#please please please ask me more about him

[luviestarz]

park sunghoon fic recs! part 2 ✮

✮ YOU(R SHOELACES) ARE PRETTY. - @hannie-dul-set (secondhand embarrassment because sunghoon doesn't know how to to talk to cute people.)

✮ IRRESISTIBLE ⌇ PSH - @boyfhee

✮ ❛BIRTHDAY BOY!❜ ( p. sunghoon ) - @luvyeni (giving the birthday boy a few birthday wishes)

✮ Park Sunghoon || in which he’s desperate… - @lololololchips (in which he’s desperate and does everything his dream girl tweets about)

✮ 박성훈 、SECRET NEVER KEPT - @boyfhee (sunghoon likes getting detentions.)

✮ ━━━ 𑁤 close to you thought … - @uolarieclosed

✮ シ ───── 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ! - @naomiarai (in which you get high with your boyfriend.)

✮ perv!sunghoon - @urlovebot (sunghoon does your laundry so: panty sniffing.. and licking, possessiveness, exhibitionism, praise, overstim, hands free orgasm again (?), dry humping but solo (???), sunghoon creams his pants twice lmfaoooo what a loser.)

✮ fatal trouble - @gyuuberryy (your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.)

✮ 𝜗𝜚   ॱ˖ 𝐴 𝐵𝑜𝑦 𝑊ℎ𝑜’𝑠 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑 - @lovhrin (sunghoon being your jacked and kind bf based on the tiktok trend)

✮ attention, please ! - @fqirysim (𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦-- 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚��𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞; 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐛𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞.)

✮ Moonstruck — P.SH ✧.* - @cyberpunkgyu (when your boyfriend won’t stop staring at you or sunghoon falling deeply in love)

✮ professor!sunghoon - @pompvdding

✮ ( 성훈 ) — 11:59pm - @neos127

✮ （ 标题 ） BILLIARD LESSON. - @okwonyo (he is willing to do anything as long as you ask.)

✮ STRAWBERRY LOLLY - @vampjaeyun (However, one aspect that stands out on this particular day is the sugary rock between the lips he loves so much. God, Sunghoon practically busts at the sight.)

✮ lemonade - @heehoonies (sunghoon is absolutely infatuated by his step sister, and he knows his best friends, jay and jake, both want a taste. sunghoon shows them they can touch, but only with his permission.)

✮ MOONSTRUCK , ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 crazy over you - @xoamiiren (In which, sunghoon’s feelings for you start to feel like more than he can handle…)

✮ JEALOUSY - @hoonigiris

✮ traditionally nontraditional | park sunghoon - @jayparked (newly married, you and your husband love creating your own...unique traditions)

✮ ❝ DON’T WAKE DAD ❞ — ✿ 𝐏.𝐒𝐇 ׅ ㅤ֢ ㅤׄㅤ . - @chlorinecake (Sunghoon was your stepbrother, and ever since your two fractured families merged into one, he’s had feelings for you. Deep down, he knows the attraction is wrong, but the taboo of it all only made it more addicting to him…)

✮ got me looking for attention - @i2ycat (actor sunghoon who is completely and utterly infatuated with you — his celebrity crush)

✮ THE LOOK IN HIS EYES ─── P.SUNGHOON - @miumura (sunghoon is assigned with the task to accompany you at a party — however, one slight problem, you’re barely enjoying your time around him. so, as his job, he feels the need to fix that.)

✮ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎੭ ATTENTiON ! ───── ❨성훈❩ - @yeokii (sunghoon is desperate to get your attention and he'd apparently go to some lengths to get it !)

✮ grocery store receipts (sunghoon) - @paarksunghoon (your hot neighbor seems to have everything you don’t: charm, confidence, and a sense of direction in life. you’ve managed to keep to yourself in the time you’ve lived across from his apartment but the holiday season brings brings out unresolved feelings, and you find that the best present of all has always been standing right in front of you.)

✮ LITTLE BIT OF AFFECTION 박성훈 ᥫ᭡ - @pshaven (as your manager, sunghoon has to ensure all your needs are met and that you’re performing at your absolute best. but when your ex turns out to be the director of your newest project, you’re not doing your best. it’s his job to guarantee that this never happens again. (ib the manhwa, muse on fame!))

[howslemon]

Perfect Translation

IVE Rei x Male Reader

Words: 3.2k+

*Japanese

.

The forty-story glass building loomed before you, its sleek facade reflecting the morning sun. You smoothed down your suit coat, gripping your company ID like a lifeline. Your supervisor's words echoed in your mind: "Just a casual check-in with our Japanese partners." Easy for him to say, he wasn't the one navigating Tokyo without speaking the language.

The security guard accepted your ID with both hands, his expression courteous but firm. After a brief examination, he returned it with a gesture toward the waiting area. The glossy pamphlet on the side table offered little comfort. Its characters might as well have been abstract art.

"Good afternoon sir,"

The voice pulled your attention from the pamphlet. A woman stood before you, her presence commanding yet graceful. Her dark hair fell just past her shoulders, complementing the sharp lines of her business attire.

"Naoi Rei, I’ll be assisting you for today." she introduced herself, extending a hand. Her handshake was firm, professional. "Please follow me."

.

The elevator ride was quiet for the soft jazz playing overhead. You noticed how she stood, straight-backed, hands clasped before her, the very picture of corporate professionalism.

"First time in Japan sir?" she asked warmly, softening the elevator's fluorescent lighting.

"That obvious huh?"

A smile tugged at her lips. "You have that look about you. Wide-eyed, just taking everything in." She turned slightly toward you. "Tokyo can be overwhelming at first."

"Any suggestions for a newcomer?"

"I know quite a few hidden gems in the city." Her eyes met yours briefly. "Places tourists never find."

The elevator chimed, interrupting whatever was building in that moment. Rei gestured for you to follow, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. The office buzzed with quiet energy, the soft murmur of voices, the gentle hum of computers, the distant ring of phones.

Rei led you to a meeting room along the corner, where an executive in his fifties greeted you with a slight bow. His silver-streaked hair and wire-rimmed glasses gave him an air of distinguished authority.

"Welcome," he said warmly. "I trust you found us without too much trouble?"

Rei translated, voice replicating the same warmth. Was it your imagination, or did her eyes linger on yours a moment longer than necessary?

"The building was hard to miss," you replied, settling into the chair she indicated. The seating arrangement placed Rei between you and the executive, close enough that you caught the subtle scent of her perfume.

"Well, shall we discuss how the partnership has been progressing?"

Rei translated, but this time, she carried a hint of playfulness. "He wants to know how well we work together." Her emphasis on 'we' was subtle but unmistakable.

.

The conversation flowed, a dance of languages and meanings. With each translation, Rei seemed to grow bolder, a lingering glance here, a subtle shift in her chair there. Her translations remained professional, but her body language told a different story.

"How do you manage your team?" the executive asked, innocently enough.

Rei's eyes sparkled as she translated. "He's curious about how you... handle things." Her foot brushed against yours under the table, too deliberate to be accidental.

"I believe in being... hands-on when necessary," you replied, maintaining eye contact.

She turned to the executive, translating your words with perfect professionalism, but her crossed legs angled slightly more toward you. The rest of the meeting became a delicate balance, maintaining corporate decorum while an undercurrent of tension built with each exchanged glance, each "accidental" touch.

The executive seemed pleased with the discussion, checking his watch. "I believe we've covered everything now, unless you have any other questions?"

Rei's translation came with a subtle bite of her lip. "He's wrapping up. But I'm sure there's more we could... discuss."

The professional facade was cracking, replaced by something electric, dangerous, and entirely unprofessional. But as you caught her eye, you knew neither of you cared anymore. "That could be arranged,"

Rei’s eyes lingered onto yours a bit longer than necessary as she turned to the executive. "I have no other questions,"

As the executive gathered his papers, Rei translated his closing remarks with perfect professionalism, but her eyes told a different story entirely. The tension that had been building throughout the meeting was reaching its breaking point.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet today," the executive said, standing and extending his hand.

"He said thank you for the stimulating... conversation," Rei translated, her voice low enough that only you could hear the suggestion in her tone.

You shook the executive's hand, maintaining your composure despite the heat crawling up your neck. After exchanging pleasantries, Rei led you back into the hallway, her heels clicking against the polished floor with newfound purpose.

"I should show you around before you leave," she said, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, not that anyone understood it anyway. Then, leaning closer, she whispered, "There's a utility room at the end of this hallway. Nobody uses it this time of day."

Your pulse quickened as you followed Rei down the corridor, past busy offices and meeting rooms. To anyone watching, it was just the translator guiding a visitor, nothing more.

She slowed her pace as you approached a door near the end of the hall. Glancing quickly in both directions, Rei reached for the handle.

The door opened to reveal a small storage room, shelves of office supplies, a utility sink, and not much else. But neither of you were looking at the surroundings as she pulled you inside, closing the door behind you.

She locked the door. The moment it clicked, she turned to you, professionalism cracking at the edges. "So," she murmured, voice dipping lower, "let's talk about that hands-on management style."

You didn’t bother with words.

Your mouth was on hers in an instant, capturing her gasp as you pressed her against the nearest shelf. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t patient. The tension that had been building throughout the meeting snapped in an instant.

She matched your urgency, her hands already at your tie, loosening it with quick, practiced movements. Your fingers traced the buttons of her blouse, slipping one free, then another, revealing smooth skin beneath.

"I've been thinking about this since I saw you through the lobby," Rei whispered against your mouth, her fingers already working at your tie.

The confined space of the storage room amplified every breath, every rustle of clothing, every muffled sound, everything. Your hands found her waist, the smooth fabric of her blouse a stark contrast to the heat emanating from beneath.

"Someone could hear us," you murmured, even as your actions contradicted your words.

"Then we'll have to be quiet," she replied, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Her fingers moved with surprising dexterity, undoing your coat with practiced ease. "Unless you want me to translate that too? Let them know what we’re doing."

The joke broke the tension for just a moment before it rebuilt, stronger than before. Your hands found the edge of her skirt, bunching the fabric as she pressed harder against you.

"No more talking," she commanded, professional composure completely forgotten. She reached for your belt, working it open with precision.

The small room felt electric, charged with the hours of pent-up energy released in this stolen moment. Office supplies rattled on nearby shelves as you both moved against them, neither caring about maintaining order anymore.

You turned her around swiftly, hands rested on the curve of her hips, guiding her against the stacked shelf. Her breath hitched as your fingers slid up the smooth skin of her thighs, bunching her skirt higher until it barely covered her. Her palms pressed against the shelf, nails barely scratching the metal frame as she arched back, offering herself without a word. You could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, her body betraying how long she’d been waiting for this.

"You're already soaked," you murmured, running a finger along the thin strip of fabric that barely covered her. A soft, muffled gasp escaped her lips as you traced slow circles over her panties, teasing, taunting.

"Do you want me to translate how much I need you right now?" she whispered, voice thick with desire.

Instead of answering, you hooked your fingers into the waistband and tugged her panties down, letting them slide past her thighs before they dropped to her ankles. She kicked them aside without hesitation, spreading her legs wider in silent invitation.

Your fingers dipped between her folds, spreading her open, feeling how wet she was. "Fuck," you breathed, dragging your fingertips through the slickness before pressing one inside her. She clenched around you instantly, her breath catching as she bit back a moan.

"You need to be quiet," you reminded her, sliding another finger in, stretching her, curling just enough to make her shudder. "Unless you want everyone out there to know what a filthy little professional you really are."

Her head dropped forward, forehead resting against the shelf as she fought to control herself. You freed yourself, lining up at her entrance, teasing her with the head of your cock.

You gripped her hips, holding her still as you teased her entrance, rubbing against her, coating yourself in her wetness. "Tell me how badly you want it."

She turned her head slightly, eyes blazing as she met your gaze over her shoulder. "I’ve wanted it the second I saw you in that lobby," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Now stop teasing and fuck me."

A growl rumbled low in your throat as you thrust into her, burying yourself in one smooth, deep stroke. Her mouth fell open in a silent cry, fingers tightening around the edge of the shelf. You gave her a moment to adjust before pulling back and slamming into her again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the small space.

"God—" she gasped, cutting herself off, trying to suppress her moans.

You grinned, gripping a handful of her hair and pulling her head back. "Careful," you warned, your lips brushing her ear. "Wouldn't want anyone to walk in and see you like this, bent over, dripping, taking every inch like you were made for it."

Her only response was a desperate whimper, her walls tightening around you, her body pushing back against yours, seeking more. You gave it to her fast, deep, relentless. The shelf rocked against the wall with every thrust, papers slipping loose, pens scattering onto the floor, but neither of you cared.

"You're so fucking tight," you groaned, your grip on her hips bruising as you drove into her harder, faster. She was trembling now, her legs shaking, her breath uneven as she neared the edge.

"Please," she panted, barely able to get the word out. "Don’t stop."

