#plot of my fix it fic lol

[plusultraetc]

426

guys don’t worry dabi will be fine when shigaraki returns somehow with both aspects of overhaul instead of just decay he can use it to heal him and spinner and toga and be the league’s hero also kurogiri is fine

[idaten-jump]

Hey peeps, are there AIs that can generate good fics?

Just uh... asking. For a friend. Yeah.

Totally not because I gave up or anything, oh no.

[romatito]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Hetalia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: South Italy/Spain (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), North Italy & South Italy (Hetalia), England/Portugal (Hetalia) Characters: North Italy (Hetalia), South Italy (Hetalia), Spain (Hetalia), Netherlands (Hetalia), Belgium (Hetalia), Luxembourg (Hetalia), Portugal (Hetalia), France (Hetalia), England (Hetalia) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Golden Age of Piracy, beware: there are probably historical inaccuracies in here, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Established Relationship, im leaning into the swashbuckler fantasy its more fun that way let me live, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

haha oops this is technically late but! it's finally update time. lol

[sentientsky]

Here, I’m bored and tired, so have an excerpt from my fic, “Until the Bitter End”, specifically a major plot point in chapter 8 because someone bookmarked it as “start at chapter 8” aksjsajsjkskdj

[prismaticpichu]

Ahhh crap the fic turned into a Nibelheim Fix-It rhehehdhdhdhhdhdhd WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME LMFAO

Hopefully both delicious tho! 😂

[beevean]

i really liked lenore at first in castlevania when i watched it until i finished S4 with my boyfriend and he told me (not word for word) "i think you only like lenore because you've made up your own view of her in your head and she's not actually as well written as you think she is". he was right. i was fucking imagining she was an actually good character.

now that it's been a day since we finished the show, i looked through the castlevania tags and found your posts on hector and lenore and uh... yeah, i can see why he said that now. should we even watch nocturne? he told me "maybe it'll be better than the first one" but i'm on the fence here, i feel like i might get my hopes up too much about it...

Bro, your timing wouldn't be more right. I just finished writing a scene I had stuck in my head for ages, where I did exactly what many do without realizing and basically wrote the Lenore in my head which makes much more sense as a character than what we had on screen 😂

(also I'm very flattered that my posts managed to have an impact! I tend to screech in the void so I don't expect anyone except my mutuals to read them lol)

She is such a good concept, wasted away by the worst writer who could have written her. She has many intriguing elements to her name! Her design that speak of her personality, how hard she tries to look soft and harmless - I really like the detail of her cutting her own claws and putting on make up to simulate blushing cheeks. The implicit resentment of her own vampirism, implied by things like her random comment about eating food (which she equates to "living well") and her alleged insistence on using diplomacy in a culture that thrives on violence: missing her own humanity and trying to recreating it would be the only valid interpretation of the "princess in mourning" theme supposedly going on (have you noticed how she introduces herself to Hector with a black veil that she lifts, as if unmasking herself? And then she never wears black veils again? That's most surely a vestige of this idea that never came to fruition). The, at times, clever abuse that feels realistic in the way she dodges responsibility and makes others feel responsible. The giant savior complex, of someone who is power hungry and revels in feeling superior over others but expresses it by "taking care" of "inferior" creatures - like a twisted Rosaly, if you are familiar with the game lore.

Lenore is a vampire who doesn't want to be a vampire, who clearly thinks herself better than her own kind, but can't rise above her own nature. She is amoral, selfish (this post is my best one to date <3), only concerned with her own comfort, hedonistic, cruel, hypocritical, a professional liar, but she has principles. When she promised that she would keep Hector safe, she meant it - in the worst possible way, by ignoring his human dignity, but she really seems to think, like Carmilla, that love is keeping something with you for as long as you can. Her apparent fascination with humanity contrasts with Hector, who is alienated from his own humanity and seems fascinated with vampirekind and all things grotesque and unnatural. On top of this, you have the conflict between her and the rest of the council, who seem to think of her as a stupid little girl who can't do anything worthwile, which makes her snap if underestimated: this is, surprisingly enough, relatable, in a pathetic sort of way. It's fascinating! Look at all these good ingredients for a complex antagonist and foil for Hector!

But in practice, she is simply awful, an not just because she's an abusive rapist played for titillation. In S3, she is cartoonishly evil, basically Carmilla 2.0 + BDSM patch (and not even the hot vampire kind, girl doesn't do so much as bite her pet), the most stereotypical smug, obnoxious, condescending manipulator a porn writer could write, things that even Ace Attorney would say "hey man, maybe she's too much of a caricature" - and in order to make her look smart, Hector had to be lobotomized to a truly embarrassing degree, and his potential character arc was pissed away. Moral conflict over agreeing to culling his own kind? never heard of her. let's make him sound like a child who just needs a mommy. (also, it really doesn't speak well of Lenore's skills if she felt that she had to resort to using her pussy to win over the stupidest man on earth. Sexism, much?) In S4, she's downright pathetic, doing nothing but whining about how boohoo her besties are sidelining her :( and boohoo Carmilla's evil plan is soooooo inconvenient for her :( while the man she raped into slavery pats her little head and concedes that it's not rape if he enjoyed it, and the story tries so hard to make you forget about how disgustingly cruel Lenore was to him less than two months prior - so hard that even the writing itself degrades in front of your eyes. If you have found my old posts, you must have found the ones where I talked about how Lenore's ring is completely pointless, because if it worked, all the "cute" scenes between them would have a sour aftertaste, and we can't have that.

