so you don’t need to get ready. You’re going to take all of me, okay?”

All of him. You swallow. The full length slowly rubbing between your legs is going to go inside of you, without any preparation beforehand. “But…if I don’t, it’ll—it’s gonna hurt…”

“Yes, it’s going to hurt.” He waits for a moment, giving you a chance to say the safeword, but you don’t. “It’s going to hurt, and then it’ll feel good, and then you’re going to cream yourself on my cock like always. Yes?”

“Uh—“ You blink rapidly, already feeling his cockhead pushing between your lips toward your hole. Alisa combs your hair out of your face and you turn toward her. “Alisa?”

“Don’t ask her. You need to learn that your owners will take care of you. You need to trust us.” Lev presses in, stretching your little cunt around the thick head, and you suck in a sharp inhale.

“A-Ah—it’s too big,” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut and biting your lip as he slides himself deeper into you. And yeah, it hurts…but with how riled up you are, it definitely doesn’t hurt enough for you to want it to stop. The burn from the stretch is just making you wetter, and the feeling of being filled up by him is unbelievable. This was supposed to be a punishment, right?

Alisa cups your face to kiss you gently, and then her hands drift lower to circle your neck. Lev’s still sliding his cock into your pussy, slowly, slowly, so you can feel everything, every inch of his skin and every vein dragging against your g-spot. The deeper he gets, the more it hurts and the more you want to stop him, to take the lead—but he doesn’t let you.

“Are you going to cry, kitten?” Alisa asks you, reaching down to take one of your hands and pull it over her shoulder so you’re holding her. You grit your teeth and shudder and shake your head, making her lips quirk into a smile. “It’s alright if you cry. You’re still cute when you’re crying.”

With another roll of his hips Lev’s pushing up against your cervix and you choke out a curse. “F-Fuck, I’m not—not gonna c-c-cry…”

“Shh…” Upright on his knees behind you, Lev’s body is so big curled over yours that you feel smothered between him and Alisa. You sneak a glance back and there’s a pale pink flush over his cheeks and shoulders. “You’re taking me so well…taking my cock like that, going to make me forget you were bad…”

You stay still because it hurts more when you try to move, and you need to get yourself adjusted. You have to relax, you have to, but he’s so big, heavy and thick between your aching legs. You still haven’t recovered from cumming earlier, and every time one of the aftershocks hits you and you clench around him, the mix of pleasure and pain is almost too much. Even as aroused as you are, your cunt sucking him in for all you’re worth, he’s pushing against your cervix…and his hips haven’t even hit yours yet. He hasn’t bottomed out.

You’re going to take all of me, he said. You’re not even sure you can. But no matter what, you’re not—you’re not—gonna cry.

Until Lev pulls his hips back, sliding his cock out of you so it’s only his head sheathed at the entrance to your cunt, and then snaps forward again, filling you back up in a single stroke. He knocks into you so forcefully that you jerk forward, your chest mashing into Alisa’s. The force and his weight pulls a squeak out of you and—fuck, fuck—you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

“—t-t-too fast,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as if that’ll prevent them from getting glossy. The pads of Alisa’s fingers are skimming over your cheeks, and her skin is so soft and silky that you want to nuzzle in for comfort.

“But Kotyonok likes it fast, doesn’t she?…you feel how wet you are on my—my cock?” Lev’s face nudges against your shoulder, and you can feel his hands curling around your upper arms, securing you underneath him, holding you in place as he pounds into you.

You like it…like it fast? Your head is spinning, you’re dizzy and hot and feverish, Lev’s cologne is mixing with Alisa’s perfume and you feel like you’re drinking it, ugh. Fuck. Feels like you’re getting bruised up inside and it feels good. Your legs are jerking, weakly trying to push yourself back on his cock to make him fill you up deeper than your pussy can take but you’re totally at their mercy.

“Let her down, Lyovochka. I want kitty to lick,” Alisa says, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with her brother. She shifts back on the bedspread, easing herself into the pillows and pushing the skirt of her dress up over her waist to expose her panties: mesh, lace, powder-pink. They’re so pretty against her pale skin that you just stare down at her for a second, open-mouthed, before Lev’s releasing his grip on your arms and splaying his palm into your back, shoving your face down toward her lap.

You catch yourself on your elbows—barely—but you don’t have time to adjust to the new position and how stupid fucking goddamn deep Lev’s cock is hitting you before Alisa’s pulling your face up closer to her clothed pussy and adjusting her thighs to make room. Is she going to keep the panties on? Fuck—you almost ask her to take them off but you know you aren’t allowed so you just angle your face in and let drool coat your tongue so you can try to lap at her pussy through the fabric.

The awkward angle means you can barely taste her, but fuck, what you can taste is so good—they’ve conditioned you, the two of them, conditioned you like Pavlov’s dogs to crave what they’re doing to you so badly you can’t even think. The slightly-bitter taste of her cunt soaking through to your mouth has you intoxicated. She got like this from watching you, watching you cum all over the pretty lingerie she bought you, watching you get fucked so hard you’re crying. The thought of her getting off on watching you squirm makes your pussy clench around Lev’s cock.

“Gonna cum again?” Lev asks with laughter in his voice; his pace slows, dragging out the stimulation to your g-spot right as you feel him reach down to tease over your clit. You squeak out a denial but he doesn’t believe you—and why would he when he can literally hear the nasty wet noises from your pussy eating up his cock? “Yes…you are."

“I’m—n-no, I’m noooot…”

“Poor baby, can’t control herself.” Alisa’s pushing you back into her cunt, fingernails scraping over your scalp as you desperately try to lick her pussy. “Don’t be cruel, Lev.”