You reached around, finding her clit, rubbing harsh, quick circles in time with your thrusts. Her whole body tensed, back arching, muscles tightening as she came hard around you, her orgasm crashing over her in silent, shaking waves, pushing your cock out of her.

You felt her soft thighs press around your length. The slick wetness from her previous orgasm made it easy for your cock to slide in and out smoothly between the soft flesh of meat, lightly brushing her still dripping folds. Each slow thrusts teasing, matched with your hand creeping up to her perfectly sized breast.

Rei let out cute little whimpers, her fingers tightening around the shelf, trying to steady herself as you plant gentle kisses along her nape. You ran your hands up her sides, tracing her ribs through the thin fabric of her blouse before gripping her waist again, controlling her movements, making sure she felt every inch of you sliding between her thighs.

Her thighs squeezed tighter, the sensation delicious as you picked up the pace, fucking into that soft, slick heat. You could feel how wet she still was, how close she was again. "Sensitive?" You murmured against her ear, dragging your lips along the curve of her neck, sucking lightly, just enough to make her jerk, but not enough pressure to leave a mark, at least not for now.

Rei shivered, nodding weakly as she bit her lip before turning her face to you. Your fingers trailed down, dipping between her legs, teasing her folds just as your cock slid past. She jerked against you, a sharp inhale escaping her lips as you circled her clit again, rubbing in time with your thrusts. Her pleading eyes stared at yours, full of hunger, desires. Warm breaths hitting you before you closed the tiny gap in between your faces, claiming her plump lips, tounges slithering together, savoring each other’s taste.

There she was again with her cute whimpers, this time, against your mouth, her body trembling against yours, breathing uneven. Lewd wet sounds of your exchanged heat echoing the small space, the universal language of sex that didn’t need any translation for anyone to understand.

You felt yourself getting close, the friction of her plush thighs, the heat of her soaked pussy just barely out of reach, driving you to the edge. You pulled back at the last second, gripping her hips with both hands as you turned her around. Rei blinked up at you, dazed, her pupils blown wide with lust. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing still ragged.

Her back hitting the shelf as you lifted one of her legs, hitching it over your arm. The new angle exposed everything, her swollen, dripping entrance, still twitching from her last orgasm, waiting, begging for you to fill her again with your cock.

You lined yourself up, teasing her entrance with the head of your cock, reveling in the way she shuddered, her fingers gripping at your shoulders for support.

"Please…" Her voice was barely a whisper, but the desperation in it made something snap inside you. You thrust into her in one hard stroke, burying yourself to the hilt. The shelves behind her hit against the wall, the remaining office supply containers dropping down the floor. You somehow felt bad for someone who’s gonna clean all this mess, the wasted sheet of papers already unusable, soaked with Rei’s cum.

You didn’t give her time to adjust this time. You set a punishing rhythm, deep, unrelenting, each thrust forcing her against the shelf, her body completely at your mercy. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she held on, breaking her with every thrust. "Too much—!"

"You can take it," you growled, gripping her chin, forcing her to look at you. Her lips trembled, breath hot and uneven as she stared up at you, pupils wide, drowning in lust. "Yes, I can—ahh!"

You slammed into her harder, watching her back arch, her body forced against the shelf. The unrelenting force of your thrusts shaking both her and the unstable storage behind her.

"Don’t stop…" she gasped, nails raking down your back through the fabric of your shirt, her legs tightening around you as you drove into her relentlessly.

You grabbed her other thigh, lifting her completely off the ground, pressing her against the cold metal shelf as you held her in place, using your strength to fuck into her at a brutal pace. She had no choice but to take it, her body fully surrendered to you, trembling, shaking, as pleasure wracked through her.

"I-I’m gonna—!"

You felt it, her walls spasming around you, body shaking, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she—

Somebody knocked, forcing you to stay absolutely still, cock still burried deep into her, painfully halting Rei’s climax. You covered her mouth, preventing any unwanted cries of pleasure to be heard by someone out there. She’s still gasping, trying to catch her breath as you slowly continue your pace.

"What did he say?" You whispered before letting go of her mouth.

"Just asking if someone’s here,"

Coast is clear, you heard footsteps walking away from the room. You stared at each other, letting out breathy laughs.

"You were so close," you murmured against her ear, feeling the way her walls still fluttered around you, desperate for the release that had been stolen from her.

"F-fuck... I hate you," Rei whispered breathlessly, forehead pressing against yours, her nails digging into your shoulders. But her body betrayed her, still shifting against you, still silently pleading for more.

You smirked, pulling back just enough to watch her face as you rolled your hips, slow and deep, pressing her further into the cold shelf. "Hate me?" Another slow, deliberate thrust. "Or hate that I stopped?"

"A bit of both," she gasped, tilting her head back as pleasure took over her again.

"You wanna cum?"

Rei nodded frantically, staring at you with lips slightly parted, already lost in it again. "Please, make me cum,"

You gripped her thighs tighter, pressing it higher against your waist as you snapped your hips forward, resuming the brutal rhythm she needed, slamming into her deep and hard. She cried out, her voice muffled against your shoulder, her nails scratching down your back.

"You wanna scream?" you taunted, breath hot against her neck. "But you can’t, can you? Not unless you want them to hear how filthy you are, getting fucked like this in a storage room."

She nodded weakly, biting her lip to keep the moans inside.

"Then cum," you growled, thrusting harder, fingers digging into her skin as you drove her over the edge. Her whole body tensed, her pussy clenching down on you, squeezing tight as she came violently, her muffled moan vibrating against your skin.

You groaned, feeling the way she milked your cock, every pulse pushing you closer, her tight, dripping heat dragging you into oblivion.

"Fuck Rei,"

You buried yourself as deep as you could, white-hot pleasure crashing over you as you came inside her, filling her completely. She whimpered, shivering as she felt it, her body still shaking, still coming down from her high as you spilled every last drop into her.

Silence settled between you, both panting, pressed against each other, sweaty, spent.

You finally dropped her legs down as you pulled back, watching your cum slowly dripping on her thighs. "Messy…" you murmured, smirking.

Rei let out a breathy laugh, legs still weak, arms wrapped lazily around your shoulders. "That was the best fuck I’ve had here."

You kissed her—slow, deep, savoring the taste of her.

"Should we clean up?" You pressed your forehead to hers, glancing around the wreckage of the storage room, office supplies scattered, papers ruined, and the unmistakable scent of sex heavy in the air.

"Should we?"

You both chuckled, fixing yourselves back into the professionals that you were before you went in that room. "You free tonight?" You ask her.

She leaned against the shelf to steady herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Tonight?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"My hotel." you replied, straightening your tie.

Rei glanced at her watch, then took out a business card. She flipped it over, writing something on the back before pressing it into your palm. Her fingers lingered against yours.

With that, she unlocked the door, checked the hallway, and slipped out, once again the perfect professional. But the card in your hand, warm from her touch, promised this was only the beginning.

••••••••••

Extended version of @mintwithchoco's prompt.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

people were often surprised to hear that, if asked, the first word you would use to describe your lover was devoted. of course, they never doubted his love for you. anyone who had merely set eyes on the man would know that he was not the type to date simply for the fun of it. it was just that they would not exactly consider him the type to be whipped, but with the way you spoke of him, it seemed their views were being flipped on their axises.

yes, maybe he was all passive glances and scoffs under his breath, narrowed eyes and the wave of a dismissive hand. maybe he was not one to spread his love to all those that gave him the chance. but what they saw as entitlement, you recognized in its true, concealed form: selectiveness in his passion, for he knew that once the receiver was chosen, it would become all consuming to the both of you.

a personified embodiment of the moon, he was. the comforting, cool light drawn from the whisper of the night, only blessing those who bothered to keep awake. his comfort was only for the ones sharing his insomnia, who basked in the reflections that came from his wrecked body. because he was filled with crevices and holes seen from lightyears away, and yet you sought him out in the sky with your eyes strained from exhaustion — let them burn as you willed them to stay open just for the sight of him. only then did he decide you were worth shining for, keeping the secret of his warmth your very own as he cradled you in the inky black of dusk. as he steered every ray to your gentle face, eyes filled with a fondness only the two of you could ever recognize.

“devoted?” they said, voices heavy with an almost offensive mass of disbelief. but they did not see the way his features melted into awe at the sight of you, the way the crease between his brows flattened to youthful flesh as the love filled in the dents. they did not know the way he would kneel, bruise his knees for you without a doubt if you so much as asked. they did not see it because they did not get the privilege of experiencing it, they did not invade within closed doors with their judgemental eyes, perceiving him as if they had the right. he knew that. you knew that. they did not. so the ghost of affection only sunk into his tired bones as he curled into you, grasping you as if you were the only thing left worth holding. to him, you absolutely were, and that knowledge proved more devotion than any man you had heard faceless strangers gush about.

suguru geto. levi ackerman. kei tsukishima. osamu miya. rintaro suna. megumi fushiguro. ryomen sukuna?. kento nanami. tobio kageyama. kiyoomi sakusa. erwin smith.

a/n: I wrote this on the toilet in five minutes and pulled the characters out of my ass please don’t hate me for this 😭😭 felt bad putting only suguru, levi, and kei so I slapped some others there.

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear Boyfriend Toji ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ᕦʕ •`ᴥ•´ʔᕤ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You've been away for three out of the five days you took off work to spend time with your family. Toji stayed behind for work, but never went a day without letting you know how much he misses you and wants you to come home already. He calls and texts plenty, and you do the same, assuring him that you'll be home soon. He's made a habit of calling you at the same time every night. Two in the morning.

One fifty-nine became two, and as if he knows it's his cue, your phone rings and Toji's contact name appears over a picture of him sleeping on the couch, bundled up in blankets.

"Toji," you say, as if you're expecting an explanation for why he's calling so late. "It's two a.m., baby. What's going on?"

"Hey, pretty girl. I was just wondering when you're coming home," he asks, his voice deep and low, fitting for what time it is.

You let out a hushed laugh on the other end of the line. "The same day, Toji. You asked me this last night and the night before. I'll be back in two days."

He groans, frustratedly. Getting days as a response is the worst thing ever for him, right now. "That's forever from now. I'm starting to go nuts over here by myself. Can't you cut it short? For me?"

"Sorry, baby. I'll be home soon, I promise. I won't be leaving your side for a while. At least not because I want to."

He sighs, the sound riddled with his loneliness. "I fucking miss you, doll. I wasn't gonna do this today, but I can't sleep for shit without you next to me. What normally doesn't bug me when you're here, irritates the hell out me, now. Like the wind shaking the windows and my own tossing and turning."

"I'm sorry, love. I feel something similar to that, too. I hear when my parents open their bedroom door to use the bathroom and one of my little cousins is still up playing videos games right now." You smile when you hear Toji yawning obnoxiously. "I miss your suffocating bear hugs. I wish you were here to put me to sleep."

"Yeah? You miss being held tightly in my arms?"

You can practically hear the smile on his face. "I do," you assure, a smile of your own spreading on your lips.

"What else do you miss about me?"

You laugh at the tone he uses to ask the question. He's expecting something dirty, but you won't be giving that to him. "I miss your handsome face. You know those green eyes are one of my greatest weaknesses when it comes to you."

"Yeah? What else about me makes you weak?"

You hum, already knowing the answer. "Your soft morning kisses... the way you draw shapes on my tummy with your fingers when I can't sleep at night."

"Fuck, I really miss doing those things, ma," he mumbles.

The line goes quiet for a second, but his signal isn't choppy and he hasn't dozed off. He's imagining the softness of your skin and the little stars and circles he would be drawing on your tummy if you were there with him. He's thinking about the hushed bouts of laughter that would ensue when your energy and playfulness comes out at the wrong time—when you're supposed to be sleeping. With a sigh, he continues his restless conversation, spurred on by his longing for you to be with him.

"Come home to me, already. Please?" He sighs, heavily. He's never felt more like a child—unable to sleep without the presence of the person who brings him the most comfort. "Sorry. I'm sounding pretty pathetic here, aren't I?" He asks, a low rumble of his chuckle caught on the line.

"No, you don't, my love. I miss you like crazy, too. It's the longest we've been apart in a while and it seems like we're both going through withdrawals," you say, unable to hold back a small laugh. "Sorry, saying it out loud sounds kinda funny. Makes it sound like we're addicts out of context."

"Well, I'm addicted to you. Miss everything about you."

"Yeah? Like what?" You ask, fully prepared to hear him slip some of his dirty thoughts into it.

"Mm... I miss the way you sleepily kiss the scar on my lips, before you fully wake up in the morning, and the way you run your fingers through my hair when I lay my head on your chest after a shit day at work. And... of course i'm missing the pretty sounds you make when I get between your thighs."

"Toji," you chide, with a giggle.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, through a chuckle. "Just really miss you, doll. Call me dramatic, already."

"No. For what? Not everyone has a partner that would act this way after being apart for only three days. I'm just lucky like that. You love me?"

"You know I do. So fucking much. I miss your body against mine. Not even trying to be a horndog, I swear. Just want your warmth and your kisses back."