In short, the show promotes the idea that a gilded cage is a good thing, and if a cute woman traps you there, then it's nothing to complain about. Even if it's through sniper-accurate emotional abuse and sexual deceit. It's not like it's rape if you gave your consent under false pretenses :) you were stupid for falling for it anyway :) Lenore was right in saying that what Hector always needed was being made a "pet" and kept safe, because that's how you show love! By trapping people at your side, for their own good!

It makes me puke. Lenore should have stayed a villain. Giving her a backstory, showing her more vulnerable side and her fears, would have worked well, if only she and Hector were treated like characters, and not fucking ship fuel for fans who masturbated at her and wished they were him! That's the thing that pisses me off: Hector is not respected as a character and a victim of abuse, and Lenore is not taken seriously as a female abuser because she's too "cute"! There's no room for that contrast between a vampire drawn to humanity and a human drawn to vampirekind, when Hector is not afforded a shred of internal world (or dignity in general) and Lenore's angst is reduced to "besties don't like me" to not dwell into her monstrosity!

By contrast, Isaac from the games has an extremely compelling backstory that makes you sympathize all too well with his despair and anger: he's a victim of circumstances outside of his control. But the story doesn't get all 🥺 when he kills Hector's wife and dangles her head in front of him while taunting him. Cool motive, still murder and all that, being a hot tragic twink doesn't make him suddenly redeemable. The story allows me to decide how much I want to sympathize with the villain. The show instead always forces you to feel sorry for its murderers and rapists... except the Japanese not-twins, who are not considered real characters. Or Carmilla, who is too much of a Hysterical Woman and therefore needs to be put down and replaced by the Logical Man. Have I mentioned how sexist this show is? Usually the sexism is reserved for the non-masculine men, but Carmilla and even Lenore are victims of a more traditional misogyny.

Yes, Lenore is badly written! She's fetish fuel in S3 and then woobiefied for the fans in S4! She's Wildly Inconsistent™, incoherent, and wishy-washy! But if you pay attention to the dialogue and not just the "hot" scenes, then you notice all those details being left afloat in a sea of wasted potential. I'm still not over her mentioning that she eats human food, and that going absolutely nowhere. So it's easy for your brain, who can surely write better than Ellis can, to dream up a version of her that actually makes sense, and then getting confused and thinking it was what you watched all along.

No, trust me. Everytime I start to think "mhh, maybe her fans (the non-horny ones) may be seeing something that I missed, they might have a point", I only need to rewatch her scenes, and be reminded of the fact that no. she sucks. her voice sucks. her expressions suck. she is a caricature. i need to rescue her from the shitty writer and turn her into a proper semi-tragic villain. and turn hector into something closer to his game counterpart while i'm at it.

As proof, just see how many people missed that, in theory, she killed herself out of fear that she'd go insane and mad with power as Carmilla did, again fitting the idea that she hates being a vampire, and has come to see her as a metaphorical cage. Her fans assume she felt guilty for how she treated Hector (she did not, "I'm sorry things happened" is not an apology, especially if you were one of those things), and most instead think, because of her shitty voice direction and complete lack of characterization that isn't "woe is me", that she killed herself because she couldn't deal with being Isaac's prisoner for a few decades, making her look like a massive petty hypocrite. That is bad writing. Your character was not conveyed properly. Because Lenore never once expressed the view of feeling stuck in a cage, because she was too busy molesting Hector and crying over how useless her bestie made her feel.

Anyway, as for Nocturne. It really depends on what you liked about the OG show. Nocturne is bland, so far. It has nothing to do with Castlevania, both the games and the show: if you liked Alucard, that's pretty much the only connection with the OG show it has. You can tell the writer wanted to recreate so badly what made the OG show show appealing, but lacked fundamental elements like an interesting villain. It also deals with historical and political themes with all the finesse of a war hammer on your balls. However, it does not viscerally insult me like the OG show, it at least attempts to be slightly more hopeful and less cynically edgy, and some storylines even have me politely interested - Olrox and Mizrak have a more compelling "problematic" human/vampire relationship than Hector and Lenore, with Olrox being a more genuinely morally grey vampire. If you want to try, S1 is generally considered a huge bore, while S2 has been much better received - personally, though, I only felt it way too confusing and rushed, like a S4 of the OG show on steroids.

Most fans of the show seem to agree that the OG was better. Make of that what you will.

[non-un-topo]

Me: Oh my profs are on strike. Now is the perfect time to catch up on assignments and start reading ahead.

Also me: The time is NOW to start writing that plot-heavy Northeast Indian queer quartet adventure you've been recursively planning out for over a year !!

[vv-ispy]

.

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

having soooo many thoughts about a potential steddyhands 1001 nights ofmd au where stede is a merman...

[habibisagi]

literally worst thing ever when you're so close to being done with a fic and then suddenly you get an additional idea that could make it much better but it would mean having to go back through the 10k+ words you just wrote to add it in there as some big detail

[ranger-kellyn]

in a race against my meds to type this out and make it halfway coherent, BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think I finally had a breakthrough with my fic, Getaway Car. Ever since I posed the last chapter [CH 10 In which Getaway Car is sent to print] I've felt utterly disappointed in myself. I feel like I gave in to the idea that I needed to wrap the fic up, because I'm being too much and it's too long to the point where nobody is going to want to read this nightmare fic. While I'm still ultimately fine with the chapter itself, I've been stuck with this feeling like there should have been more leading up to that chapter. Like. Something was distinctly missing. The thing being the filming of the "fade to black" section of the script, something that someone even noted in a comment after I had posted the original Ch 10.

A month or so ago, I came to the conclusion that my biggest problem with Getaway Car was that I stopped writing for myself, and that the original ending I had planned was no longer suiting the story I wanted to tell.

Since then, I've been thinking a lot about how I actually want the story to go. What would the most self-indulgent ending to this story be if I allowed myself?