Another laugh, low and raspy and juddering from the pace of his cock stretching your walls and pushing against that sweet spot inside you. “I’m not the cruel one.”

They’re both cruel, you think, but that’s the only thing going through your mind because you’re pretty sure you’re going to go fucking crazy, your pussy is so hot you feel like you’re melting around him but you keep at Alisa’s cunt because you want to be good, want to be their good girl, want to be their good little kitty.

You want to be theirs.

“Please—please, can I, can I? Please let me, please I need you to let me…” you beg—somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’re going to hate yourself for giving in to them tomorrow but you want it so so so bad and you can’t cum without their permission, you can’t, you can’t be bad again.

“Well…what do you think, Alisa? Has she earned it?” There’s a growl in Lev’s voice—is he holding himself back? Yesss… He’s slowing down, fucking you up from the inside and the outside, pulling that heat out of you, making you squeal and whine and plead just like he said he would.

You want to, you need to, need to earn it, be good make Alisa feel good earn it—fuck, you have to try harder, and you flutter your tongue over her clit through her panties as well as you can, knowing you’re being sloppy but you don’t know how to help it. She waits a long moment and then sighs, pulling her fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face so you can look up at her, those pretty pretty eyes looking down at yours so indulgently. Adoringly. Like you’re something to be cherished. “Mm…yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

Your mouth falls open and your pussy does something, convulsing—

“—cumming I’m cumming Lev, A-Alisa—“

fuck, can’t breathe why can’t you breathe? something digging into your throat—

Lev’s, Lev’s hand under the choker dragging you upright tightening cutting off the sounds coming out of your mouth, choking your scream into a pathetic little mewl so he can hold your body up next to him while he fucks you through your climax—you can feel your face turning pink, your cunny holding around him, squeezing him so tight he can barely move but he still does, hips thrusting against your ass, the pleasure so bright and heavy you’re seeing sparks, head rushing, or maybe that’s just the lack of oxygen,

too tight the choker’s too tight you bring your hand back and tap against Lev’s and he lets go immediately. “Shit—sorry, are you alright? Can you breathe?”

You can feel him pulling out, and just that movement is enough to set off another round of clenching in your pussy. You’re sputtering, throat contracting in time with your cunt, not too painful. Just raw.

“Try to breathe, (Y/N),” Lev repeats, stroking down your back to soothe you. He sounds worried, and…that’s your name, isn’t it? It’s been a while since you heard one of them actually say your name instead of just kitten or kitty or kotyonok. It’s not like you can really bother pretending you’re not at least a little bit into the nickname, but hearing your real name out of his mouth stokes some kind of soft, nervous pleasure in you. And goddamn, you do not have the brainpower to analyze why.

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath—the air tastes sweeter than it did a minute ago—and then you roll over. “Did...did you cum?”

Lev shakes his head. You turn toward Alisa, and she just pats your cheek—of course she didn’t cum. Which means you’ve gotten to cum twice, and you didn’t get either of them off.

You bite your lip, turn to the side, and try not to let your eyes water for the—third? fourth?—time tonight. “I’m sorry, I—I’ll do it again, I’ll be better—“

“No,” Alisa says gently, adjusting her position to sit next to you and kiss your forehead. “You were so good, (Y/N).”

Lev mirrors her actions on the other side so you’re bracketed by the two of them. After a second of stillness to gauge your comfort, he starts undoing the clasps at the back of the choker and massaging his fingers over the tender skin underneath. You sniffle and then feel him lay his chin on the top of your head, arrange his arm over your side. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You know we like you no matter what, right?”

Alisa nods in agreement, pupils coming to a rest on the skin of your throat as she helps Lev remove the tangle of red satin straps from your body. “Our perfect little kitten. Who’s a good girl?”

Kitten.

Your stomach drops. Not your name. Just kitten.

It must be the twentieth time she’s called you that tonight, but somehow this time it’s different. You cringe, feeling cold where she touches you, but that doesn’t stop her from wiping away the smeared mascara and tear tracks from your cheeks. When you try to flinch away from her, Lev huffs out an annoyed breath and pushes you back into place. “Myesto. Stay.”

It’s a command. Like you would give to an animal. When you freeze, Alisa smiles and then she’s tilting your chin up with her fingers and bringing the camera—the camera, you forgot about the camera—to your throat so she can capture the mess of pink lines and indentations from where the choker bit into your neck…

…and who are you kidding? It’s not a choker, it’s a fucking collar. And you’re not their lover, or their girlfriend, or even their fuckbuddy.

You’re their pet.

[clownpi]

Okay so another new AU idea (hold off on throwing those tomatoes at me further distracting myself from current fics, haven’t written anything yet).

Lightcannon, but baseball. Inspired by the plethora of sports anime I’ve watched (special shout out to Big Windup) and the absolutely iconic “I Don’t Dance” musical number from HSM2

Hear me out.

Jinx is a pitcher with incredibly good aim, but an absolutely awful attitude that ends up pissing off both the opposing team and her own. Always joking and trying to start shit, the best at getting under someone’s skin, with a terrible temper if you managed to trigger it. No catcher has stuck with her very long due to basically never listening to their calls and sometimes straight up losing games because of it, whenever they try discussing it she’ll brush them off or snark at them. After starting a major fight in middle school she got banned from the baseball team (no one missed her) and enters highschool thinking of ditching the sport all together, not helped by there being no girls team there (her old school out in the country didn’t care and put all them together just so they’d have enough to play) and the actually baseball team wanting nothing to do with her after hearing the rumours + she’s a girl. Also short gremlin energy, but that’s just Jinx being Jinx.