"I know, baby. When I get back, we'll cozy up together and take a nice, long nap, and when we wake up, we can do anything you want. Anything, okay?"

"Yeah, alright, doll."

"It'll be okay," you promise. "You tired?"

"Yeah, I'll leave you be so you can get some rest. Just wanted to hear your voice."

"We can stay on the phone," you offer. "'Fall asleep together, if you want. Or is that stupid?" You ask, with a soft laugh.

"Nah, nah, nah, that sounds good, ma. I'd like that a lot," Toji responds, encouragingly. He sets his phone down next to his pillow and puts you on the lowest volume of speaker. Your voice is more audible, but still only meant for him to hear. "You there, doll?" He asks, once he's settled into his comfortable position.

"Yeah. Ready to go to sleep?"

"Mhm. Love you, gorgeous. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Love you, baby. Goodnight."

Toji credits you for the way he was snoring within minutes. Your presence comforted him, even if the physical aspect of it wasn't with him. He spent a couple minutes just staring at the ceiling, but as time went by, his eyelids started feeling heavier, and there was no way he was going to fight it when that was what he needed help with all along.

[moonstruckme]

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything. 

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.” 

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.” 

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.” 

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing. 

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.” 

“Didn’t James want to see that one?” 

“Think so, yeah.” 

“You should take him.” 

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.” 

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you. 

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?” 

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest. 

“I don’t think I want anything.” 

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?” 

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you. 

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?” 

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements. 

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.” 

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.” 

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.” 

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly. 

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.” 

“A delight?” you whisper. 

“Mhm.” 

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles. 

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit. 

“That’s okay.” 

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.” 

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea. 

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.” 

You hum. 

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.” 

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him. 

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.” 

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same. 

“You do lots of things for me,” you say. 

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.” 

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to. 

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?” 

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.” 

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.” 

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.

[toastedpotatoes]

"What's all this about?" asked someone behind him during a lull in his routine. Their voice carried the distinct lilt of the Folk (good) and an air of extreme exasperation (slightly less good).

Jal turned to face them, cooking implements still in his hands. "Finally—I mean, it would sure suck if—"

"I heard you the first time," said the newcomer, voice tired and dry as dead bark. "And we do understand sarcasm."

"Oh," he said. There went his plans. "Um. Take me anyway? Please?"

They stood facing him a long while, their expression reading visibly as why do I have to deal with this? even in the moonlight.

He must've got stuck with a dud or something. Weren't the Folk supposed to be... magic? Ethereal? Something greater than what amounted to little more than a sharp-eared person with lichen in their hair?

They sighed. "First of all, if you wanted us to take you, why did you bring iron?"

"Oh," Jal said for the second time. He looked down at the pots and pans. "I wanted to get your attention."

"Well, it worked. It also made an incredible racket. Put them away now."

He hesitated—he wasn't exactly eager to lay down his best defense against things like them—but this was his best chance at getting out of his life. He set them down outside the mushroom ring.

"Second," they continued, "why did you decide that the best time to do this was the middle of the night?"

This he had an answer for. "Well, you lot always dance in circles under the full moon, don't you? Figured now would be a good time."

They sighed again, muttered something about sky folk messing everything up, and said, "Not always."

Jal was getting impatient. The night was too chilly, he honestly should have been in the fey realms by now, and instead here he was getting interrogated by some house brownie. "So can you take me or not?"

"I can," they replied. "Doesn't mean I will. Why're you so eager to get abducted anyway?"

"Why's it matter?"

"It matters because I'm the one deciding if you get to go or not. And I'm being rightfully suspicious of the weirdly-excited-to-get-kidnapped human here."

He looked around for anything else he could do besides spill his life story to one of the Folk. There were still the pots and pans—if he could grab one quick enough—but they noticed him looking and their eyes flashed green in the moonlit dark and suddenly all the knots in the surrounding trees were blinking, watching, watching—

"I want a new life!" he cried, not missing how the trees snapped back to normal as soon as he spoke. "I want a fresh start! There's nothing left for me over there anyways. My home's evicted me, my friends've all left, and I can't face anyone there anymore, and—"

"You do realize that none of this necessitates banging bowls together in a mushroom circle, right?"

"They're not bowls, they're—never mind. Just—I can't stay here anymore."

They thought a moment. "Go back to bed."

"No!" He didn't even have a bed anymore. He didn't have anything left to lose. This was his only chance.

"Give me your name, and I'll take you."

Okay, maybe he had one thing left to lose.

"I'm not that dumb," he said, ignoring the highly doubtful look he received. He rifled through his pockets for—

"Thirty dollars?" he offered.

Their eyes narrowed at the bills he held out. "I don't need your money, and it wouldn't be enough anyhow."

"Thirty dollars and I don't leave all this iron in your precious forest."

They deliberated on this, periodically glaring at the lovely assortment of metal noisemakers he'd brought with him. "Fine. Deal. Pack up your clanking mess."

"Yes!" He gathered up his things and took their proffered hand, giddy enough that it was about five seconds before he realized they were leading him away from the mushroom ring, not into it.

"Wait," he said. "You said you'd take me."

"Never said where," they replied, calmly, and for a moment it felt like the trees had eyes again.

"Wait—but—where are we—"

"Relax," they said. "Just the nearest inn. You really need to go to bed." They picked a twig out of their hair. "And so do I, to be honest."

"OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!" cried the man banging pots and pans together in the middle of a mushroom circle.

[81pastrys]

Missing Mama

Summary— When Lando is left so his wife can have a girls trip he thinks it’ll be a breeze, however he was wrong.

Warnings— none

A/N— little Norris is a bit sassy in this one.

Lando knew the routine, until he didn’t. Usually he would go and do quadrant things or business things and then be home. However, when his wife wanted to have a girls trip, he took a few days off and insisted she go. When he did business he would leave before his girls got up, and return close to bedtime. Obviously home on the weekends, but those differed.

The first night would go smoothly, or so he thought, he’s done them before. Although when he went to tuck her in, she refused to even look at the bed. “I want to sleep in mamas spot.” She pouted angrily at him. Her arms crossed and stomping a foot on the ground.

“You want to sleep in my room?” He asked serious. “Acting like that?” He scoffed and walked out of her room and into the main area. She followed him out, tears now present. The day was already hard with her mum even leaving and now her daddy won’t let her sleep in his bed?

“Daddy please?” She sobbed. He looked at her. His expression was firm. She had been acting out since her mum left and he had enough, she didn’t usually act out. “Why not? Daddy please!” The little 4 year old begged, when he didn’t respond.

“You’ve been acting out.” He stated. She pulled on his pant leg now, tears still streaming down her face. He stood looking down on her with his arms crossed. He sighed when she sat back and dramatically continued on crying on the floor.

He crouched down and looked at her. She sniffled and contained her cries. “Mama lets me sleep in her bed when you’re gone.” She hiccuped from crying. His entire mood changed when he realized she wasn’t acting out on purpose, but didn’t know how to express her feelings otherwise.

“I know, sweetheart.” He said comforting her now. She was just upset at her mum leaving. He reached out his arms to hold her. “You miss mama huh?” He asked, her head on his shoulder and arms wrapped around his neck.

She nodded her head on his shoulder and then he sat her on the counter. He wiped her face off , from any stray tears. “I’m sorry daddy.” She said softly. He gave her a small smile and walked to the fridge.

“How about a warm glass of milk before bed hm?” He asked. He made them both a glass of milk before heating them up and handing her the cup. “Alright, now we’re ready for bed.” He said. They finished their milk and he walked her to his room. She tried to hide her excitement.

“You sleep there.” She pointed to her mum’s side of the bed after jumping onto his. He lightly chuckled at her. She giggled at his facial expression. He picked her up and moved her to mums side of the bed.

“Nooo you sleep there!” He joked with her. “This is my side.” He stood his ground with a sly smile. She giggled again but stayed on the side he put her on. He walked to her side and tucked her in with a kiss on her forehead.

He took a shower and changed for bed. When he returned she was asleep. He crawled in bed next to her and gave her one more kiss on her forehead before turning his lamp off and allowing sleep to claim him as well. She wiggled into his arms and he moved his arm to rest around her.

I love this one sm

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ where the salesman has to hide his true nature because he was too interested in the foreigner student living across his street.

warnings_ AGE GAP (reader in her early 20s and American), ANGST, FLUFF (soft!salesman), implied sex (very mild and bad), plot twist at the end. No proofreading yet…

notes_magnetic and switch were on replay while writing this <3 SOMEONE ANSWER MY QUESTION AT THE END!!!

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

It wasn’t a day without music.

You weren’t trying to sound cringe when you admitted you couldn’t live a day without music.

While showering, cooking, studying, painting your nails, walking to take the subway, or working in your office, you always have your EarPods or cable ones plugged into your ears.

And while that happened, you rarely looked at your surroundings. You knew you were in safe neighborhoods all the time.

After living for only a month in Namyangju in Seoul, you moved when a bright opportunity arose in a wealthier neighborhood.

The building across the street was sophisticated, futuristic, and bigger in comparison with yours; which could be considered vintage but cozier.

Hence why you didn’t know who lived there. And certainly, you were clueless about the neat man in an elegant suits and sweet smile coming out of said building each morning.

Men never approached you. Since you were a foreign woman, you were an outcast and outsider. And Korean society was not very fond of foreigners. Not that you could generalize, but it was an obvious fact.

And you weren’t looking for a boyfriend either. You had learned to enjoy the solitude after entering your twenties. With no boyfriend and few girlfriends, you would make it.

It was a very late winter, almost spring Saturday when you arrived at your favorite sushi spot near your apartment.

The place had a special roll of ahi tuna with spicy mayo, avocado, and fresh cucumber on top that you really loved.

It was slightly warm and orders were being shouted while you waited for your takeout.

It was then when you first saw him.

“A salmon sashimi order, please…” he said and you eyed him.

Tall, fit, great haircut, elegant suit. Overall, very great looking.

But you quickly turned back to your phone because there was no way a seeming bachelor like him would pay attention to you.

Plus, you weren’t looking for a boyfriend.

Plus two, that type of man would never be into you.

“Do you come here often?” you hear and you almost froze after seeing the handsome man facing you.

You were shocked.

“Sorry?” you ask just to clarify if you had actually heard him speaking English.

“I asked if you come here often…”

“Mostly every Friday or Saturday,” you say and he nods, offering you a polite smile.

“Me too. I had never seen you before”

His pronunciation was almost perfect and he had a sultry tone of voice that made you feel nervous and intrigued.

“Either you come too early or too late” You don’t want to sound like you’re flirting, you don’t think the man in front of you is interested. You decided that after being shocked. “I’m usually spent up with college and all”

“You’re a student?” you nod at him, attempting to smile for the first time.

The man in the suit smiles back and the attraction is undeniable.

“Yes, one more year and a half to graduate” Your hands were shaking but you pretended too well to not look bothered by the handsome man talking to you. “But I’m already an English teacher for kids with my associate's degree”

He didn’t know much about the occidental education, but he believed you were smart enough. At least you seemed like that.

“That’s great,” he says and you hear your order is ready.

You smile at the handsome man one last time and you are ready to leave, fully mentally set that it was only a friendly gesture to talk with a man like him.

“Care to join me for dinner?” You turn, shocked once again.

He offered a sweet smile that you couldn’t refuse.

“Where to, sir?” he smirked, pleased.

He had you right where he wanted.

“Wherever you’d like…”

Yeah, he seemed older, maybe late thirties, but he looked nice, he was approaching you, he could be single and you couldn’t miss the chance to say a neat guy like him showed interest in you.

“Sure” you finally accept and he starts leading the way.

“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have missed your vibrant clothing if I had seen you before,” he says as he keeps the door open for you to come out.

“Well, it’s not like I’m the most interesting or appealing woman, sir” he chuckles.

“If that were true, I would say there are no mirrors in your place, dear” You instantly blush, your legs feeling wobbly and a smile creeping up your face.

And you considered yourself fine, you had so much self-love. Still, you were thrilled to see how a man like him was interested in you

But he was lying. He had seen you for the first time a month ago….

…

You’re sweaty but freshly waxed.

Only you were imprudent enough to bake on a hot day. Your music was playing from your iPad charging in the kitchen when there was a knock on your door.

Your bare feet drag you across the living room and into the little reception room and when you open your door, you smile deeply.

“I brought our dinner” There is your salesman, in a dark grey suit, black tie, and dress shoes. Briefcase in one hand, takeout in the other.

“I baked cookies” you reply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Can’t miss the smell…” he had never tried American cookies before.

Things were going well, to say the least.

The salesman was actually interested in you and turned out to be great company.

It would always amaze you how two different people could fit so well, like puzzle pieces that connect to totally different things.

His polished shoes rest near the entrance beside your sequin mary janes. His blazer was hanging beside your salmon coat and his hand was rubbing soft circles around your back.

Your legs were hanging over his lap and you were laying, one arm in the armrest of your coach while you admired the man beside you.