From there, I've come to the idea that I'm going to basically...move what is now Chapter 10 to be Chapter 11, go back and write a chapter for the filming of the fade to black, maybe revise a bit of what becomes ch 11, and then continue on from there.

I started a brand new outline last week, and I think I'm finally in the genuine home-stretch with this story. I won't change anything on AO3 or FFN until I have things written, but...idk. I'm really hoping to have this all wrapped up by like...February, since that's the current swiftie clown theory (affectionate) of when Taylor's going to announce reuptation TV, and look. I will keep my word about finishing this story before Getaway Car TV is released (ง'̀v‘́)ง

[roylustang]

Love running because sometimes I have a fic idea breakthrough. This shits gonna hurt so bad now lmfao

[onegreenline]

rereading the captain’s prince for the first time in a year and parts of it make me think wow who could possibly have written something that hits all my favorite tropes, comedy, and emotional beats so perfectly??? and other parts are like what on earth is going on here

[fake-bleach]

ROAD TRIP STOP | LOGAN HOWLETT x READER

taking a small road trip with old man logan where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics.

or, logan fucks you in a gas station bathroom <3

word count: 3.3k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, porn w/ slight plot lol, piv, unprotected sex, this shit is roughhh, degrading, filthyyy dirty talk, use of pet names, slight choking, coming inside/creampie, manhandling? i guess?, logan refers to himself as "your old man" bc i'm insane, anddd happy ending bc we all know how much i love those! :D

a/n: there aren't nearly enough fics abt old man logan & i need him Badly.

+ logan pictures from @divinesols incredible moodboard <3

ao3 link! | my masterlist

you’re 4 hours into your road trip, and logan, well, being the man he is, hasn’t let you drive a single second.

he tells you that you can just sit there n’ look pretty and that’s good enough for him. but, he’s getting tired, and the nearest hotel isn’t for another 50 miles.

you notice his eyes getting heavier, his body slouching more, his grip on the steering wheel loosening. so, you do what you do best. why not have some harmless fun with your old boyfriend?

your hands subtly inch over to his thighs, fingers trailing the clothed skin just above his knee, and he flinches surprisingly, glancing at you for a moment with that tired face of his.

“what are y’doing? huh?” he asks, with a quirk in his eyebrow and his voice rasping more than usual from his fatigue; it only makes it all the more arousing for you.

you grin, your head turned to look up at him with a sly expression. “just waking you up a bit. you’re practically falling asleep here.”

your fingers move upwards now, slowly but surely, and right before you can reach the spot just below his bulge, he sighs out, gripping your hand to lightly push it off of him.

“not here. got another hour left til’ we’re at the hotel. then, we can rest up, baby.”

you pout, looking at him eagerly. “are you even gonna make it there, lo?” you tease, “your eyes are getting heavier, you’re tired.. why don’t you just let me drive?” you attempt, but you’re knocked down the second you try.

he huffs, shaking his head. “don’t you try that shit. you know what m’gonna say to that.”

you groan at that, rolling your eyes fussily as your head turns to look up at the roof of the car. “you’re insufferable,” you sigh out, jokingly, of course. but, you were with logan long enough to know just how stubborn he could be. that he could almost always be.

which means, you knew exactly how to get what you wanted, in more ways than one. 

let’s just say this way was more fun, anyway.

you let out an exasperated breath before turning back to face him, your eyes lighting up just slightly before you open up your mouth.

“guess i just gotta..” you trail off, hands now on your body with your fingertips grazing the skin on your chest; roaming around the loose shirt you had on. “..entertain myself for the next hour then..”

logan turns his head to you now, eyes fixing on your hand just long enough to catch you slip it underneath your bra, cupping one of your tits. you let out a low moan as you look into his eyes, fingers rolling the nipple there, and he scoffs.

it’s a sound that has your heart racing immediately.

“you’ve been a good girl so far, sweetheart. would hate for you to switch up when we’re almost fuckin’ there.” he warns you, turning his head back to the road, having seen enough. “don’t you start now. gonna make you regret it.”

a pang of arousal hits you just like that, pussy involuntarily clenching around nothing as he threatens you; a threat that you definitely need to see for yourself.

you merely pout at him again, but his words aren’t enough to stop you. not when you’re just getting started.

your hand leaves your breast, slowly inching down your stomach, then to the waistband of your shorts, all with your eyes still locked on him. you bite your lip as your hand breaches underneath the material, testing the waters before your fingers reach the hem of your panties.

fingertips aching to dip into the wet heat, you anticipate your own touch as your hands lower, but an immediate grasp at your wrist stops you completely, eliciting a gasp from your throat.

mouth falling open in shock, you turn to look at the man responsible with that gruff look on his face, and that snarl from him gives you more than enough of a warning.

you clear your throat, letting out a noise of frustration towards your boyfriend as he all but tosses your hand away carelessly.

“knock. it. off. don’t make me say it again.”

logan nearly growls at you, moving in closer to get right in your face; he isn’t playing around, and you know it.

but, god, does it only encourage you more.

it isn’t until logan’s focus is completely back on the road that you test the waters again; your fingers finally inserting themselves into your soft, warm folds, wet and waiting so impatiently.

it makes you moan, a hushed sound that you try your hardest to bite back from releasing, but you’re evidently unsuccessful.

so, before you know it, the truck is swerving, causing you to pull yourself back to hold onto the sides of the car, anywhere that you could grab onto. the wheels squeal loudly as the high pitch penetrates your ears, and logan makes a harsh u-turn without a second to waste.