Lux is a catcher known for her easy going attitude and nickname “Gentle Giant” that’s able to deal with almost any pitcher, yet never ends up forming long-term battery with any of the people she’s played with. She also never really formed any relations to her other teammates, keeping to herself in most cases and just kinda ‘being there’ blending into the background. Very passive even when things grew serious, making her teammates get upset at her not “taking things serious”. She is buff tall in this and will pick up Jinx like a temperamental kitten when she tries starting shit.

Relationship is still kinda rough, but they balance each other out where Jinx finds she can’t will herself to try starting things with Lux because she never gets a reaction (constantly muttering “buzzkill” about Lux). Lux is usually able to calm Jinx down before she explodes (or literally just carries her away) or act as a “Jinx translator” for the rest of the team. On Lux’s end, Jinx makes her be less passive of a person and learn to speak her mind better. Jinx is also able to forcefully drag her out of her shell and acts as the teams “Lux translator”.

Other tidbits:

Vi notices that while Jinx makes a big show about not caring that she can’t play anymore she actually does and is the one to instigate forming a team by dragging her girlfriend Caitlyn into being the teacher advisor for them (she knows nothing about baseball and is an English teacher) while convincing Sevika (former pro that lost her pitching arm in a car crash, was the one that initially got Jinx interested in baseball as a kid) to come in as their grouchy gruff couch.

Silco doting step-dad of Jinx that funded her interest in baseball (and also covering up her outbursts) that Vi begrudgingly lets fund the team itself where the school can’t. Helps design their uniforms, get the busing, etc. Goes to all games to record Jinx’s plays and just overall spoils her a lot (part of her attitude problem likely comes from him...).

Vander their adopted dad who is trying his best dealing with both them and the extraness of Silco, knows very little about baseball (he was a drama kid in school) but still makes sure to go to any games he can. Tries to help the team where he can, usually by providing them meals. One of the few people that Jinx will actually listen to, balancing out Silco’s actual inability to not spoil her rotten.

Caitlyn loves her girlfriend dearly and easily caves to her, becoming the advisor for the team and (in an attempt to not appear incompetent) begins doing intensive research into the subject of baseball, far more than is actually needed since Vi literally just needed her to rubber stamp things. Vi loves her though and says nothing. Knows how to deal with Jinx from years of having to do just that. Jinx is weak to her stern ‘Mom’ tone as she puts it.

I need at least 11-12 girls for the team so currently I got:

Seraphine (Of course): Newbie with lots of passion, team cheerleader that helps hold it together. She brings in her friend group onto the team because they worry about her.

This would lead into Akali, Evelynn, Ahri, and Kai’sa coming in (at least I think).

Kinda want Janna on the team just so Jinx will constantly joke about her being an old lady (”Holy shit, who let granny sign up? You sure she’s an actual student? Not some ghost that just haunts the school since its founding?”) because she looks mature for her age (or she actually is, who knows lol, just a running gag of her making weirdly dated references or them being unable to find much in the way of student records/her being evasive).

Unsure about who else to round out the team, might just throw in characters I like playing in game or ones I like the personalities for. Like you could have Kayle and Morgana, two twins that fight about everything. Or have Leona and Diana (even just have one of them join while the other is the supportive girlfriend). Lots of things.

[alreadyblondenow]

How old is too old?

Jung Jaehyun x reader // SMUT, SMUT, angst, fluff

Themes: OLDER JAEHYUN, YOUNGER READER, please I’m begging you don’t read my works if you’re not comfortable.

Word count: 5k

Summary: Jaehyun was your father’s best friend and life has it’s own twist of reuniting you again. 

Warnings: OLDER JAEHYUN, YOUNGER READER, BOTH LEGAL AGE, sex, sex, sex, over stimulation, choking, slapping, dom Jaehyun, mentions of other idols, pairing of other idols, swearing,  unprotected sex, rough sex, filthy sex, sad ending, Jaehyun is Johnny’s best friend, Johnny is your dad do the math. Mentions of alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, sad ending

A/N: I did this in one sitting. This is only a made up story and theres no way in hell that this is true. If something about the warning doesn’t sit well on you please don’t read. I would like to thank the anon who pointed out the sensitive topic. I already deleted some parts and edited the fic. Again thank you, and I will be better next time. For the first 200+ readers, I’m sorry if the fic was carrying something sensitive and I was clueless about it but after consulting with some of my fellow writers, I think the edited version of this fic is now safer. Thank you! And if the concept is still sensitive you can message me again I’ll be happy to delete it. 

Have you ever seen someone so dreamy and handsome that he sparkles every time he’s around? Or whenever he’s around he just lights up the whole room with his smile. He’s like an angel or a saint that walks among us. Mr. Jaehyun or Mr. Jae, as you call him, is the epitome of that description.

Same birthday, different age. 

Years later

“Good morning princess, happy birthday”

The sun is hitting your eyes and you put an arm on your head, not minding the person kissing your exposed thighs. Yuta has been your fuck buddy ever since the day you’ve been introduced to sex. He was your first at everything, but you two never had the guts to take your relationship to the next level. Nonetheless, you’re both still scared to lose each other.

“See you tonight?” you said weakly, admiring Yuta’s angelic features under the bright natural light that comes in your room perfectly.

“Definitely” he kissed your cheek and flopped on top of your naked body, “Don’t forget to clean up well, I came almost five times inside you last night,” he said before he kisses you one last time and leaves you to enjoy your morning.

On your way to the dining room, every one that crosses your path greets you good morning and happy birthday. You respond with a smile and ‘thank you’ as you continue to walk, everyone seems busy for the dinner party tonight.

On the long table, you found your mother and father having coffee and reading the newspapers. “Morning” you greet the before you sit.