His eyes screamed he was falling in love, he knew. There was an unspoken rule about keeping private his identity and protecting the games. But no clause stated he couldn’t have interpersonal relationships or marry.

So there he was giving doe eyes to an American woman who was younger than him.

“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you have the eyes of a sweet sociopath” Both of you burst into laughter. Him actually finding the fun in your words.

If only you knew…

“And I’d say you have the eyes of a lovely perfectionist” you huff, playfully pulling his tie out of place.

“I’m not a perfectionist” he eyes your place as you laugh, noticing all the books and trinkets you had. “I just gave you half-burned cookies”

“And you also waited in advance to wait for your college website to open your registration window”

“Registration is a vital thing, handsome” he smiles and stares deeply at you, making you feel nervous but eager to smile back.

The comfortable feeling of being with him causes you to have an epiphany.

A realization from your heart.

Your fingers trace the fabric of his dress shirt and he pays closer attention to your touch.

“Will I ever see you with some clothes that are not nice suits?” He chuckles before leaning closer, applying pressure, your thighs pushing against your stomach.

“You could see me without the suit…” your cheeks burn and he notices it, smiling at the sight. “Don’t be shy, baby”

“You make me nervous all the time” you admit, a little giggle coming out involuntary.

“Really?” He asks feigning doubt, smiling, and grasping your chin.

You roll your eyes.

“Just kiss me already” he wastes no time and quickly pulls you into his lap.

What starts as a soft but deep kiss slowly turns into a needy one. Your fingers curl into his soft hair and his hands land in your hipbones, just to start urging you to grind against him.

“Don’t make me say it” you manage to say, out of breath as he started kissing your neck. “Just know that I want it so bad”

“As you wish so…” You didn’t know how badly he wanted to tie you up and see how much he could ruin you.

His lunatic behavior is well hidden under rough but lovely touches and nibbles all across your body.

His long fingers cherished each mole, scar, and stretch mark in your figure, only making you accept how much you liked him.

You pulled a handsome man like him and it only made your ego boost.

The salesman was made for you.

…

Over the months, while being abroad, you mastered your loneliness to the point where you had started to explore the city by yourself.

Now you have a boyfriend, but he gives you a lot of independence during the week.

Three weeks ago he took you to dinner and on the way back, while passing by a park, both of you acknowledged that dating would be fine.

There weren’t a lot of things in common between you two. Your salesman was older, he liked music from his childhood years from the eighties and loved grunge music from when he was a teenager. But he mostly loved classical music. He liked traditional Korean dishes and enjoyed sitting on your little terrace to simply enjoy the view.

When it came to you, you enjoyed all types of music but mostly from your childhood in the 2000s and 2010s, music that was released nowadays and from the fifties or sixties. You always missed dishes from back home and your boyfriend urged you to show him what you liked.

He was sweet but rough. A real gentleman who never made you feel insecure or uncomfortable, purely devotion.

The relationship remained new, but you could tell it was looking too good to be true.

You asked for a smoothie with spirulina and collagen. The smurf blue painted a little bit of your tongue as you sipped your drink outside of a coffee shop.

It was sunny and a little foggy at the same time, and you were utterly relaxed that you almost gagged when someone called you.

“… y/n?” when you turned to your left, you saw your boyfriend, in another suit, briefcase, and two bags full of bread in his hands.

You chuckled and frowned confused.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, taking off your sunglasses. “And why did you got all that bread?”

He wasn’t expecting you near him that morning. In fact, he wasn’t expecting you for the rest of the day. It was on the weekends when he was attached to the hip with you.

He could play the card of an obvious and innocent boyfriend very well.

“It is my day to buy treats for the workmates” he explains with a sweet smile, you sigh, smiling and nodding.

“Ah, I see” you reply, not knowing what else to say. “I had a very short lecture”

“Are you going home now?” He asked, not really worried but wanting to make sure you were not going to the park across the street. Just where he had plans…

“I think so. Maybe I’ll go to get some new trinkets from the mall” he nodded, debating whether to get closer to you or not. He wasn’t sure making contact with you in public was correct.

It was you who walked away, only turning to say goodbye.

“Call me tonight. And be safe, dear” you say smiling while blowing him a kiss.

It touched him. He had to be very careful now that he had you. Right where he wanted to.

…

There is no steam, but it should be.

It was another Friday, no more burdens until Monday.

And you weren’t alone.

“Fuck, y/n…” you had your salesman cursing and moaning your name in the shower.

“Just a little rougher, baby” you beg, savoring the cold water running down your throat and towards your breasts.

One of his hands skillfully carried your left leg up, so your knee was brushing his ribs.

“Aww, my girl wants more?” You nod, closing your eyes to focus on not cumming yet.

And out of nowhere, between deep and rough thrusts of him, you hear him saying something.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” he says between pants, with his eyes closed and battling with how good you were taking him. “Conference outside Seoul. Just a week, baby…”

Your pleasure is paused by his words.

“Why you waited to tell me a day before you’re leaving?…” he stops fucking you.

He realizes you didn’t take well the news and it makes him feel bad. He could swear there were almost tears in your face.

“Oh, no, my blossom. Don’t be sad…” you almost tear up, pathetic. But it took you by surprise and you hated saying goodbye even if it was temporary. “I’ll call you as soon as I can”

You do not say anything. You try to disguise your discomfort with the way he is still inside you, hard and ready to be back to action.

But he already knew you too well.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell with anticipation next time” You eye him and you realize you love him.

“It’s okay. I understand”

Soon you forgot how well he went back to fucking you. Feeling so full of him, you kept tasting the way he moaned your name and kissed your chin.

But in the morning, just as you touched the cold and empty sheets, you missed him.

And as a woman, you couldn’t ignore the omen building up.

…

The first fight with your salesman wasn’t tremendous but it sure hurt.

You were utterly disappointed after not receiving a text or call from him in almost four days. You didn’t argue when he called, but it was beyond obvious that you were irritated. And it ended up in a bittersweet conversation and you hanging up abruptly.

The salesman was expecting you to yell and argue nonstop. But he was surprised by your short answers and tired tone of voice.

It made him feel bad. Like genuinely bad for worrying you.

But he couldn’t call you while being on the island. He had to wait an extra day to avoid suspicions from his boss. And now that he had a new task; to be extremely careful while being in Seoul because Seong Gi-hun was searching for him.

The salesman was stressed but as soon he heard your sweet voice, he almost felt bad.

You were his most precious thing in life.

The only thing keeping him from totally being insane. Like a magnetic pair, meant to fit despite being totally opposite.

You had such a strong hold on him that the salesman even found questioning his life decisions.

So he did a great job apologizing to you for not calling you sooner.

And a week later, he promised to take you to some thematic fancy bar in Gangnam.

He was smoking, a bad habit he had passed to you. But it was kind of a warm afternoon and he was waiting for you near the subway station.

A couple of minutes had passed when the salesman found himself out of breath after watching you arrive. Rarely does he see you in dresses, always vivid coats, shoes, and tops but never dresses.

That afternoon you had a cream satin gown, cowboy boots, and a long black coat. With red lips and sparkling eyes.

“By the way you’re looking at me… I might believe I look great” is the first thing you say, wrapping your arms around him and urging him to give you a peck. He chuckles, hugging you back.

“You also look too good, dear” his deep voice sends shivers through your spine.

He also looked too damn fine. Dress pants and a black turtleneck sweater, making him look younger and sexier-if that was even possible.

“Not too bad yourself too, honey” you compliment him and both of you start descending to the station.

You were excited because your salesman had shown you pictures of the bar, it was futuristic and you told him he had to take a lot of pictures of you in the restroom because it was all dark and it had neon lights. He rolled his eyes but assured me he would be your photographer.

By the time both of you were waiting, the salesman looked around.

Just to be careful. But to his surprise, it was more than that.

He studied the face of Seoung Gi-hun, he had only seen him once years ago. Now, it wasn’t only him the problem, but the shark loans he befriended.

A group of men looked around while seated on a bench, then texting.

“Let’s take a cab better” your boyfriend announces before grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs again. “Wait- why?”

He doesn’t say anything, you look back and see a man staring at you in the distance.

Interesting…

“Are you telling me what the hell was that?” You ask again once you are back outside, on a sidewalk.

Your boyfriend eyes you briefly before turning away to gesture for a cab to stop.

“Didn’t you see that man? In maroon shirt and disheveled hair?” He asks and you frown.

“No?” he shrugs, opening the cab door for you. “Doesn’t matter… I just didn’t like how he was staring around. Maybe it was just me being paranoid”

You chuckle.

“As if they were looking for you…” his eyes snap open, and he turns to look at you after telling the directions to the driver. But you’re looking at the passing street.

He stares too much until something clicks.

Something he had completely missed.

…

Great food, great drinks, great pictures taken, and great kisses and subtle touches in the darkness of the dance floor.

When you open your eyes, you see only your desk lamp is on, everything else is quiet and dark. You are tied in a chair.

“How fun was to play detectives?” you hear him, standing up from your couch. “You’re the detective Seong Gi-hun hired”

The fucker had made you drink more than intended.

It was a few months after completing your first semester in Seoul. You needed money and Gi-hun needed a subtle person that wouldn’t draw much attention. A foreigner was perfect. He promised to prioritize your safety and be fair.

“I accepted the deal before I had even met you”

“Since when do you know?” He asks, demanding an immediate answer.

“The day I saw you at the bakery” you admit, sighing.

He chuckles, turning his back to you.

“Too damn smart, my girl” you should be scared, but you aren’t.

“Yeah no shit” you huff, your hands opening and then clenching in distress. “Now I’ve been playing dumb for weeks. Pretending I haven’t got new clues that lead to you…”

“That’s sweet of you…” he turns back to face you.

And lifts his arm, pointing at you with a revolver.

Suddenly not so romantic.

“Gonna kill me, honey?” you smile, feigning innocence.

“I should do so, according to my boss” he presses the gun against your forehead, but you don’t flinch.

Based on stereotypes and some intersectionality, he thought it was ‘so American of you’

“Then do it” you dare him, feeling how was paying more attention to the fallen straps of your nightgown dress. “Pull the fucking trigger, handsome”

“I really should kill you” Your lips taste the metal of the gun, your salesman is a little insane.

“But I love you” he chuckles, leaning, putting both his hands in the armrest of the chair.

Inches away from you.

“I love you too” Your lips brush against his, the tension increasing.

It was so weird for him to admit he loved someone. After spending more than two decades unable to feel genuine human emotions, he was nonchalant, but deep inside, he was scared.

So he untied your hands.

“So what we’re going to do about this?”

It’s unbearable to be so close to him and not throw you against him. Your arms hugging him and pulling him closer.

“We both hush, honey” you whisper in his ear.

He kisses you, sliding an arm under your legs and the other on your back, carrying you to bed.

“As long and far as we need to” he promises and you nod, kissing him.

…

SOMEONE, PLEASE TELL ME IF GONG YOO’s CHARACTER DIED OR NOT IN THE SILENT SEA 🗣️

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

need more nanami and yapper gf!!!! Please please pleaseeeee

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ teddy’s notes: your wish is my command!!! this is based on a couple of scenarios from this post. enjoy!!

nanami looked like he had been through war.

his tie was loosened, his usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, and he carried the aura of a man who had exhausted every last ounce of patience.

he barely acknowledged you as he set his briefcase down, exhaling sharply as he shrugged off his coat.

you, of course, saw this as a perfect opportunity.

“darling,” you called from your place on the couch, voice dripping with false concern.

nanami sighed. “what.”

you turned to him with wide, sympathetic eyes. “who hurt you?”

he gave you a look. “the world.”

“tragic,” you sighed, patting the spot beside you. “come, sit. tell me all about it. i’ll be your emotional support animal.”

nanami stared at you for a long moment before slowly, exhaustedly, sinking onto the couch beside you.

he leaned his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes. “long day.”

“i knew it,” you said, crossing your arms. “i could feel the tragic main character energy radiating off you the moment you walked in.”

nanami didn’t even open his eyes. “don’t start.”

“don’t start?” you echoed, scandalized. “nanami kento, have we met?”

he sighed again, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

you saw the cracks forming.

so you leaned in, lowering your voice dramatically. “he’s struggling. he pinches the bridge of his nose, a man burdened by the weight of responsibility. his jaw tightens. his shoulders are stiff. but through it all—he remains strong.”

nanami’s eyes finally opened, just so he could give you the flattest look imaginable.

“he sighs,” you continued, undeterred, “a sound so deep, so weary, it could shake the heavens. he suffers in silence—”

“i am not suffering,” nanami interrupted, voice heavy with exhaustion.

you gasped. “oh, but you are. a tortured soul, caught in the throes of capitalism and incompetence—”

“i regret coming home.”

“no, you don’t,” you said smugly, flopping against his side.

nanami exhaled as you rested your head against his shoulder. despite his complaints, he didn’t move away.

you tilted your head up to look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “oh? what’s this? a moment of vulnerability? has the brooding sorcerer finally let down his walls?”

he shut his eyes again. “i am begging you to stop narrating my life.”