“lo! what the fuck!” you exclaim loudly, wild eyes reaching for his own, but it’s no use. he’s dead set in front of him, shaking his head furiously as the white of his knuckles present itself from holding onto the wheel so tightly.

he’s had enough of your shit.

his eyes never leave the road in front of him once, never returning to you. no matter how much you talk or try to get him to respond, he doesn’t budge.

instead, for the next 5 minutes, silence fills the space between you as your eyes shut from your frustration. it’s all you really can do at this point.

but, it’s only when the high screech of the wheels halting and the gear being put into park has your eyes opening again, eyes latching onto the bright lights in front of you.

a gas station, and the convenience store’s white luminescent glass reflecting on logan’s face. he’s out the driver’s side as soon as you can look at him, and before you can process it, he’s dragging you out of the truck, slamming the door shut as he does so.

you scramble against him, fists almost pushing their hardest into his chest as you whine loudly, increasingly dazed and confused.

“logan, what the fuck are you doing?! let go of me!”

you fight against him harder, but there’s nothing stopping him. not now.

he lets out an exasperated breath, his heavy footsteps embedding themselves into the loud gravel beneath them as he drags you along.

“don’t play that shit with me. actin’ like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing,” he practically yells at you in a hushed voice, “you know what the fuck you’re doing.”

“walk.” he orders you instantly, and you don’t hesitate to obey. not when his voice gets like that.

most of all, because it makes your heart pound—pounding in your chest because he’s right. you know what you’re doing.. but, you can’t say you regret it. no, not one bit.

and if he’s gonna make you regret it, you might as well go all out. right?

his grip on your arm is tight as you walk side by side with him, leading you into the gas station with the door open for you. you can’t even acknowledge the cashier from how quick logan swifts the two of you past them; straight towards the bathroom, and it makes you gulp. 

it’s too late for anyone to be around, too late for anyone to care, and you know that. but, the thought exhilarates you anyway.

he shoves the door open with a hushed whisper—one that’s almost incoherent as it escapes his lips. “you wanna act like a fucking brat?” he shuts the door hurriedly, shoving your body against the sink, “i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat.”

you yelp at the sudden movement, his fingers digging themselves into your skin as you cry out at the feeling. it’s rough and brutal and it burns, but it’s so fucking good.

“lo.. lo, please,” you whine as your eyes shut tightly, the overwhelming sensation of his hands on you and his hot breath hitting your skin being too much to handle.

your body is flush against the sink as you attempt to squirm, to try to get him to do something, anything.

that cruel laugh of his fills your ears—quiet yet booming in your head as it sends chills throughout your entire body, eyes flashing open to look at him in the mirror in front of you. “please? please?” logan mocks you, “do y’even know what you’re asking for, baby? nah.. you don’t.”

“you just want..” logan trails off, his hands mindlessly reaching for your shorts, “to get fucked.. like the whore you are.”

without a single warning, he yanks them down along with your panties, and your whines are impossible to stop when the cool air hits your bare skin. when his filthy words are the only thing you can think about.

“can’t keep these pretty hands to yourself, you gotta rile me up to do it for you?” you hear the clank of his belt unbuckling, the zipper of his jeans sliding down, “gotta piss me off every goddamn time you get so fucking needy? i mean,” he laughs harder now, “not that i really blame you..”

logan pauses, and his eyes that were once staring directly at you now shift to look straight ahead, latching onto your mirrored reflection instead. as if he was looking right into you now. “pretty girl like you.. would be a shame to let this cunt go to waste. so, i’ll do you a favor..”

your jaw falls open in complete shock as your face contorts, as the tip of his cock breaches your tight hole, making your eyes roll back instantaneously with a sob from your lips.

“i’ll use her real good. for what she’s made for, yeah?”

your hands grip the sink in front of you as tightly as possible, body trembling as logan groans into your ear, his hands on your body never loosening.

instead, his grip only tightens as his hips become flush against your ass, his entire cock piercing you to the hilt with a satisfied moan.

“that was easier this time, wasn’t it? gettin’ used to me now. just needed to..” logan takes a moment to pull himself out of you, the tip resting against your entrance as he groans. he slams himself back inside of you so hard that your body fails you, your hands landing on the mirror to hold yourself up, bent over.

“break her in real fucking good.”

your body shakes against him as you cry out at his intrusion, stammering out a string of noises as your walls involuntarily clench around him over and over again. it’s almost as if you’re rapidly adapting to him; the way he stretches you out so much that it hurts in the best way possible. you’re pulsing around him, increasingly growing wetter by the second as your eyes water from the intense sensation.

your words slur with a few whines of what seem to be logan’s name as your hands move back to the sink, attempting to push yourself back up against him, but he stops you. grabbing one of your hands, he places it right against the mirror again, holding it still as he grinds himself into you. it makes you breathe out rapidly, body bent over the sink completely now.

“keep em’ right there. right fucking there. you don’t get to do that. y’don’t get to make any choices here.” he grunts in your ear, his thick beard grazing along your jaw as his eyes flicker from your face back to the mirror. he notices the way you’re trembling, eyes filled with those pretty tears of yours, and it makes him smile—a chuckle leaving him shamelessly.

he takes a moment to admire you, whispering out, “what i’m gonna do to you, baby..” and it makes your eyes flutter shut, warmth filling your core.

his other hand trails up the front of your body now, and it practically covers you completely because of how big it is—your stomach, your breasts, your chest, then finally, your neck. your gasp is loud; heavy, as his fingers wrap around your throat, holding you still for him.

all of you in the palm of his hand—all in his control.

you moan eagerly as he looks into your eyes through the mirror, grinning almost maliciously, “isn’t this what you wanted?” he laughs, his hips stirring a bit as he agonizingly pulls out of you, making you wince, “you wanted my attention so bad, wanted my cock so fucking bad..” he growls in your ear, his hand sliding from your throat to the back of your neck, pushing you down hard, and it makes you grip onto the side of the sink even more. 