“Happy Valentine's day” Johnny, your father, teases you as he folds the newspaper. You roll your eyes at him at let out a small laugh, “You’ll love my surprise for you tonight” he added, chewing his toast with strawberry jam on it.

“Another car? Oh, wait. Did you bought me a whole Chanel boutique already?” you tease your father, even though he perfectly knew you hate material gifts.

“Oh no. You’ll like this one” he smirks at you and stood up to give you a kiss on the forehead, “happy birthday, I’ll be back before dinner and before the guests arrived. Just have to handle a few things at the office”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to buy me a private plane” you tease him again and left you with your mother to enjoy breakfast together.

Living with fame and money all your life didn’t make you a spoiled daughter, or a big spender like your dad. You’re always about the simple things in life that give you genuine happiness, it’s always the people around you are showering you with expensive gifts that you’re grateful for but to be honest, you don’t need it. Family, career, and love. Those are the most important things in your life. But about love, you’re not sure yet.  

During the family dinner, as usual, the house is packed with family, family friends, and some people at work. Champagnes everywhere, people chatting about business or whatnot, families catching up, and friends reuniting.

“Where is dad?” you asked your mother, Seulgi while you wait for both your father and Yuta to arrive. You’re not blowing your birthday candles without your dad.

As you chat with other people and enjoy your celebration, your ears rang when you heard people exclaiming that Johnny has arrived. You walked to the entrance to greet your father, and to your surprise… Jaehyun is with him. Handsome as ever as if those years of not seeing each other didn’t make him age.

“You remember Jaehyun right?” your father introduced you to Jaehyun like one of his business partners, but Jaehyun is more than that.

“Mr. Jae, you’re back- is he, the gift that you’ve been telling me?” the question was directed to Johnny but your eyes are glued to Jaehyun, shaking his hands still.

“You’ve grown so much!” Jaehyun knew it was wrong to scan your hot body but he couldn’t resist. He’s good at hiding it.

Seeing Jaehyun right before your eyes made you feel things that you are not supposed to be feeling. He’s not your uncle, you don’t share the same blood, he’s just one of your dad’s business partners. The lust that you felt the moment you saw him scan your body felt so wrong but good at the same time. How can Mr. Jae do this to you?

As the night became more and more interesting, you and Jaehyun spent hours and hours talking and catching up. You have completely forgotten about your other guests, you just want to talk to Jaehyun the whole night.

He hasn’t changed a bit, the only thing that changed in his life is his steady career. The business in Connecticut made him filthy rich because he put his whole life on managing it. He apologised for leaving you and not saying goodbye, “to be honest I’m happy I didn’t see you before I leave, I knew you would be sad and I couldn’t bear seeing you like that. How are you?”

“The same sweet girl that you left, Mr. Jae” you just flirted and you hope he will just shrug it off. “Managing my own business now, I could live alone already but I’m too attached with my parents-“

“Hey, princess” Yuta came out of nowhere and interrupt you mid-sentence. He kissed you on the cheek, enough to make Jaehyun think that he’s your boyfriend or someone who has your heart. “Didn’t get to spend some time with you tonight, but it’s fine. I left your present on top of your bed, I hope you like it”

Jaehyun was watching attentively the whole time you and Yuta were talking, and after Yuta left you noticed that Jaehyun was smirking while he drinks his wine. “Now, I’m perfectly convinced that you’ve grown. He’s not your fiancé or anything right?”

“No no.” you shook your head nervously, “Just someone, who can provide my sexual needs” you added confidently letting him know that, yes you’re an adult now.

The catching up with Jaehyun continues, but soon your birthday ends and everyone needed to go home. Jaehyun kissed you on the cheek and told you that he was so happy to be reunited with you again.

“Oh, Mr. Jae” you blurted out before he gets in his car, “Happy birthday”

Jaehyun smiled so sweetly, heart-pounding, ear turning red because he’s so happy that you remember. “Happy birthday to us”

Weeks after your birthday, you decided to live separately with your parents and move out of the mansion. Johnny was sad about it, but he clearly knows sooner or later he needed to let go of you. While you were putting your stuff and organizing some of your things, someone knocked at your door but you’re hands are full you couldn’t open the door for them. “Come in, it’s open. Sorry, my hands are full” You were inside your walk-in closet, putting your shoes inside boxes and you wonder who it might be.

“Thought I should say hi to you. Your father is busy taking important calls” Jaehyun explained. 

For a moment, you and Jaehyun chatted and exchanged questions. He asked you what made you change your mind about living on your own, you asked what's his business with your dad lately. Both gave interesting answers until the room became silent as you go back to packing your stuff.

He watches you put your things on boxes, but your Victoria’s Secret satin sleepwear catches his attention. Those thin shorts that expose your butt cheeks whenever you bend over, thin sleeveless top that he oh so wanted to remove, the way your nipples ghost on your thin satin sexy top makes him want to pinch your nipples until you’re whimpering.

You don’t know what he needs, but you feel his breath on your nape. His presence is not easy to avoid when he’s directly behind you and awfully close. “Mr. Jae, do you need something else?” You clear your throat before reaching something but he stopped you from moving. He turned you around and his hands are quick to hold your ass, squeezing them gently with both hands, your body relaxes against his chest but your heart is pounding.

“Put your leg around my waist” it was a stern tone that made you follow without hesitation. He put you on the nearest wall and pinned you the there, his hands are busy removing your shorts and panties. Once you’re naked waist down, he unbuckles his belt and released his thick, veiny cock. The place was dead silent and you couldn’t talk because you can’t believe what’s happening. He kissed you on the cheek before pushing in halfway.

It hurt. But he didn’t care.

He pulls out again only to push right back in a little harder than before. You closed your eyes because it fucking hurts but it felt so good that you part your lips and rolled your head back.