“never,” you said firmly.

nanami groaned, but there was no stopping you now.

“and yet,” you whispered dramatically, “despite all odds… despite his desperate pleas for peace… he allows the menace to stay.”

“no choice,” he muttered. “you’d just break in if I locked the door.”

“he knows me well,” you agreed. “and, deep down, perhaps… he even likes it.”

nanami huffed.

but it wasn’t his usual exhausted sigh. it was softer. lighter.

you grinned.

“oh?” you gasped. “was that—”

“no,” nanami said immediately.

“it was. it was a laugh. a chuckle, even!” you sat up, turning to face him fully. “i’ve done it. i’ve cracked the code!”

nanami opened one eye. “do you ever run out of energy?”

“nope,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “and lucky for you, i’m here to restore yours.”

before he could respond, you swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. nanami blinked up at you, looking both unimpressed and amused.

“ah,” he said dryly, hands settling on your hips. “so this is your great cure for exhaustion.”

“it’s part one,” you said, reaching up to smooth your fingers through his hair.

he hummed, closing his eyes for a brief moment as you massaged his scalp.

“and part two?” he asked, voice lower now.

you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“this,” you murmured, trailing kisses along his cheek, down to his jaw.

nanami let out a slow breath, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly.

“mm,” he hummed. “better than your usual nonsense.”

“excuse me,” you scoffed, pulling back to glare at him. “my nonsense is the reason you’re feeling better right now.”

he tilted his head, considering. “debatable.”

you gasped.

“how dare you.”

nanami smirked, tilting his head back against the couch, waiting for your inevitable response.

you narrowed your eyes, then grabbed his face with both hands and smushed his cheeks together.

“take it back,” you demanded.

he made a noise of protest, voice muffled by your hands.

“what was that? didn’t quite catch it,” you said, grinning.

nanami exhaled sharply through his nose. then, without warning, he grabbed your wrists, flipped you onto the couch, and pinned you beneath him in one smooth motion.

you blinked up at him, momentarily stunned.

“you were saying?” nanami asked, leaning down so his nose brushed yours.

“um,” you squeaked. “hello.”

his lips twitched. “hello.”

you cleared your throat, regaining your composure. “so, what i meant was—”

nanami kissed you before you could finish.

it was slow, lingering—his lips warm and steady against yours.

when he pulled back, his thumb brushed along your cheek. “thank you,” he murmured.

you blinked. “for what?”

“for making me laugh,” he admitted. “for making me feel… lighter.”

your chest ached at how soft he sounded.

so, naturally, you ruined the moment.

“so you do admit my nonsense is good for you.”

nanami sighed. “i should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“too late,” you said smugly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “now come back here and kiss me again, grumpy man.”

nanami huffed. “menace.”

but he kissed you anyway.

[whatisthisdrea]

[PLEASE] Terry Richmond [Fic]

-Y/N is conflicted about her relationship with Terry. She appreciates his gentle and protective nature, which makes her feel cherished, but she also craves a deeper, more intense side of him.-

Y/N loves Terry. Loves how gentle and caring he was, how he treated her like something delicate, something breakable. But sometimes, she didn’t want to be handled like glass. Sometimes, she wanted to see what lay beneath that controlled, protective exterior.

She had asked him once—begged him, even—to be rougher with her. To take instead of just give. But Terry only gave her a patient smile, kissed her forehead, and told her no.

So she figured she’d make him show her instead.

She knew how crazy protective he was, knew how much he hated when she went anywhere without telling him. So she tested him. Pushed him. She had snuck out with her friends tonight, leaving her phone buzzing with unread messages and missed calls.

It was past 3 a.m. now. Her phone had been vibrating nonstop for the last hour. Terry’s name flashed across the screen again. Her friend nudged her, giggling. “Girl, you need to answer that before he hunts you down.”

Y/N smirked. That was the point.

She swiped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear. "Hello?" She kept her voice sweet and innocent as if she hadn’t just ignored his calls all night.

Silence. A breath—low and measured—before a voice rumbled through the speaker.

"Babygirl… Where are you?"

The depth of his voice sent a shiver through her. He’d never spoken to her like that before. Dark. Dangerous. Controlled—but barely.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the thrill curling in her stomach. "Out with my friends," she said, feigning nonchalance.

Silence again. And then—

"Send me your location."

It wasn’t a question.

Before she could answer, the line went dead.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. That reaction was different.

Her friends widened their eyes, teasing her. “Oh, you’re going to get it,” one of them sang.

Y/N swallowed, staring at her phone. Her hands trembled—not with fear, but anticipation.

Terry was coming.

And she had no idea what would happen when he did.

Here’s the continuation, dialing up the tension, control, and dark allure.

Y/N’s phone buzzed.

Terry: I’m outside.

Her stomach twisted in anticipation.

She said goodbye to her friends, masking the nervous excitement bubbling under her skin, and stepped out into the cool night. The streetlights cast long shadows over the pavement, and there he was—leaning against the passenger door of his truck, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Terry wasn’t speaking. Just staring.

That look… it was different. It wasn’t the usual softness she was used to. No patient smile, no warm concern. Just cold, simmering intensity.

Y/N hesitated for a split second, feeling the weight of his gaze drag over her body, slow and deliberate. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs. You wanted this, she reminded herself.

Terry reached for the door handle, opening it for her. His movements were smooth, controlled—but there was something in the way he did it that sent a thrill up her spine. Not an invitation. An expectation.

She swallowed hard and slid into the passenger seat.

Terry shut the door behind her before walking around to the driver’s side. The silence in the car was thick. Heavy.

He got in, resting his hands on the wheel but making no move to start the truck.

Then, finally—

"Is this a joke to you?"

His voice was low and rough.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

And then, suddenly, his fingers were at her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His grip wasn’t painful—just firm. Unyielding. His piercing blue eyes burned into hers.

"Answer me."

Her breath hitched. "N-no, baby…"

Terry raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. " You know better than to just run off without telling me. And then ignoring my calls on top of it?"

Y/N wet her lips. She could feel the heat rolling off him, restrained but simmering beneath the surface.

"Terry, I’m a grown woman. I don’t need to be told when I’m going out."

She was testing him now, pushing her limits.

Terry let out a quiet hum. A dangerous sound.

"Mmh."

That was all he said before starting the truck.

The engine rumbled to life, filling the silence between them. The air was thick with unspoken words, crackling with tension.

If you listened close enough, you could hear Y/N’s heart pounding.

And Terry? He just kept driving. Silent. Calculating.

The drive home was silent.

Y/N stole glances at Terry, but his expression never changed—focused, unreadable. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched just enough to tell her he was still holding something back.

Her stomach churned with anticipation.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, she exhaled, reaching for the door handle, eager to escape the heavy silence. She stepped out first, making her way toward the front door. As soon as they were inside, she moved toward the stairs, ready to go up to their shared bedroom.

But before she could take a step—

"Stop."

Terry’s voice was low and firm.

Y/N froze, confused. She turned to face him, heart pounding.

"Go to the living room and sit."

There was no softness in his tone, no room for argument.

She swallowed, nodding slowly before walking to the living room. She sat on the couch, shifting slightly, her nerves dancing beneath her skin. She had no idea what was coming next, and that was what made it so thrilling.

Minutes passed. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation.

Then—footsteps. Slow. Purposeful.

Terry walked into the room, his presence alone commanding every ounce of attention she had.

He sat down beside her, finally looking at her. The usual warmth in his gaze was absent, replaced by something deeper. Darker.

Then, his voice—soft, controlled, but carrying an edge.

"Come here, baby."

He patted his lap.

Y/N grinned, relief washing over her. She crawled toward him, ready to curl up against his chest like she always did when he used that tone—

But the second she was close enough, her world flipped.

A sharp gasp left her lips as she found herself bent over his lap, her body draped over his thighs, ass in the air.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Terry ran a slow hand over the curve of her backside, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of her dress.

"You think this is funny, don’t you?" His voice was deceptively soft, his palm resting heavily on her.

Y/N shivered, her fingers curling against the couch cushions.

A sharp smack landed across Y/N’s ass, the force sending a jolt of heat through her body.

She squeaked, her hands gripping the couch cushions as Terry's palm rested heavily on her. His fingers kneaded her flesh, almost as if he were testing her, deciding just how much she could take.

"You had me so worried," he muttered, his voice rough with restrained fury. His hand smoothed over the spot he had just struck, but there was no comfort in his touch—only control.

Another slap, harder this time.

Y/N let out a broken gasp, her body jerking against his lap. Her breath hitched as the sting bloomed across her skin, mixing with something deeper, something raw.

"I thought something happened to you."

Smack.

Tears pricked at her eyes, the mixture of pain and anticipation tightening in her chest.

"And you ignored my calls?"

Smack.

Her whimper was muffled against the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric.

Terry let out a slow breath, his other hand gripping her waist, holding her still. Keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

"You think this is funny?"

Smack.

"You think I enjoy having to track you down in the middle of the night, wondering if you’re safe?"

Smack.

A choked sob escaped her lips. The stinging heat spread, tears slipping down her cheeks. But Terry didn’t stop.

He didn’t care that she was crying.

"I should’ve dragged you out of that place the second I found out where you were ."

Smack.

Her body trembled. She could barely breathe through the overwhelming sensations crashing into her—pain, submission, the weight of his dominance pressing her down.

"I don’t ever want to feel that kind of fear again, Y/N." His voice had softened just a fraction, but the steel in his tone remained.

Y/N hiccupped a sob, her tears wetting the cushion beneath her. "I—I’m sorry, baby..."

Terry hummed, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles over her skin. "No, sweetheart. You're not sorry yet."

He adjusted his grip on her waist, his presence swallowing her whole.

"But you will be."

And with that, he brought his palm down again.

Smack.

Terry’s hand came down again, hard and deliberate.

Smack.

Y/N gasped, her body jolting against his lap. Her breathing was ragged now, her fingers gripping the couch so tightly her knuckles ached.

But Terry didn’t pause.

"I called you over and over."

Smack.

"I texted. I waited."

Smack.

"Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

Smack.

Y/N let out a muffled sob, tears slipping freely down her cheeks. "I—I didn’t mean—"

Smack.

She cried out, her body trembling. But Terry was unrelenting, his large hand pressing into her lower back, keeping her in place.

"You didn’t mean to ignore me?" His voice was calm, dangerous. "You didn’t mean to scare me half to death?"

Y/N hiccupped, her legs weak, her body tingling from the relentless punishment. "I—I just wanted—"

Smack.

"You wanted my attention?"

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing over the reddened skin. "Well, baby, you’ve got it now."

Her breath stuttered as he shifted her slightly, adjusting his grip.

"I don’t like being tested, Y/N."

Another smack. Harder. Sharper.

Her body shuddered.

"I take care of you. I protect you. And this is how you repay me?"

Y/N whimpered, her tears soaking into the couch. "I—I’m sorry, baby, please—"

Terry exhaled slowly, his touch finally easing, fingers smoothing over her heated skin.

"I don't believe you "

"Get up," Terry said, his voice softer now, but still carrying the weight of his unspoken rage.

Y/N stumbled to her feet, her legs shaking slightly. The stinging warmth on her ass was a stark reminder of what she had just endured—what she had secretly hoped for. She wiped at her tears, trying to regain some semblance of composure, and met his eyes.

Terry leaned back against the couch, his legs spread wide, and his gaze never left hers. "On your knees," he demanded, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

Y/N's legs trembled as she obeyed, sinking to her knees before him. The coolness of the floor tiles sent a shiver up her spine, and she felt the heat of his eyes on her. His hand reached out, and she braced herself for the touch, for the way his hand would fist in her hair. But instead, he gently stroked the side of her face, his thumb catching a stray tear.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Y/N's eyes snapped up to meet his, her chest heaving with sobs. Terry's hand wrapped around her hair, gently but firmly, and he tugged her closer, so that their faces were mere inches apart. She felt a thrill of fear and excitement race through her as she knelt before him, his hand in her hair, his eyes searching hers.

"You go be a good girl," he said, his voice a low growl, "and suck this dick. Then maybe I'll think about forgiving you."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and arousal. This was it. The moment she had been pushing for. She hadn’t expected the sudden smack, but it had sent a jolt through her body, electrifying her senses. And now, his hand was on her jaw, squeezing just tight enough to let her know that this wasn’t a request. This was an order.

Her nod was more of a reflex than anything else, her body already responding to the dominance in his voice. The smack had stung, but it was nothing compared to the heat that surged through her when he released her face. She felt the warmth spread across her cheeks, her breath quickening in anticipation.

Without another word, Y/N leaned in, her eyes never leaving Terry’s as she took him in her mouth. His grip in her hair tightened, guiding her, showing her what he wanted. The taste of him was overwhelming, mixing with the salty tears on her lips. She felt a strange mix of fear and desire, her heart hammering in her chest.