“well, now you fucking got it.”

the sound of his rasping grunt hits you first; before you’re sobbing out on his cock, pelvis hammering inside of you with a tight hold on your neck, keeping you there with no chance of stopping, no squirming, no escaping.. no running away from this.

all you can do is take it as he pounds into you, the agonizing ache of his cock sliding in and out of you rapidly increasing the coil in your core, your loud cries and moans enough to make him go harder.

“there you go, there she is..” logan grits out, hands now grasping at your hips, smacking your ass, eliciting a grunt from you, “better fuckin’ hope no one walks in here, or else all they’re gonna see is some whore gettin’ used.”

you cry out as you feel the tip of his cock reach the deepest parts inside of you, nudging your g-spot suddenly as a tear slides down your cheek, your knuckles white from how tight you were grasping at your surroundings. your cheeks grow hot from the idea of that happening, stomach tightening as heat pools your core.

“what’d they think, huh? you think they’d wanna join in on the fun? bet they’d wanna fuck you too after i’m done with you. tightest fuckin’ hole i’ve ever had.”

you whine out now, shaking your head desperately in retaliation as you deny it. you couldn’t ever have another man like this, not now, not ever—only him.

logan sighs out, “no, no, no, i’d never let em’ baby, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, pressing his lips against the top of your head, “this,” he murmurs, his hand reaching to cup the front of your cunt, the rough skin on his palm grazing your clit just enough to make you squeal, “s��all fuckin’ mine. you hear me? not a single soul gets to use her like i can.”

“not like she’d want it anyway. only wants my cock in her. s’the only way she can really be filled up.. fucked stupid and cryin’ for me. ain’t that right? never got fucked by a man like me before y’met me, and i’m sure as hell no one will ever get her trembling like i do.”

you shake your head again, tears continuously spilling out of your eyes as your stomach tightens repeatedly, “n-no, lo, only you—” you stammer out as logan buries himself inside of you to the hilt, plunging into the warm heat of your walls, and he slows, relying on pure power than pace now. the harsh drive of his hips has your head fogging up, so close to reaching your peak with your cunt shuddering.

“ohh, there we go, she’s doing it now. shaking all over this fucking cock, squeezin’ me so tight,” he hisses, “that all you up in this pretty little head, or can you even control it? can’t even control it, can you, baby?”

a string of noises leaves your lips, breathless and mixed with whines and a few tears in your eyes as your core spasms out, his cock hitting deep inside of you repeatedly.

“what was that? can’t really.. understand you, baby, y’gotta speak up..” he teases, a mean laugh escaping his throat, “c’monnn, use your words, really think em’ out, say em’ clearly.”

“c’mon, show me that you’re still my good girl. my good little girl. speak up for your old man, honey.”

you yelp out at his filthy words, “m’.. i c-can’t.. control it, ah!” your moans involuntarily stringing out, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of your head, your pussy convulsing around him intensely. “g-gonna–c-cum, lo, oh—” you spit out, your chest grasping for as much air as possible.

he hums in your ear now, fingers reaching for your clit and fastening tight, harsh circles at it, making you shudder, your cunt throbbing around his cock—pulsating over and over again as you start to see white. “gonna fill you up, sweetheart, gonna make you take it, fuck.”

you can’t even register him anymore as he talks you through it, the “come for me, baby,” muffled in your ears as you listen to him, cunt constricting around him tightly as you soak him, and the sound is filthy as logan chases his release, squelching loudly from your climax.

you let out a muffled sob as logan finally reaches his peak, slamming himself deep inside of you as he holds you there, the spurts of white hot spilling & coating your walls. all you can hear is the ringing in your ears, along with the mixture of your heavy breaths and logan’s rasps surrounding you.

logan’s strong arms pull you up against him as you catch your breath, heart rate slowing as your back leans against his chest tiredly. he mutters sweet nothings to you, praising you with kisses along your neck, cheek, then to your lips.

“my good fucking girl, my sweet girl—oh, baby,” he hums in your ear, eyes shut as he takes you in. you sigh out, breathing him in as your hand reaches behind, landing on the back of his head to pull him in closer, “god, i love you.”

you laugh, pressing a mindless kiss on his skin, “i love you more, lo, i–i’m sorry for acting out, for being such a—” you begin to apologize, but he just shuts you up with another peck to your lips. “shh, you hush now. i appreciate it.. you riling me up all the damn time. s’ the only way i can still feel so young.”

you giggle, eyes opening up to turn your head to him, taking in his disheveled look—tired, old, grumpy. the man you loved, as handsome as ever.

“always young in my eyes, lo..” you smile, “besides.. it’s the only way i can get you to fuck me that good.” you tease.

he huffs, rolling his eyes. “i fuck you that good every goddamn time, n’ don’t you deny it.”

you laugh, nodding. you can’t deny that fact. but, your eyebrows furrow slightly, suddenly thinking back to the previous events.

“did you really fuck me in a gas station bathroom, babe? what if someone walked in?!” you groan, pushing your forehead into his chest, embarrassed.

he chuckles, “locked it the minute we got in here, baby. wouldn’t let anyone see you like that,” he reassures you, gently gripping the side of your head to make you look up at him, “you got that?”

his face is stern now as he looks into your eyes, and those butterflies in your stomach erupt as if it were the first time you ever got them from him. you nod though, gleaming up at him.