After a few pleasurable thrusts that stretched your walls good, he stopped. The goal was not to have sex and had an amazing orgasm then and there. Jaehyun was testing the waters if you’re up to doing something stupid with him. His main goal for putting his cock inside you was not to give you an orgasm but to let you know that letting him fuck you someday will fucking feel good.

“If you want this to happen again, go to my place tonight. I’ll text you the address” he went down to get your shorts and panties on the floor and helped you wear it. He buckled his belt in front of you without taking his eyes off of you.

Jaehyun left you in your room with a confused mind. Questions over questions but you do know one thing, he will surely see you in his place tonight. And because of that, you finished putting your stuff and took a long bath on the tub. Making sure that every part of your body smells like lavender.

The thought of Jaehyun being your father’s best friend doesn’t sit well on you but the urge and the want of being fucked by Jaehyun lurks in your mind. What’s so wrong about having sex with Jaehyun anyway? Yes, he’s older but you’re an adult too.

As you drive to Jaehyun’s house for the first time, you try not to think about the people who will get mad if they know about this stupid thing that you’re about to do. Jaehyun’s house location is so far from the city, away from every chaos you could think of. As expected, his house is big and well guarded. But it feels cold and lonely.

“You live alone? Mr. Jae?” you asked when you got out of the car, Jaehyun welcoming you with a hug. He looks comfortable in his house clothes, slippers and all.

“Yes. My helpers come and go every weekend to clean the house. How was the drive?” He put an arm around your waist before he opens the door and enter his house, it was beautiful inside. A Chet Baker song was playing somewhere around the house, and it smells good. “I cooked dinner, I hope you’re starving”

You thought that once you stepped foot in his house, he will bring you straight to his room and have sex with you because it’s always like that with Yuta but you’re wrong. He made you dinner and the set up is kind of romantic. The food that he cooked is delicious it made you feel like you were eating somewhere expensive.

And just after dinner and two bottles of wine ago, you two catch up some more. You caught yourself laughing at his stories, giggling when he flirts with you, smiling whenever he looks at you deeply. Then it hit you, maybe he’s just shy to admit that he likes you and that his true purpose is to date you not just fuck you.

“What I did earlier is rather bold and wrong, I’m-“

“It’s okay, Mr. Jae. I’m here, it happened already” he smiled as you sip on your wine.

“Please, call me Jaehyun” he smiled back to you.

When the two of you grew tired of catching up already, finally he brought you to his room. He left you for a minute to lurk around and all you felt was loneliness. The room felt lonely, his entire house too and you’re not stupid to know why you’re here. It’s clear that Jaehyun is lonely in his life even though he has all the money in the world.

“Where are you?” you feel his lips on your neck. Maybe he noticed that you were spacing out. But again, Jaehyun is close to your body just like earlier and it brought you back to reality. You can feel the warmth of his body that you oh so crave, his soft lips that you want to kiss and taste. He turned your body around to face him and just like that he kissed you softly as if he just read your mind.

“Is it weird?” that an older man is kissing you right now? 

“No. Not at all, do it again?” you confidently requested, and he happily did it again. Arms around Jaehyun’s neck, kissing each other like everything is right, your fingers go through his soft hair. Every moan that comes from your mouth goes straight to his cock making it twitch and want to be inside you.

He sat you down on the edge of his bed and went in between your legs, removing your laced panties slowly. Dress all wrinkled and just above your thighs, straps already fell off your shoulders making you looked ruined already.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said while removing his pants together with his expensive underwear. What’s about to happen is, Jaehyun will fuck on the edge of his bed. He pushed inside you again for the second time today without foreplay, rolling hips slowly making you see how lustful he is.

He was so concentrated on fucking you, but he leaned down for a kiss and pull away again so he can see his cock go in and out of your pussy. Jaehyun’s deep grunts and moans are like music to your eyes while yours are like an achievement for him. Hearing you moan because of him feeds his pride and he loves it.

“That Nakamoto guy you’ve been having sex with didn’t fucked you enough” he informs you confidently with a sly smirk on his face. You were so sensitive by this time, both legs folded and clipped on the edge of the bed giving Jaehyun more access to your cunt, explore angles as he pleases. You wanted to close your legs so bad, but it feels so damn good you force yourself to keep your legs open for him.

“Spread your folds for me” you followed and you let him flick his thumb up and down your slit while he fucks you still, putting pressure on his finger and putting his whole cock inside you.

“Too much,” you said weakly, out of breath, gasping so hard.

“And that’s what makes it feel good, enjoy it.” by this time you don’t know what made you cum so hard, his sexy voice, his cock inside you, or his fingers. The orgasm Jaehyun gave wasn’t something Yuta can easily deliver and you hate that you’re comparing them with each other. You close your legs and shiver on the mattress, feeling your pussy tingle even tho Jaehyun pulled out already.

“Good?” he leaned down on you again and kissed your lips, your neck, your face while you two crawl up to the bed and lay comfortably with the pillows. The kiss was full of hunger and lust as if he’s not letting you rest even just for a minute after making you cum for the first time. It was so intense that you’re high isn’t going away and you can feel him line his cock again while he distracts you with his hungry kisses.

“Jaehyun, I need to breathe” he chuckles and gave your request. He used the time to remove his shirt and get you naked before positioning himself again in between your legs that you refuse to open, “Baby, don’t make me open those legs for you” it wasn’t a threat, but it made you scared even tho he was kissing your neck the whole time he was talking.

His beautiful body is on top of you as you slowly open your legs again for him, he tickled your sides and it made you giggle. “Y/n, relax why are you so tensed?” Jaehyun’s arms are perfectly wrapped around your body and it’s making you blush and shy because it’s such an intimate position, the kind of sex position married couples use.