Terry groaned, throwing his head back in sensation. The sound was like music to her ears—the sweetest reward for her disobedience. Her hands found his waist, her nails digging into his skin as she worked him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with the effort. He was so much bigger than she was used to, so heavy and thick that she had to use both hands to keep him steady.

His hips began to rock upward, matching the rhythm of her mouth. She felt his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as he gave in to the pleasure she was giving him. And she took it all in, her tongue swirling around his shaft, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make him hiss.

Y/N's eyes never left Terry's, watching the storm of emotions play out on his face. His pupils were blown, his breaths coming in ragged pants. She felt powerful in that moment, kneeling before him, holding his pleasure in her mouth. The ache between her legs grew with every gasp she pulled from him, her own arousal becoming impossible to ignore.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached down, her fingers grazing the waistband of her strapless bodysuit. With a swift, deliberate motion, she pulled it down, her ample double D breasts bouncing free. She felt exposed, vulnerable—but the power was in her control. Her thumbs circled his cock, coating it with her saliva, before she wrapped her breasts around his shaft, creating a warm, tight channel.

Terry's eyes darkened as she began to squeeze, her breasts molding around his length. His grip tightened in her hair, guiding her movements, his hips pushing upward in a silent demand. The sight of him, lost in pleasure, his face contorted with need, was intoxicating. She leaned in, taking the tip of his cock between her teeth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. His groan was guttural, deep, and it sent a shiver of desire through her core.

Y/N could feel his cock thicken in her mouth, could feel the tension building in his body. She knew he was close—so close. And she wanted it. Wanted him to lose control in a way she had never seen before. She sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing, her eyes locked on his. The taste of him was addictive, the power in the moment overwhelming.

And then—it happened. Terry’s grip tightened, his body went rigid, and he came. Hot ropes of cum shot into her mouth, and she swallowed, the taste salty and bitter. He was still for a moment, his breath coming in harsh pants, before he pulled her head back, the rest of his release painting her face, her breasts.

"Good fucking girl," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He caught his breath, his eyes never leaving hers, then reached over and grabbed the back of her neck. His grip was firm, possessive, and Y/N felt a thrill of submission shoot through her as he forced her mouth back down on his still-hard cock.

The taste of him filled her mouth again, and she took him eagerly, her tongue swirling around the tip, cleaning up the mess she had made. Terry's grip tightened, his hips bucking slightly. His hand slid down to the back of her head, guiding her movements as he pushed himself deeper into her throat. Y/N gagged, her eyes watering, but she didn't pull away. This was what she wanted—what she had been craving.

"I'm finna fuck that pretty little throat up, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

Note: I need the weekend to come so I can cum

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. ����

"Things aren't too bad. Not since I got my ass kicked," Vaughn chortles. "Mighta knocked some sense into this thick skull at last."

"Hopefully," you agree. "Mom said--"

"I tried calling. She didn't pick up."

"Oh..."

"Why-- Why should I even bother?" His humour fades to hostility, "and why are you acting like you're my mother? When she does answer, she just calls me a fuck up. Like I don't fucking know."

"Vaughn," you hum, "please, I'm not trying to piss you off."

"But you are," he snarls. "Always gotta ruin a good time, don't ya?"

You frown. This is the Vaughn you don't know. The one with the anger like a grenade pin. One tug and it's over. You sit back and wait. Arguing only fuels the flames.

"You're the one person who's s'posed to believe in me and you're nagging me about mom," he snarls.

You look away guiltily. You wonder how he'd react if you told him about Steve. If you mentioned that the reason things 'aren't too bad' is because you did something just as stupid as him. Somehow, you don't think that him knowing you do dumb stuff too will help.

He tugs at his cuffs. The guards come forward. You say his name again.

"Vaughn, please--"

"Piss off! Yeah, you meat head, get me outta here," he turns his wrath on the guard. "Waste of my time."

"Please, I didn't-- I just--"

"I told you not to talk about it no more," he barks. He did. You didn't listen.

Your eyes well. You don't know what happened to him. Where did all this anger come from? As you watch the guards unhook him and he stomps away, you can only think you may have made a good decision talking to Steve. At least there's someone in there who can help. Or try to.

You wiggle your nose and dab your eyes with your knuckle. That was embarrassing as much as it was scary. The guard on the other side returns.

"We'll bring the next early, miss."

"Thanks," you nod. You recognise him. You realise most of the guards must know your face too. It's so strange to think this is a normal part of your life now. That this has become your social life as late.

It isn't long before Steve appears. He sits calmly lets himself be leashed. He leans forward and takes the receiver. You still have yours in hand but it's against the table. You lift it.

"Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He purrs.

Your cheeks draw tight, "how are you?"

"Mm," he narrows his eyes as he looks you over. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Steve," you swallow the dregs of your tears. "Really. It was an early morning."

He stares a little longer, the lines deepening in his forehead. His eyes meet yours. His aquamarine irises are speckled with gold and silver. He takes a breath and tuts.

"You were crying."

"No, Steve, it's nothing."

"That brat brother of yours," he nods as his expression turns dangerous.

"Please, Steve, not you too. Okay? It's... a sibling spat. That's all," you assure him. You wish you were as transparent as the window between you.

"I don't like that. I had family coming to see me, I'd be nice," he snarls.

"It's not your problem."

"That's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You made it my problem when you started coming around." He insists.

You chew your lip, "I know..."

"I'm not complaining, so you know," he leans back. "Kinda used to ya now."

"Thanks," you utter grimly and stare at the desk.

"Hey," he says and your eyes flick back up. "I didn't drag myself out here to see you mope."

You swallow and push away the rest of your chagrin, "sorry, I... better?"

"How can that face get any better?" He winks. You squirm.

He's been more forward lately. You assure yourself that it's just him playing with you. He's bored and you're the only person he talks to that isn't a guard or an inmate.

"That's... Right. Um, I guess it was dumb to ask how it's going," you scoff at yourself.

"It's going good, now I'm here," he runs his hand over his mouth, feeling his cheeks, "fresh shave this morning. Looking good, huh?"

You let your eyes focus. You can tell. His chiseled jaw is bare, not one speck of stubble. And his blond hair is parted and combed back. It's getting a bit long.

"You look refreshed."

"Well, I got something coming up later today."

"Another visitor?" You wonder.

"Lawyer," he shrugs. "No big thing. I got business on the outside still. Power of attorney or whatever."

"Mm," you hum.

"Boring stuff. What about you? Besides that idiot you call a brother, how's life?"

"It's life," you say. "Go to work, come home, sleep, it's all the same."

"Huh, sounds like being in here," he snorts. "Lonely?"

You don't realise at first, he's asking.

"I guess. Thought about getting a cat."

"Ah, you're young. Probably wait a few years before that," he chirps.

You tilt your head wryly, "no harm starting early."

"You're funny, sweetheart."

"Am I?" You wonder dryly.

"Well, the things they think are funny in here..." he makes a face. "You know, I wouldn't tell a lady all that, but it's low brow."

"Right."

"I'm still trying to figure you out, you know? Your brother, well, not to pile on top but he's not exactly a model citizen, but you, you're practical, considerate, you make stuffed chicken and pesto. I can't help but wonder how you're not adopted," he snickers.

"Life is strange."

"Isn't it? Never saw some girl knocking on my cell door but here we are," he drawls.

"Here we are," you agree. He smiles and bites his thumb. You shift as his eyes sparkle.

"I might never get outta of this place, but at least I can see a pretty face now and again," he growls.

Yep, at least he'll never get out. You just need to hope Vaughn doesn't get any time added and it will all be over soon. 

⛓️‍💥

It's the first night Steve doesn't call. You're a bit disturbed by how it seems to throw the whole evening off. It's not like you're friends. He's an obligation. You should be happy to have one less thing on your plate.

You take a long bath, your phone on the back of the toilet, the ringer set to chirp. But it doesn't. The soak isn't enough to ease your nerves.

If something happened to him, what about Vaughn? It's a selfish worry but you can't help it. How could that even happen? Steve has this invincibility about him. You just can't believe it.

You get out and dry yourself off slowly. You're achy from sitting on your ass all day. Admin work isn't very thrilling. You stretch and rub the cushion of your bottom, the muscles easing beneath the layer of padding. You've always had a bit extra. It never bothered you as much as it bothers men. Your brother used to beat up any guy he heard hurling insults at you.

It's not your biggest care in the world. You tend to eat those away. Your sweet tooth hardly helps.

You put on a night shirt and lay awake for a while. Even when you do sleep, it's not peaceful. You dream of iron bars and blood on the floor. You wake with a thumping in your temples.

You dress for work. Your stretch-waist grey pants and the silk blouse with roses on the collar. You pack your lunch and brew your coffee, honey and a dash of almond milk splashed in. You leave with your bag and thermos.

The traffic around the clinic is always clogged. You get in with two minutes to spare. You sit behind the window and the phone rings as soon as opening hour strikes. You're swept up in the demands of patients and doctors alike. One thing you can't complain for how quickly the days fly.

You eat your lunch in your car. You cherish the moments you're not surrounded by sniffling, coughing, and complaining. You head back in and finish the last half, yawning at the monitor.

It's even busier when you pull out into the street. You let the music flow into your ears and distract you. You tap the pedal as you slog along. Finally, you get to a side street and cut a zig zag across town. You pull up to your building and linger in your car.

You have this eerie feeling. You glance over at the unfamiliar car parked facing the brick. The sleek white muscle car is vintage and polished to a shine. Someone loves that thing.

You get out of your dusty Honda and snatch your bag from the passenger's seat. You tap your fob and enter through the side. You stop before the elevator and turn back. You should at least try to get a few steps in. You take the stairs.

You stare at your pointed flats as you drag your soles over the carpet. You smother a yawn behind your hand. A throat clears. You move over, thinking someone's coming your way. You stir in your bag for your keys. Your name brings your chin up.

You gasp and drop your keys. You teeter as you nearly spin and sprint away. Your bag slips and you barely catch the strap. You gape at Steve as he stands beside your door.

Silence wafts around you with the smell of cooking and laundry. He holds a bouquet of classic red roses. He sports a tailored suit in black that puts his prison uniform to shame. The collar is crisp and the tie perfectly knotted. His jawline is shaved and his hair is styled down to the strand.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets with a smirk.

You wordlessly bend to pick up your keys then stand and fix your bag on your shoulder. Your eyes glaze in disbelief and horror. A million questions flurry to a storm of terror.

"How..."

"Appeal went through. They turned over my conviction," he struts away from the wall. "These are for you, sweetheart."

You look at the petals then at him as he comes close. Your shoulders sag as you shrink down at the breadth of his shadow. He's even bigger like that. You shudder, the lack of barrier unsettling.

"I got you speechless," he intones and grabs the strap of your bag. "Look like you had a long day, let me take a load off."

He takes your bag then guides your hand to the bouquet. You close your mouth and gulp. He sweeps away your keys and hooks his arm through yours. You let him lead you to the door of your apartment. He swings it open and you flinch.

"Wait, Steve, how did you-- how do you know where I live?" You quaver.

"Told you, I got friends on the outside. You don't think I'd leave you unprotected--"

"Wait, wait," you plead as you face him, untangling your arm from his. "How is this real? How are you here? How- Why-- You don't think--"

"I think I spent months talking to you and you spent the same time coming to me. It's not what I think, it's what I know," he insists. You choke.

If his conviction was flipped, maybe that means he isn't so bad. No, no, you heard of what he did in there. He's dangerous. Whether he did what the court said he didn't or not.

He waves you in, "come on, we can take it slow. We'll talk, like old times."

You shake your head but enter. You see no other choice. You're too stunned to think of any.

He follows and pulls the key free of the door before shutting it. He hangs them on the little hook beside the frame. He faces you as you focus on slipping off your flats. He puts your bag on the top of the small shelf where you store your mitts and whatnot.

He whistles, "you look... good. I mean, I never got the full angle." He steps back and you feel him raking you with his eyes. "Got a nice shape..."

"Steve," you snap and face him. "I... I never..." you pace yourself and take a breath. "The flowers are lovely, thank you. And I appreciate you coming by but I think there's a bit of a miscommunication." You turn and slowly inch away. You spin around as he watches you, his expression betraying nothing. "I only talked to you to keep Vaughn safe."

He sighs and his eyes narrow. His brows tilt slightly and his jaw squares. He nods and smooths the front of his jacket.

"Well, sweetheart, I went and got a new suit for you."

"I'm sorry--"

"No, get this," he strides forward and stops before you. "Whether it was for me, for you, or for that scum you call a brother, it happened and it's not over. You got me? I might be out but I got men inside. Men who are willing to do a lot worse than me," he snarls.

You shudder and he grabs your chin. You whimper. "I wanna be nice to you, sweetheart. That's all I've been dreaming of. I went out, got all dressed up, got you flowers, now you do me a favour, go put a dress on so I can take you out for dinner." He sniffs and squeezes just until your jaw throbs, "see, I'm still doing stuff for you. I'm not asking much except you to come out and look pretty."