“got it.”

he grins, “good. now, let’s get you cleaned up n’ back on the road. back’s killing me even more now n’ that bed’s calling my name.”

you laugh at him, teasing him further. “old man.”

you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[axkirak]

Kiss and Make up

(𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Viktor x f!reader

Fandom : Arcane (TV Series)

Content waring : 18+ smut/nsfw, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v, vanilla sex, creampie, slightly OOC because they fucking COMMUNICATE

tags : porn with plot, argument, makeup sex, angst and fluff and smut, purposeful teasing, workaholic viktor, canon compliant, these character's aren't perfect and sometimes do stupid things (english isn't my first language)

Summary: As a Zaunite, Viktor always knew he had to work five times harder to prove himself in Piltover. His work always came first, even before you. But when you finally reached your breaking point and decided to leave him, he realized what truly mattered.

A/N : just binged Arcane season one and and immediately decided I had to write a Viktor fic. Please enjoy my 6,517-word smut fic Lol.

Viktor’s workaholic tendencies were, without question, his greatest flaw—one no amount of effort could ever fix.

He was painfully aware that his place in Piltover society was worlds apart from everyone else’s. After all, he had been born a Zaunite. He wasn’t one of the privileged from the Upper City, blessed with wealth and comfort. On the contrary, he had grown up in crushing poverty. His body, too, had never been his ally—frail, thin, and broken. His right leg was useless—permanently braced with metal and reliant on a cane he could never part with.

But for all his physical shortcomings, Viktor’s brilliance more than made up for them. His intellect bordered on the extraordinary. At a young age, his talents stood out so starkly they caught the attention of Professor Heimerdinger himself. It was Heimerdinger who plucked Viktor out of the Undercity slums, gave him shelter and a scholarship that opened the doors to the University of Piltover. Viktor graduated with a doctorate in his early twenties, becoming the youngest PhD holder in the city’s history, and secured a position at the academy as assistant dean not long after.

Nothing in Viktor’s life had ever come easily. Every inch of progress had to be earned through sheer determination and relentless effort. From his school days through to his professional life, he worked at least five times harder than everyone else. All of it—every sleepless night, every sacrificed comfort—had been for one purpose: to prove he belonged. That he wasn’t just some crippled, penniless boy from Zaun who had lucked out and stumbled upon Heimerdinger’s charity.

His relentless need to prove his worth had slowly consumed him, transforming what was once an admirable work ethic into outright obsession. What began as ambition had long since crossed into compulsion—until, at last, Viktor became the very embodiment of a workaholic.

Every breath he took was devoted to his work and research, which had become more important to him than anything else in the world.

…Perhaps even more than you.

You and Viktor had been together for years—lovers since your university days, when you, two years his junior, first crossed paths in a physics class. It was your sharp wit and incisive questions that caught his attention from the start.

You weren’t afraid to challenge him, especially when it came to his research, which you believed still had plenty of room for refinement. Viktor had expected to be irritated by your constant critiques. Instead, he found himself utterly captivated. Your confidence, your mind, the way you spoke with such unwavering clarity drew him in completely.

He fell for you hard, and fast.

And it terrified him.

Despite being hailed as a prodigy among his peers, Viktor knew he was painfully inexperienced in matters of the heart. His attempts at courting you were nothing short of disastrous. He was always awkward, flustered, and hopelessly out of his depth, fumbling over words every time he tried to talk to you.

So it was a complete mystery to him—what did you see in a crippled, ordinary man like him? Why did you say yes when he finally confessed his feelings? He had braced himself for rejection, fully expecting a ninety percent chance that you would gently turn him down. But you didn’t.

You said yes.

And from that day onward, Viktor felt like the luckiest man in all of Piltover.

You cared for him with quiet devotion, never once faltering through all the years you’d been together. You made him meals three times a day, brewed his favorite black coffee each morning so he could take it with him to the Academy. You reminded him, almost pleadingly, to eat at proper hours and to sleep at least six hours a night. You begged him not to get so absorbed in his research that he worked straight through until dawn, just like he used to during his university days.

Viktor always promised you he’d try. He meant it, every time. But he never managed to keep his word.

Time after time, he would lose himself in his work, completely oblivious to the hour. He would drag his body home near dawn, exhaustion etched deep into his features, as if this was the only way he knew how to live.

He assumed—mistakenly—that you had grown used to his way of life, too.

It never once crossed Viktor’s mind that the day might come...

The day when your patience finally ran out.

Tonight is another night Viktor returns to the apartment later than expected.

After spending countless hours working in the Academy’s lab, exhaustion weighs heavily on every inch of his body as he steps through the door. The clock on the living room wall strikes three in the morning just as Viktor enters.

All he wants right now is to crawl into bed, wrap his arms around you, and drift off to sleep with your body warm against his chest. That’s the moment he cherishes most—the fleeting pause when he can let go of his burdens, wash away the physical and mental fatigue, simply by lying beside you each night.

But tonight is different.

You're wearing a silky sky-blue nightgown, your favorite color and a familiar sight to him. But this time, you're not lying on the bed like you usually do. You're sitting at the kitchen table, chin resting in your hand as you gaze blankly out the apartment window. Moonlight spills across your face, casting delicate shadows and making your features appear even more striking in the dim room. Your brows are slightly furrowed, as if you're lost in thought.

Viktor frowns as well, sensing that something isn’t quite right, though he can’t put his finger on it, and that uncertainty leaves him uneasy. He quickly shrugs off his coat and hangs it by the door before carefully walking toward you, the soft tap of his cane on the floor the only sound breaking the tense silence.

“You’re late. Again.”

You speak without looking at him. Though Viktor hasn’t yet seen your expression clearly, your tone carries a trace of irritation, and that alone is enough to tell him exactly what kind of situation he’s walking into.