“I’m not tensed, it’s just everything feels new and were so close-“

“Get used to it then” he proceeds to kiss your neck and make you calm using his lips, he was still embracing you and you doubt that he’s going to pull away any second. “Ready?” he asked, rolling his hips a little and you nod your head ‘yes’.

There’s that stinging stretch again because of Jaehyun’s cock that makes your mouth open and your eyes closed. Your embrace to Jaehyun tightens while he thrust in and out of you slowly, but not for long. His thrusts became hammering pounds, that your head hit his headboard already but no one cares, it feels good. “Harder Jae, harder” it was a breathy tone that Jaehyun loved.

You can’t believe that those hard and piercing thrusts can make you both cum in no time and as expected, Jaehyun is wild. “Jae” you call out his name but he chose not to listen.

Tears on your eyes started to fall because of the overstimulation but the man above you sill hasn’t stopped, deep inside you don’t want him either. Jaehyun was the kind of man who will not stop even though your cunt is overflowing with his cum, he overstimulated you, he overstimulated himself. And just like that you both cum again, moaning as loud as you can because you perfectly knew no one can hear you.

That night, you’ve been fucked far too many times in ways you’ve never been fucked before. Every round was more intense than the last one, you never felt so thankful to whoever invented birth control pills because you’re damn sure than Jaehyun can get you pregnant.

You don’t know how, but you somehow passed out and you woke up clean and covered with Jaehyun’s thick duvet. He wasn’t beside you, so you forced yourself to go up and wear his black shirt as cover to your naked body and went outside his room. The house was so big that you don’t know where to start finding him, good thing you found him sitting on one of his couches facing the lit pool outside with a glass of wine on his hand. Body still exposed but he’s wearing a clean Calvin Klein boxers briefs now.

“Why are you sitting so far away from me, come sit on my lap” the invitation made you smile and you walked slowly towards him and sat on his lap as requested. “I'm sorry that I had to drag you into this mess. I’m too old to find someone that will love me genuinely, that’s why I find people who can satisfy my sexual needs”

See, you’re right. He’s lonely. And he got the idea of making you a target for his needs because he knew about you and Yuta being fuck buddies during that time on your birthday. “Oh, so that gave you an idea, huh” you smirk, and raked his hair away from his face.

“Yeah. I'm sorry”

“No don’t be. Clearly, I loved everything that happened tonight the moment I stepped right in”

“How about your man friend, Nakamoto. Will he be okay about you fucking other people? Older people?” he took a sip on his wine, leaning comfortably on his expensive couch giving you a perfect view of his hot body.

“You may be old but you fuck like a horny teenager. Yuta doesn’t need to know” the conversation is getting serious.

“Good because, what we have, what happened should stay between us. It will ruin my career, my job, my friendship with Johnny, my relationship with you”

Ouch. That hurt you. “So you’re my second fuck buddy now?” how can you even think that he likes you and that what just happened in his bed was not just because he’s lonely. How can you think that he longs for you, need you? You scoffed and tried to get out of his lap but he’s quick to grab you and put his hands on your thighs.  

“No no, I didn’t mean it that way. We’re together. We’re together as we can be, but we can’t go public until we found a solution. Okay? Don’t frown, please. My heart can’t bear to see you sad or disappointed”

“Okay, I’m sorry I overreacted”

“Let's sleep?” you nod your head with a smile and just like that he left his glass of wine on the table near the couch and carried you back effortlessly in his room. You will never forget this moment that you two slept in one bed. Back against his chest, arms around your waist, the air that comes out from his nose hits your nape perfectly like a reminder that he’s close to you.

Days went on and on like this until it turned into weeks then months. Jaehyun didn’t feel lonely in his house big house anymore, and your life is complete now because you found love. He helped you designed your apartment but you never stayed there because you live in Jaehyun’s now with him.

You and Jaehyun go on to dates like a normal couple but with utmost caution. Spending beautiful nights under the stars, celebrating holidays together, going on vacation. You and Jaehyun plan a lot for the future, and it makes you happy because you have something to look forward to.  

As you live with Jaehyun, you became the woman of the house who managed everything even the expenses. Everything was transparent between you and Jaehyun, ‘what’s mine is yours’ as he described it. It was like a trial to married life with Jaehyun, and you’re loving it so far. A perfect love story and no one is reckless enough so not a single soul suspects your relationship.

“My business partners are giving me a headache” he complains as soon he enters your shared room and kissed you. He smelled like car air freshener and he looked like he had a rough day.

You continue reading your book and reply to some of your clients through email on the side while you wait for Jaehyun to come to bed with you. Focused and unbothered, you didn’t feel him kiss your legs as he crawls on the bed shirtless and only wearing hid pajamas.

“Can we have sex? Make my day better please” he asks so sweetly in between kissing you on your neck, your book is long forgotten.

“Thought you were tired?” you caressed his flawless back, feeling his back muscles on your hand, he only shook his head and kissed you down until you reach the fluffy pillows. Swiftly he unbuttons your sleepwear, revealing your boobs that he soon attacked with kisses and love bites. You managed to get him naked and he managed to remove your thin shorts and underwear.

He checked your slit and you were a little dry, so he went down between your legs and spit on your cunt. Filthy but hot. Whenever you have sex with your boyfriend, his cock still stretches your cunt like he’s getting bigger and bigger each day. You never get used to is. You let out a soft ‘ouch’ and Jaehyun heard it, “Yes that’s right. Hurt for me baby”

“I’m not tight you’re fucking big Jae. You’re not even hard enough and yet-fuck!” he interrupted you with a piercing thrust mid-sentence. “Why do you always do that” you whine, he just smirked and continue fucking you wild.