He lets go and you stagger back. You sniffle and quickly hide your face. Your voice comes out hoarse, "I'll put these in water first."

Your heart races and you go into the kitchen. You find a vase and focus on filling it. You put the flowers in and toss the paper cone. He looms in the doorway.

"I'll find something to put on, okay?" Your voice cracks.

You cross the kitchen and he stays firmly in your path. He brings his knuckle up under your chin and forces your face up.

"Smile, sweetheart," he growls. "We're together. At last."

[isaisliterallyhim]

heyyyy love your fics <333

can you do sugar daddy Kaiser who's always been rude and rough with reader but one day when he realises he's falling in love with them he's really gentle, asking how they feel and praising them? if possible can you do fluff along with nsfw???

ahh hii anon!! thank uu i appreciate ur words <33 anywayss i love the plot ohh gosh ygs r so creative omg

"And all I wanna do is stay with HER"

ft. michael kaiser . sugar daddy! kaiser . ooc! kaiser lol... . ness is in the story omg! . is ness ooc! too... . yes ness is ooc asw . character development.? . eventual smut . sex gulp... . piv ! . afab! reader . mistreated! reader ... . fluff asw . unreliable narrator

wc: 1.0k

"she's annoying." kaiser grumbled, taking a sip of wine. ness looked at him, "[name] cares about you that's why." the magician tried to lighten the mood. clearly, it didn't work.

"she just wants fucking money." he retorted. ness frowned, "can't you look at it in a positive way.? at least she's trying. take a look at all the others you've had."

that sentence had kaiser reflecting for a bit. "huh. i suppose you have a point for once, ness." the prodigy felt himself get a little flushed. "you're treating her so rough, how often does she even ask for money.?" ness continued. "don't be so harsh man! she's trying..."

the emperor tsked. "if she's so 'perfect' you take her then." he grumbled. jeez this guy is really helpless man... ness looked at kaiser disgusted for the first time.

"keep acting like that and she's bound to become who you think she really is." ness thought as he picked himself up and left kaiser to his thoughts.

later within the night, kaiser found himself scrolling through your photos after sending you some money (oh need that.) it hit him you were gorgeous. pretty face with a kind heart.. he was going to go insane.

the more he scrolled the more he admired your beauty. you radiated an aura that he just couldn't place his finger on. perfection was a word too vague to describe it.

shaking his head, he set his phone down. hands on his head, he was wondering. what the literal hell was he doing.? all he's ever done was treat you like shit because he had such horrendous experiences with others.

i mean, you were like the others. you were just there for the money... and attention i guess. but there was something more to it. he was just to blind to see it. (tf r ur glasses for mihya bro.)

it was late — hella late. 2:32 A.M.? there's no way you'd come over right? so what the heck were you doing at his door in a matter of moments?

kaiser opened his door, surprised. "you — you actually came?" he asked, somewhat in disbelief. "i'm right here aren't i, dumbass.. plus you called." you shrugged.

the satin on the bed somewhat wrinkled as the both of you sat down. "um, so why'd you want me to come ove-" you were quickly interrupted by an apology. "[name], liebling. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for my behaviour, how i treated you. scheiße, i'm so fuckin' sorry."

he held your visibly smaller and softer hands. his hands feeling quite the opposite. you were kinda a dumbass, "wha — michael huh...?" you shook your head giggling, "what are you apologizing for?"

his gorgeous blue eyes stared into yours. "don't act coy with me, [name]. you don't need to forgive me. i'll do whatever for your forgiveness. please. do you want more money? gifts.? flowers..? wha.. god. what do you want?!" kaiser asked desperately.

you looked at him with a deadpan expression. god, has this man ever been treated alright.? "mihya, i don't really want anything. yea i mean i love money i mean — who doesn't love money. but i'm not here solely because of money." you sighed.

"yes, you have money is definitely a positive trait but, you have more to it. money isn't the only thing that makes you lovable." you continued to ramble. his hands released yours. you were caught in his embrace.

"mihya.?" you whispered. kaiser knew how scary it was to love someone. the amount of devotion you must give. the time and effort. one wrong move? it could all crumble.

his embrace got tighter, you were tensing a little bit up. was he gonna beat you like what the heck is goin' on?! he knew you were always running away from love, 'cause your daddy never gave you enough :((

hey, same for him as well, no? "meine liebe." kaiser breathed, "let's try again together. i'm done with the 'you deserve better' bullshit. i have the choice to be better and i'm taking it."

he loosened his embrace on you, hands on your shoulders. you met his gaze. all it could scream was blue of desperation. not going to even lie, most dedication you've seen in your whole life.

you were still skeptical — hell, i can't blame you! you've been mistreated all the time by partners, getting taken advantage of... what change is this rich and attractive man going to do? he has the money, the women ugh... thinking about it made your head hurt.

"what do you say, liebling. let me show you.?" he leaned in, mumbling into your ear. hah! as if you'd believe what he said and give him a chance.

kaiser would be lying if he said he didn't regret making up with you earlier. he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you. hell! every bit of fiber within him missed you! his lips on yours, oh gosh. he's going crazy. :c

a little while after what was supposed to be a sweet make out, he found himself aligning his tip to your slit. you had glossy eyes as you stared back up at him. he had you pinned onto the bed...

"are you sure?" he asked stroking your stomach, his hands then tracing your curves. "fuu-uck. you're perfect." he mumbled. you nodded in response.

as he buried his length into your warmth he swore he got sent to heaven. "sh-shit.. scheißescheißescheiße...! please you're made for me..." he continued, his lips once more pressed onto yours.

nah, at this point his cock was stretching your opening... it hurt. kaiser broke off the kiss as he groaned, "you take me so damn well.. i'm sorry for being so horrid to you."

you were practically crying, was it cause the sex was good? cause of kaiser? you didn't know! "m-hya.." you sobbed out so sweetly. it was kaiser's last straw.

your walls were sucking his member in man..! how could he not..? your noises could kill him oh gosh! one last thrust and his length was kissing your womb :c "i'm sorry meine liebe, i-" the emperor didn't even get to finish his sentence as he finished in you <3

he pulled out just to push his fingers back in. admiring your form and expression. maaaan, kaiser couldn't ask for a better girl >< dawn came, so did kaiser, 'cept he n you came multiple times :3 kaiser could make it better. all he needed was just one more day with ya.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n: hey guys.. hey anon.. guess who's finally back heh... my writers block actually fried me so bad its diabolical man.. yes i lost motivation half way along w the plot tbf i had this in my drafts for 2 weeks or smth... i'm so sorry if this wasn't what y'all wanted ill cook for the future ones ;-; not proofread btw good GAWDDDD if kaiser was my sugar daddy man.. money and hes hot YES PLSS (no im nawt shallow but tuition fees are booty bro yall cant blame me.) yes this is all yap ALL MY NOTES ARE YAP OK </3 but um.. yay ilygs a lot mwa mwa <3

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ better than me, huh? . . . c.s

in which . . . chris makes you admit and shows you that he’s the only one who can make you feel good.

warnings . . . smutttt, fwb!chris, use of pet names, fingering, oral, (fem!recieving) kissing, degradation, teasing, dom!chris.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

★ chris’s lips crashed against yours abruptly, with desperation, with need. he hovered over you as you laid on your back, the two of you passionately making out on his own bed. chris’s lips muffled your soft whines and moans. “tell me bout’ them other guys, mama.” chris murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. his grip on your waist tightened, almost painfully. the kiss was anything but gentle, it was as if he was trying to claim you again.

“tell me, what did they do to you? what did they do that i can’t, hm?” chris teased, his hands roaming your body as his lips began trailing down your body. you just wanted to piss him off for fun. “they were better than you.” you spoke, your voice defiant but also a tiny bit shaky. you saw a flash of jealousy, and even anger in chris’s blue eyes. “oh yeah? better than me, huh? what was so good about hookin’ up with other guys? what’d they do?” chris’s hand palmed your drenched panties, making you squirm with need.

you and chris didn’t have an established relationship, you were just friends who…fucked on the side, and kept everything on the low. you went out to parties, getting with other guys to help you try and forget about chris, to help you get over him and move on. but nothing fucking worked, of course. no one made you feel the way chris did. he knew all your sensitive parts, where and how to touch you, what really turned you on. no one else could do that but chris. and right now, he needed to prove that to you.

“they—mmmh—“ you couldn’t even answer because of how much he was absolutely teasing you, it was tearing you apart. but fuck, he felt so good. you needed him so badly, you just refused to admit that to him. “mm..you ain’t answerin’ me mama.” chris whispered darkly, slowly peeling your laced panties off of you. chris’s thumb pressed against your aroused clit, rubbing tight circles. you moaned in response, a gasp escaping your parted lips. “did they touch you like this, hm?” chris teased, sliding a finger between your folds, his finger playing with your wetness.

“look at you.” chris scoffed. “already so worked up? it’s embarrassing, really.” chris rolled his eyes, sliding another finger into you and beginning to pump both of them in and out of you, his hand immediately went over to your mouth as your moans became louder, more desperate. “y’gonna stop lyin’ to me yet? or am i gonna have to shut you up myself, hm?” chris pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean with a loud pop in his mouth. he parted your legs again as you attempted to close them. “fuck…i’m not lying!” you said as chris removed his hand from your mouth.

“yeah? bet you were thinkin’ bout me when those other stupid guys fucked ya, bet you almost moaned my name, didn’t you mama?” chris’s eyes were filled with desire, and his voice was soft with mockery. you couldn’t even admit it, because you knew he was right, you were thinking about him the entire time, it was hard to forget about him. “p—please..” you moaned in desperation. suddenly, chris leaned down, his head in between your legs as his tongue flicked on your clit. you gasped, hearing chris’s muffled voice in between your thighs.

“please what ma? you gonna admit this pussy is mine? that i’m the only one that can make you feel this good? I ain’t givin’ you what you want until you admit it. i got ways to make you talk.” chris kissed your inner thighs, still teasing you. he really wasn’t gonna let you behavior slide. “tell me, cmon…who’s pussy is this?” chris taunted, kissing your swollen clit, making your breath hitch. “y—yours..all yours..” you spoke shakily, chris smirking with satisfaction as you confessed this.

chris flipped you over in one effortless motion, your ass was facing toward him, your head burying in the pillow as he fiddled with his belt, removing his boxers to expose his hard length. his hand went onto your lower back, causing you to arch as he lined his cock up with your entrance. with absolutely no warning, chris slammed into you mercilessly, his hand coming up to the back of your head, pushing it down into the pillos, but not too hard, just to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“mmm, you like that huh? naughty fuckin’ girl…thinkin’ you can go around…messin’ with other guys to try and forget about me? it’s jus’ not possible.” chris thrusted into you, each time going deeper and deeper. “shit—oh my god… chris..” you moaned, turning your head to the side so your face wasn’t directly in the pillow. “yeah? close?” chris asked, knowing damn well you were falling apart. “mhmm..” you whined in response. chris groaned, your pussy felt so fucking good around him, he could do this forever.

“chris…gonna cum…” your mouth remained slightly ajar, chris continued pounding into you, feeling himself getting close as well. “cum f’me love.” chris whispered, leaning down to kiss your lower back. you immediately released upon those words, triggering chris’s release as well. chris pulled out of you, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your back again, looking down at your fucked out expression as he kneeled in between your legs.

“s’pretty like this..” chris mumbled, his hands going on either sides of your head on the sheets trapping you in as his lips delicately pressed against yours once more, silencing your soft whines. his tongue slid into your mouth as your hand tangled up into his hair, trying to taste every bit of him, chris’s hips slightly grinded against you as the both of you made out. chris had to make sure you knew that he was all yours, and you were all his

and chris was absolutely right, no one could make you fall apart the way he did.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

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[kissylec]

TO THE PLACES WE'VE BEEN AND THE NIGHTS WE'VE HAD.

directed by love you goodbye...

pairing . . . rafe cameon x pogue!reader in which . . . the bonfire always has surprises, but you never thought that one of those surprises would be ending up in tannyhill with the kook prince warning .ᐟ . . . (18+) smut, alcohol consumption, curse words, enemies to lovers, tension, dirty talk, praise kink, making out, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it up), p in v, first time writing smut and english is not my first language, so please, bear with me w count . . . 1.5k (NO PROOFREAD) kissylec says . . . write this in 3 days and i dont really know if i like it or not. my frist time writing smut! im tweaking! thanks to @rafesheaven for the tips you gave me, i hope this is okay i love u. and thanks to @rafeysbabydoll for the idea of this first extra! i also love u. hope you guys like this 😭

masterlist .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚 navigation .ᐟ

YOU WERE DOING THIS FOR JJ, and you repeated that to yourself over and over again. the bonfire was the last thing on your mind after the day you'd had, having to put on makeup and get dressed made your head hurt and your feet felt tired just walking to the vanity. but everything went to shit in a short time, which you expected, but at least you had that slight glimmer of hope that it won't happen.

it all started when topper – because of course it was topper – started bothering sarah. your and your friends' irritation was instantly aired, creating a tense atmosphere that was not lost on anyone. and between john b complaining, jj trying to fight, and kiara trying to calm down everyone who came near, you couldn't take it anymore.

the overstimulation ate away at you to the point that you left without warning, a habit that was ingrained in you. the sound of voices grew farther away with each step you took, and the cold and salty breeze became more and more present. that's when you thought about the beach, and that maybe it would be a good idea to stop by there.

the sand on your feet felt colder than usual and the wind was a caress on your exposed skin. you took long, deep breaths, making circles in the palm of your left hand as you tried to maintain a calm that you were afraid would slip away. the sound of the sea was in the background, and a relaxation alien to you had found you. until.

you okay?

the thick, familiar voice startles you, causing you to bring a hand to your chest and open your eyes, your gaze traveling to the direction the voice came from.

rafe cameron.