Viktor sighs. This isn’t the first time the two of you have argued about this, even though it doesn’t happen often. Still, he never quite gets used to dealing with your anger. You’re not the type to snap or raise your voice when you’re angry. Quite the opposite. When you’re mad at him, you become eerily calm—quiet like the surface of the ocean before a tsunami.

And that, frankly, terrifies him.

Viktor’s expression softens slightly as he steps closer, steady but careful, stopping just short of where you sit, close enough to reach, but not close enough to invade your space. He braces one hand on the edge of the table to steady himself, amber eyes fixed on you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Viktor says simply. “I lost track of time.”.

There’s no excuse, and he doesn’t offer one. The two of you know each other too well for lies. A single glance speaks louder than any words could. And Viktor knows he’s at fault. He buried himself in work and forgot everything else, including your request for him to come home on time.

Once again, he’s broken his promise to you.

You fall silent, not saying a word or even glancing his way. Your gaze stays on the window, your thoughts miles away. “Go to bed, Vik. It’s late. You have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Your voice is cold, emotionless. You don’t even bother to look at him, as if he isn’t here at all.

Silence stretches between you. Viktor watches you closely, his sharp eyes scanning from head to toe before settling on your face beneath the soft glow of moonlight. It’s the face of the woman he loves, steady and unchanged, just as it has been day after day.

“You’re… still upset,” he says bluntly. It’s not a question, just another one of Viktor’s logical conclusions. To him, everything runs on cause and effect—patterns he can analyze, break down, and solve.

It’s one of the things you both admire and resent about him: that analytical mind of his, always dissecting everything and searching for a clear answer, especially when it comes to you.

You let out a long sigh. “I’m not. I’m just tired,” you reply flatly, still refusing to meet his gaze. Your eyes remain fixed on the night sky beyond the glass, as if there’s something out there far more interesting than him.

Viktor scoffs under his breath, clearly unconvinced.

His slender fingers gently take your chin, coaxing you to look at him. “Don’t lie to me,” he says, voice low but firm. His gaze pierces into yours, unwavering and intense, refusing to let you look away. “You’re angry because I came home late. Aren’t you?”

You meet his gaze coldly before pulling his hand away. “Do I even have the right to be mad at you, Vik?” you snap, sarcasm edging your voice. “This is your life. Your job. None of it has anything to do with me.”

Viktor’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing. There’s hurt in his expression, mixed with a flicker of frustration. “Nothing to do with you?” he echoes, stepping closer until only inches separate you. His jaw tightens as tension builds in his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my girlfriend. Of course it has everything to do with you.”

Now it’s your turn to scoffs “Oh, so now you remember I’m your girlfriend? I thought you were already in a relationship with your work.”

The words hit him like ice water, chilling him to the core and leaving a dull ache right in his chest.

Viktor presses his lips into a thin line. His expression hardens, laced with hurt and barely restrained anger. But he keeps his voice steady, not wanting this to spiral. “Don’t say that, Zlato[1]. You know how important my work is.” he murmurs, his tone softening. “I’m doing this for a better future—for the world, yes, but also for us. Everything I’m doing, I’m doing it for us.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about.

Hextech—the revolutionary arcane technology project that’s taken all of Piltover by storm. A project he co-founded with Jayce Talis, another rising young scientist at the Academy.

"Hextech will change the world.”

That’s how he once described it to you. And deep down, you’ve always known Viktor is an ambitious man. He’s always wanted to make his mark. That’s why he’s poured everything into this project—because he truly believes it’s the key to making his dream come true.

So when he says he’s ‘doing it for both of us’ you let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

Because you know it’s not true. It never has been. He’s doing it for himself.

But you don’t argue. There’s no point. You’ve tried to change Viktor before, more times than you can count. Every time, it ends the same.

Disappointment. Loneliness. Being left behind.

And each time, it chips away at something inside you. You’re growing tired. Tired of chasing him. Tired of waiting.

Maybe... maybe it’s time for you to be the one who changes.

"I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Vik. Let’s just go to bed." You cut him off, rising from the chair and heading back to the bedroom.

You’ve given up—for tonight, at least.

But Viktor hasn’t.

His eyes stay fixed on your back as you walk away. His expression remains unchanged, firm and determined. He grabs his cane in haste and follows closely behind.

As soon as he steps inside the bedroom, he shuts the door and turns to face you again.  "No. This isn’t over," he says firmly. "You’re angry with me. And we need to talk this through. Now."

His stubbornness makes you pinch the bridge of your nose. You exhale slowly, trying—really trying—not to snap. But it’s getting harder, especially with those amber eyes locked on you, relentless and unwavering.

"What’s the point, Viktor?" you say, your voice growing colder with each word.  "In the end, you always go back to being the same. You’ve never once cared about me"

Your words are sharp now. There’s no hiding your anger anymore.

"Maybe you really are better off alone than in a relationship."

That line cuts deeper than anything you’ve said before.

Viktor freezes, momentarily speechless. Your words strike like a blade—deep, merciless, straight to his heart.

And he knows. Deep down, he knows you’re right. He’s never been the boyfriend you deserved. His work has always come first. You have every right to be angry with him. But hearing you say it so plainly hurts in ways he never expected. It feels like you’re no longer his lover, just a stranger who happens to be sharing the same roof.

He swallows the sting of your words, forcing his face into a hard, unreadable mask. His fingers tighten around the cane until his knuckles turn white.

"Maybe you’re right..." he finally says. His voice comes out hoarse and flat—an attempt to sound unaffected, but the pain in his tone is unmistakable. "Maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Maybe it would be better for both of us...if we ended this."

He doesn’t mean it—not really.

Somewhere inside, he’s hoping you’ll take it back. That you’ll say you’re sorry. That you’ll realize you still love him. That you don’t actually want to leave.