Whenever Jaehyun is stressed like this the sex is always rough and wild, and you love it. He pulls away from kissing your swollen boobs and put a hand around your neck choking you well. His other hand is intertwined yours so whenever it’s too much you can always tell him to stop. But it was never too much for you. The overstimulation, yes. But his roughness, never. “Harder,” you request in between short breaths.

You smiled at him before you cum, eyes rolling back as usual. He pulls out slapped your cunt while you’re still sensitive and shivering, enjoying the view of his beloved girlfriend whimpering on the bed. “Why is fucking you one time is always not enough. We always have to go for a few more rounds. I’m so in love with you” He grabs both of your hands and put it around his neck, “Keep me close Y/n, I love you” he said before going inside you again to fuck you a little bit softer, gentler, and slower.

Having slow sex with Jaehyun is as good as having rough sex with him. “Does it still hurt? I’m sorry” but he still thrusts and puts his entire cock inside you making a bulge on your stomach.

“Fuck I forgot, pull out when you cum okay? I forgot to take my pill this week. Sorry” it was something that didn’t scare Jaehyun. Having kids with you is something he dreamed of happening and he’s ready for it.

“I want to have kids with you” he sounded serious but you’re not on the right mind right now to tell him your answer. You want it too, but you’re not yet ready. You still have so much to unlock in your life. If he pulls out, that will give you relief. But if he doesn't, well, you can just hope that you won’t get pregnant.

After a few thrust,

He pulled out.

What a relief.

That night, Jaehyun stayed in bed a little late just looking at your beautiful face under the nice moonlight shining through his window. He will ask you to marry him and live a normal life, he will face Johnny and handle the situation in his own hands. He will do everything in his power to give you a happy life without hiding from the people who will judge your relationship.

The next day, you woke him up with loving kisses just how he wants it. Jaehyun lived almost half of his life waking up alone in a cold bed, but now that you’re part of his life, he gets to enjoy waking up from your kisses and waking up with a dimpled smile.

“Good morning, you’re up early,” he said groggily but with a smile.

“See you tonight at the party? I have to leave early and take care of some stuff at the office”

He nods his head and forced himself to sit up and give a kiss. A little longer than you expected, but always sweeter than yesterday’s kiss. “I love you. Find me later okay?” you nod your head ‘yes’ and kissed some more.

The annual business party that your dad threw for his company is a big event for him, nonetheless, it’s not stressful just full of people wearing tuxedos, gentlemen with their wives, your dad’s business partners together with their secretaries.

Wearing a beautiful Valentino dress, you walk to the entrance with Yuta hoping that your boyfriend will not get mad because this was just a last-minute thing. Yuta came out of nowhere before you enter the party, and you didn’t want to shoo him away because it will hurt his feelings. After all, you two had a history.

Seated on the same table, you and Yuta, your father and mother, Jaehyun, and his date Yeri. As part of hiding, you and Jaehyun didn’t talk too much but he did tell you you’re beautiful in front of your father and complimented the necklace that you’re wearing which he gave you. Seeing Yeri near your boyfriend hurt you like you two just broken up. Like you and Yuta, Jaehyun and Yeri had a history because they’re ex-lovers.

“Come dance with me” Yuta being the music lover that he is dragged you into the dance floor and made you dance with him. You feel Jaehyun’s eyes follow you even though you were busy dancing under the upbeat music and having fun with Yuta on the dance floor together with the other guests.

Jaehyun on the other hand invited Johnny to smoke tobacco with him. Men with tobaccos stayed in a room where they can play poker peacefully and talk more about business. This is the perfect time Jaehyun thought. The perfect time to tell Johnny about his relationship with you. Seeing you with Yuta was like the push he has been waiting for and now, he’s going to do it.

“Johnny, I love your daughter” he blurted out, holding his tobacco with his right hand.

Johnny chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “I know right. Crazy how she was just a little girl, felt like only yesterday. Can’t believe she’s running her own business right now and being successful” he smiled, taking a hit on his tobacco.

“That’s all true, but that’s not what I meant” the atmosphere was quiet even though Jaehyun and Johnny are away from the other men. “Were in love Johnny. We’ve been together for ten beautiful months now”

Johnny was speechless and he wanted to punch Jaehyun on the face right then and there, but this is his party. He can’t cause a scene. Johnny is a powerful man, he can ruin anyone and he’s well aware of that. So instead of causing a scene, he fixed his rings and told Jaehyun that, “You’re a well-established businessman Jaehyun. I think you don’t need me anymore as a partner and… best friend. Stay away from my daughter” he pats Jaehyun on the shoulder and made his way back to the party again to find you.

“Can I dance with my daughter, Yuta?” your father smiled at you and took you dancing. You saw Jaehyun sit beside Yeri, smiling so beautifully and making each other smile. “Oh look at my best friend, I’m happy they got back together” it was a lie that Johnny had to made up to ruin your relationship with Jaehyun and also his way to find out if Jaehyun is telling the truth.

Johnny saw the sadness in your eyes, that’s when he confirmed it. “How about you? Yuta looks like a fine man who’s been around. Give him a shot? After all, The Suh and Nakamoto company looks good merging” it was clear that he was suggesting you to marry Yuta someday because of business and you hate it. But you smile and joked nonetheless.

“Arranging me for marriage dad?”

“Psh. No. I’m just showing you a choice. Yuta is a good person, comes from a good family, and-“

“And I’m not in love with him” your dad knew he had to shut up.

You thought that the party will not stress you out and you will have a great time but the opposite happened. Now, you just hope that Jaehyun will turn everything around remove the stress away. But no. He was silent when you got home and didn’t welcome you with kisses that you oh so crave by this time. You went separately, of course, he was the first one who got home but he’s still wearing the same clothes he wore from the party when you found him in the living room drinking hard liquor.