"you scared the shit outta me," you say, your gaze traveling all over rafe's body. a bottle of alcohol in his hand, his brow furrowed. His curtain bangs were gone, replaced by a neat buzz cut, which made him look more... mature, older.

rafe continues to scowl, looking away from you. "yeah well, it's creepier when a girl stands next to you and closes her eyes and all that shit you were doing just now." his lips take a sip from what appears to be a bottle of whiskey, his eyes fixed on the water.

you just rolled your eyes, mimicking his action of looking away. you never gave rafe much importance, but your annoyance for him was no small thing. he was nothing sacred among pogues, as if his name were a curse. "i may be creepy but you're sad" you started saying. "drinking by yourself on the beach? not really a very fun activity."

rafe takes another long sip from the bottle, his muscles flexing as he raises his arm. “shouldn’t you be there?” he asks, still not looking at you.

rafe knew about you, not much, but he knew enough. he always insisted that you stood out from any friend sarah might have had, you were not overlooked, you always left a mark. you had that something that takes a person a while to figure out. you were different, and it sounds corny and repetitive, but you were, and rafe liked that.

for a split second you considered telling him why you left the bonfire, but you didn't. "i got bored," you said simply, feeling rafe turn his head and his eyes burn into your cheek. "what's your excuse?"

rafe swore his heart stopped for a second when you turned your head to make your first eye contact of the night, his lips felt dry but he didn't have the balls to lick them in front of you.

he just shrugged. "i don't want to be there" he says.

you slowly nod your head, your eyes locked on rafe's blue ones, who didn't seem to want to take his eyes off you. the sound of clothes rustling and him handing you the bottle of whiskey caught your attention, raising your eyebrows.

parting your lips you take the bottle, the contact with rafe’s fingers leaving a rough feeling on your skin. still looking into his eyes, you took an unexpectedly long sip, your throat burning instantly, making you grimace in disgust and drop the bottle. he couldn’t help but laugh.

“what was that?” he asks, following with his gaze as you spit the amber liquid into the sand.

“that shit is disgusting” you say, wiping your chin, which had dropped drops of the drink.

you shake your head, your eyes falling on his face. you allow yourself to analyze the small details, how his eyes close when he smiles, the occasional mark on his skin, his hand wrapped around most of the bottle as soon as you handed it back to him.

rafe parts his lips, you could see his eyes drop to his lap, as if he was hesitant. “i have more bottles in tannyhill, of… other things,” he says, hesitantly. "if you want."

your eyes widened, letting out a laugh you couldn’t control. “are you serious?” you said, your smile taken as mockery by rafe.

rafe frowns, his gaze going to you, making you erase your smile. a tension began to be felt between you two, that tension which anyone who was there could feel, that tension that makes your stomach hurt and your heart race.

"did you really just ask me what you just ask me?" you asked, your eyebrows raising as you looked at him.

“what’s wrong with what i said?” rafe asks, his tone of voice harsher than he intended.

you frown, careful not to fumble with your words. “no, absolutely not.”

“why not?"

“because it’s you,” you simply reply, looking at him. “and i would never do anything with you.”

your words seemed to trigger something in rafe, who raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, as if he were studying you. you felt your pulse quicken, his jaw suddenly looked attractive, and his challenging eyes made your lower stomach feel warm.

"never, huh?"

those were the last words you could remember coming out of his mouth, because all you were focused right now, was him. on his tongue expertly moving between your wet folds, on how he flicked it against your clit. his fingers gripped your thighs to keep you from moving, the pressure was so strong that you knew there would be marks, but you didn't care.

you had tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes, your o-shaped lips letting out moan after moan, babbling every now and then as you felt his tongue fucking you as if it were the only thing he was useful for.

"prettiest cunt" he grunts against your center, placing open-mouthed kisses over your clit.

"fuck–rafe" was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

you start to rub your pussy against him when you feel close, that delicious pressure in your pelvis growing as does the burning in your clit, your moans turning into soft cries, desperate to cum, and rafe notices it, but that wasn't going to happen.

his mouth leaving you, automatically going to the level of your face. his lips, chin and nose glistening with your arousal, his pupils dilated with pleasure, his breathing accelerated, all so sexy that you could have cum just from him.

before you could even protest he crashed your lips against his, moaning as you tasted yourself. your tongues danced deliciously, making everything more disgusting.

"wan' you to cum on my cock" rafe manages to say between kisses, and you never wondered when he took off his pants, but he did. "you're capable of doing that? huh?"

he wrapped his hand around his heavy cock, pumping it slowly, guiding his tip to your puffy and achy clit, teasing it, coating his length with your slick. "fuck–could you be any more fucking wet?"

the tip traveled to your center, gasping as it entered inch by inch to the brim, forcing you to take him all. your eyes rolled back in your head, feeling his cock caress your insides. you could swear you felt him kiss your cervix.

"so tight, all f'me, isn't that right?" rafe purrs against your ear, his hips moving almost instantly after filling you.

your brain blanked out, letting him handle you as he pleased, your legs on his shoulders as his pace quickened. “rafe,” you stammered, your eyes squeezing shut.

"grippin' me so tight, you gonna cum?" rafe murmurs condescendingly. "this sweet pussy gonna cum? huh?"

it was ridiculous, almost pathetic, but his words and the way your sweet spot was hit over and over again had you cumming on his cock, your back arching and a small cry came out. rafe groans, his face hiding in your neck, his cock twitching and painting your insides with his cum.

you felt kisses on your neck, the thrusts fading in rhythm, his hands caressing your sides. your eyes slowly opened, your lips dry as the light from the nightstand made its presence felt beside you.

then, and just then, it clicked.

"we can't do this again" was the first thing that left your lips.

but rafe had already taken you over. and there was no escape from that.

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[niwaart]

See what I can do.

<Part1> <part2> <part3>

Spoiled idiot Bruce Wayne decided to adopt another child and Jason had only been dead for a few weeks... And what did Y/N do? She burned every Robin suit in the cave except Jason's old one, to remind spoiled idiot Bruce of his mistake.. The new kid only came out as Robin twice.

Y/N stands in the park throwing all of Robin's new outfits into the fire she started. Needless to say, Bruce comes running from work to stop her. Alfred has failed and is getting tired of trying to stop Y/N. No matter how hard they try to stop her from getting in, no matter how hard they try to protect the new suits by locking the doors, putting up new codes, and putting the suits in unbreakable glass, it doesn't stop Y/N.

“Stop!!” Bruce grabbed Y/N’s wrist “That’s enough you crazy girl! You’ve crossed the line!!” Y/N smiled at Bruce’s words, angering him was her goal, and she succeeded. Richard stood silently behind Bruce… Oh yeah, Richard came home after hearing the news of Jason’s death, and decided to train the new kid to be Robin, but first they had to stop Y/N.

"Oh please tell me what are you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? Kick me out of the house? Punish me by not going out? Give me what you have, because I won't stop until you cry more pain and regret than you did over Jason, he died because of you so you have to take responsibility for your actions... so act like an adult and take what comes your way..." Y/N pushed Bruce's hand off her wrist then patted his shoulder and walked back inside the mansion, on her way back she saw the new kid hiding behind one of the walls looking at her angrily with tears of frustration filling his eyes. Y/N simply gave him a wicked smile and continued on her way without any regrets.

The next day, Bruce was standing in front of her room door telling her that he had booked her an appointment with a psychiatrist. Y/N pushed Bruce out of the way and ignored him and went to make breakfast. But Bruce stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Y/N was about to turn around to break his arm if she hadn't felt a needle prick her neck and everything went blurry and she lost consciousness. This was Bruce's plan with everyone... Richard, Alfred, and the new kid, they all planned this...

As Y/N tried to move and wake up, her headache was severe and the room was spinning in circles. When she tried to move her hand, she found that she was tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound. She tried to speak, but her tongue was still heavy... "I see you're awake, very good. Do you need some time to get your bearings or should we start right away?" Y/N lifted her head up, the voice was familiar... Who else but that doctor who claims to know how to treat mental patients... Leslie the devil... digs lies into people's minds so that they believe her... Pretending to be a victim... But she is a devil in human form. Jason went to her several times, and every time he came back from the sessions, he came back a different person... Someone who wasn't Jason, a stranger, so she forbade Jason from going to her...

Y/N bit her tongue to speak. “I see that spoiled brat had no other solution than to send me to the devil… right?” Leslie’s eyes narrowed at Y/N’s words. “It’s not appropriate to talk about your father that way. Bruce brought you here for your own good, you have anger issues.” Leslie said as she scribbled notes in her notebook. Y/N was silent for a moment before she smiled and said, “Well… show me how you can change for the better… just to let you know before we start that me being here now is going to cause a lot of problems so I hope you enjoy it with me.” Y/N laughed as she relaxed into chair, she couldn’t wait to see Leslie Thompkins fail at her job.

And so three days passed while Leslie kept asking Y/N questions and Y/N answered them with complete honesty.  This surprised Leslie.  “You answer the questions with such confidence.  I thought you would be stubborn and not answer…Are you planning something?”  It was already the fourth day, and Y/N had been in a good mood since she arrived until now.  Y/N laughed at Leslie’s words and said, “I thought you would never ask, and since today is the fourth day I will answer you. Actually, Bruce’s plan to bring me here… I knew about it before he drugged me.”  Leslie was surprised by Y/N’s words but she did not believe her.  “No way-..” Y/N interrupted Leslie and said, “Everything that’s happening now is part of the plan I made. Of course that spoiled brat put up security cameras all over the house, so I took advantage of that to monitor them… I had all the security cameras at my disposal from the beginning, so I knew what you and Bruce planned to do to stop me… Aren’t I a good actress?  Maybe I should get an award… What do you think?”  Y/N smiled mischievously at Leslie who was terrified.  Leslie picked up her phone to call Bruce and confirm the matter, but Bruce wasn’t answering the calls or even the messages.  She tried calling Richard, Alfred and even the new guy, but no one was answering.  Leslie turned to Y/N in fear and found that Y/N had been freed from the handcuffs.  “Leslie Thompkins..It's your end now.”

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[ariaste]

I was once talking to a massage therapist, a woman in her 50s or early 60s, and when I started telling her about how I'm demisexual, she just.... stopped in the middle of working on my shoulders. Her hands just went limp.

She was quiet for so long that I lifted up my head to see what was wrong, and she looked like she'd been struck by lightning. And finally she said, "That. I'M that. That's what I am, that's ME." and I got really choked up and said, yeah. Yeah, that is you.

Once, I got an email from an 80 year old man who said he'd seen my book in the library. He said he was so embarrassed as he checked it out because he felt like there was a spotlight shining on him and the librarian might say something... But he was brave, and he took it home and read it and LOVED IT. And then he told me that he was gay, that he'd been closeted for his entire life and he'd never told ANYONE ELSE BEFORE because it had been so dangerous when he was young, and he'd been so afraid that someone would find out. He said he'd been so scared that he'd never even dared to kiss another man. And he said that my book gave him a little taste of what real love might feel like -- he called it a ray of light in the dark. (Obviously I ugly-cried for an hour and wrote him back with a BUNCH MORE recs for gay romance novels and all the love and encouragement and emotion I had in me. I wanted so badly to talk to him more, to have a connection with him, but I think he was too afraid for more than just that little thread of a lifeline between us. I check the obituaries for his name once a year or so, just because I so badly want to know that he's still alive.)

They're out there--there are older queers of all stripes. But we have to remember that times were different in their day, and so many of them are still so, so scared. Of course they're quiet. Of course you have to go looking for them. Of course they probably won't tell you anything until you've earned their trust.

Be gentle with people when they ask awkward questions about queerness, because they might be someone who has been very scared for a very long time and who has just worked up quite a lot of bravery to ask a life-changing question to the only person they have ever encountered who might know the answer. If the solemn and sacred duty of being that angel for someone falls to you, HONOR IT. Be gentle, be warm. Welcome them when they peek out from the closet. Don't punish them for getting it a little wrong. Please, please be gentle.

I want old aros so badly. I want a history. I want a future. I want tales of lives that I understand. I want to see myself in a future where I’m happy and comfortable.

But I don’t have that, so I’ll have to build it.