The dress is beautiful, but you wanted to get out of it because it reminds you what your father just told you about marrying Yuta. Soon, Jaehyun joined you in your shared walk-in closet but he’s still silent.

“You didn’t tell me you were going with Yuta. Baby, I was hurt. I wanted to dance with you so bad but-“

“You should’ve danced with Yeri” you blurted out. “She was beautiful Jae, you just let her sit in the table all night. Did you even offered to take her home?”

“Why would I do that, we're together” he watches you unzip the beautiful dress and expose yourself in front of him with only the lingerie that you’re wearing. “Okay sorry I was overreacting” he leans on the door, shoulders crossed, and his bow tie is already undone. “But I told Johnny about us earlier”

You were speechless and disappointed, you scoffed and you can’t believe he did that. “Well you look disappointed” Jaehyun was hurt, he thought you would be happy that he finally had the guts to man up and tell your father the truth.

“I am! Because you decided all by yourself. You didn’t talk about this with me. No wonder my father was acting weird”

“What, do you want to hide forever Y/n? I’m doing this for us. Don't you want to get married and have kids someday?” by this time both of your tones towards each other were a little higher than usual.

“I know your intentions Jae, but it's not yet the right time. I want to have a family and kids with you but not now. I’m just starting to build my life. Come on Jae, you sound like you’re proposing to me now“ you still sound disappointed.

He thought that getting married will make you happy, but now it’s clear to him that he’s wrong. “Maybe I am”

“Well, then I have to say no for now” that was like a bullet straight to his heart. It was like saying ‘Jaehyun, I can’t marry you because you’re too old. Wait for me to get older, then we’ll talk about marriage’ He ignored what you said.

“Wha did johnny told you?” his eyes were cold, there’s no sign of spark in it.

“He said you were back with, Yeri” you were removing your makeup at the bathroom with only your robe covering your naked body.

“That’s bullshit, my own best friend” Jaehyun sounded irritated you can here drawers closing loudly because clearly, he’s not happy that Johnny bad mouthed him in front of you.

“I know its not true, Jae. He was just saying that because he’s concerned and I don’t know, protecting me?”

“Huh? Protecting you from what Y/n? Were together for almost a year now tell me, am I treating you bad? Can you say that you’re in bad hands?” it was not a question. You knew so you didn’t answer.

This is your first fight with Jaehyun and this is the first night that you shared the bed without facing each other. Tonight he lost his best friend, and he can't afford to lose you too. But he was stern. He still wants to make your relationship public and be engaged soon. He not forcing it but you know he wants it real bad.

If last night you fought for the first time, this morning Jaehyun didn’t feel your kisses woke him up for the first time since you two were together. That simple gesture makes Jaehyun happy first thing in the morning and now that you didn’t do it for the first time, it felt like you’re going to leave him soon.

The same argument went on for days, even you don’t know how to fix this problem but still, life goes on. Jaehyun tried having makeup sex with you but you just let him fuck you and it never fixes things. He was so desperate and he was trying so hard to bring back everything but it was not easy. All he ever wanted was to make you stay in his life. But looks like the relationship is ruined.

Finally, he realized a sad truth. Sooner or later he has to let go of you even though he loves you wholeheartedly. When Jaehyun first mentioned the breakup you were furious and mad, “I’m like this Jaehyun because I don’t know how to fix it but I never wanted to break up! But you! How dare you to even make it an option!” of course you didn’t want to break up with the man you love, being not on the same page for now in the relationship is not enough reason to just throw everything away.

“I can’t give you the life that you want Y/n, we continuously hurt each other every day I can’t hurt you furthermore. We can’t be together anymore” he was so calm and you can’t understand how does he do that.

The perfect love story you thought is now ending with tragedy. How can loving Jaehyun become so wrong? But he was right, sooner or later reality will slap you hard and the truth will not be on your side. Loving Jaehyun was something you will never regret doing, but it was wrong because he was your father’s best friend, you two can’t seem to find your way back to each other now.

As you finally agreed to the breakup, moving out of Jaehyun’s house was a fucking torture. You see to it that you get all your stuff during his working hours so he could enjoy the heartbreak that he singlehandedly decided for the both of you. It was a great relationship that deserved a peaceful breakup.

Jaehyun went home on an empty house and it broke his heart to million pieces. Pictures of you and him scattered around the house and letting go of you is life-changing for him in a bad way. Together with the happy memories that you left in his house is the necklace that he gave and every cute note he gave to you whenever he needed to leave the house before you can even wake up. It’s as if you wanted everything to stay in his house, keep everything hidden like it always has, like you and Jaehyun never happened in the first place.

Jaehyun married Yeri a year after your breakup and the news broke you. Deep inside you were still clinging to the chance of getting back with Jaehyun and turn everything around but you’re wrong. No one knew about your relationship except Johnny. That’s good. You don’t need to explain yourself to people.

As years went by, you decided to build your life with Yuta and love him fiercely without worries, without hiding, you told him about Jaehyun and he didn’t judge you not even a bit. The wedding made the news of two companies merging, and the whole country celebrated.  

Years after your wedding, you were at the record store buying lullabies for babies so you can listen to it and hope that your daughter can hear it. You’re seven months pregnant with Yuta’s baby and you’re excited to be a mother.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice called your name and you’re too scared to turn your back and face him but you don’t have a choice.

And you’re right. You haven’t seen him since the breakup and he was like a ghost to you now. He hasn’t changed a bit. After four years, you’re now in front of Jung Jaehyun with a baby on your belly and a wedding ring on your finger.