But what he gets in return is the exact opposite.

You look at him with that same icy expression, unflinching and unreadable. You don’t argue. You don’t apologize. You simply walk over to the wardrobe, pull out your things, and toss them onto the bed. Then you grab your suitcase and begin packing, swift and eerily calm.

Viktor’s eyes widen. He never thought you’d actually go.

He wants to say something, anything, to stop you. To make you stay. But his mind is a storm of emotion: panic, guilt, and sorrow, all hitting him at once. He’s too overwhelmed to speak, too paralyzed to act. So he stands there, frozen, watching as you shove the last of your belongings into the suitcase.

He snaps back only when you finish packing and drag your suitcase to a stop right in front of him.

“You’re in the way,” you say flatly. “Move.”

And that’s when he knows you’re serious.

Once you step out of this room, this apartment, it’ll all be over. Nearly a decade together—gone in a single night.

And in that moment, it finally hits him.

Hextech was never what mattered most.

It was you.

You were the one thing he couldn’t afford to lose. You were what truly mattered, more than his work, more than his legacy. And now, he's about to lose you for good.

He can’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

Viktor still stands in place, unmoved by your command.

“Where are you even going to stay? It’s so late,” he says, desperate to stall and grasping at anything that might buy him time to fix this.

But you shut that hope down instantly.

“Not your business,”  you snap, locking eyes with him. You're standing close now, close enough to see the tiny mole above his thin upper lip and the one on his forehead. “Move, Viktor,” you say again, firmer this time.

His jaw clenches. He stares back at you without budging, plants himself firmly in front of the door.

“No,” he says, voice steely.

Viktor knows how pathetic this is. He knows he's being selfish. He never once treated you the way he should’ve. You were always second to his work. He thought you’d stay no matter what. Only now, as you’re walking away, does he realize what he’s losing.

Deep down, he knows he doesn’t deserve your love. You should be with someone who treats you right.

But there’s a part of him, buried deeper and darker, that refuses to let you go.

He has no right to ask you to stay. And yet, he says it anyway.

“I don’t want you to go.” The words come out barely above a whisper—raw, pleading. The sharpness in his voice is gone. “Please don’t go, Koloušek[2]”

Then he moves. His tall, wiry frame steps closer. One hand still grips his cane, while the other latches tightly onto your suitcase handle, refusing to let it go.

You caught off guard by his sudden action. “Vik! What the hell is wrong with you? Let go of my suitcase!” You yank it, but he only tightens his grip.

“No,” he snaps. His eyes blaze with stubborn fire. There’s no way in hell he’s letting go.

You struggle for a while, tugging the suitcase back and forth, but he won’t budge. He’s not strong by any means, not physically. But adrenaline gives him an unexpected surge of strength, and he uses all of it just to keep you from taking it.

Realizing he’s not going to let go, you finally give in. For now.

You release the handle, cross your arms with a sharp sigh, and glare at him in frustration.

He meets your gaze, unflinching.

For a few seconds, neither of you speaks. The silence thickens as you stare each other down, testing and daring each other to move first.

The air thickens, saturated with an unspoken tension that weighs heavy between you.

And in the end, it’s you who cracks.

“I hate you,” you say, hoping your voice will sound firm, resolute. But it comes out soft and trembling, like even you don’t quite believe your own words.

And he sees it. Of course he does. 

Viktor lets out a short, dry laugh and shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

He steps in, this time closer than before. So close your chests nearly touch. He’s only slightly taller, so when you’re face to face like this, his amber eyes are nearly level with yours. You catch every flicker of emotion in them. And you know, without question, he reads yours just as clearly.

“You’re just angry. I get it,” he murmurs. “But you don’t actually hate me.”

He speaks with such calm certainty that it’s maddening.

“You’ll never hate me. Even if you try. Even if you push me away or tell yourself a thousand times you’re fine without me. It’s a lie, and you know it.” His voice drops to a whisper, warm breath brushing your skin as he leans in. “Want to know why?”

You already do. And Viktor does too.

“Because you know I love you,” he breathes. The words fall like a confession, weighted and unshakable.

His hand lifts to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw before stopping at your chin. He tilts it up gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He sees the hitch in your breath, the flicker in your gaze—both undeniable signs that he’s right.

“And you still love me.”

You freeze, stunned by the sudden kiss that follows.

His lips crash into yours, and before you can step away, his arms wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him, leaving no space between your bodies and no chance to escape.

The kiss is desperate and deep, hungry yet heartbreakingly tender. It steals your breath away. You can feel it all in the way he kisses you: the longing, the guilt, the silent apology he can’t voice but tries to show with every motion of his mouth against yours.

And for a moment, the world fades.

Your mind goes blank. Everything disappears except for the feel of him—his lips devouring yours over and over, his tongue slipping past your lips with impatient desire.

Without realizing it, your hands reach up to circle his neck, and you kiss him back—just as fiercely, just as helplessly.

You only realize it when your back hits the mattress, guided down by Viktor’s gentle push.

Now, you're lying beneath him, completely bare, your nightgown already stripped away. Your hair fans across the pillow, and your half-lidded eyes shimmer with the heat of unrelenting desire. Your cheeks burn, flushed a deep red. You breathe in ragged gasps as you stare up at him, questions trembling behind your gaze, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

You catch the way his eyes roam over every inch of you, drinking in every detail now exposed to him. His palm glides over your body like a man desperate for redemption, his fingertips trailing across your soft skin with a touch that feels both reverent and ravenous. Then he lowers himself, pressing his bare chest flush against your warm body. His lips move to your neck, sucking and nipping lightly, just enough to leave a mark.

Suddenly, he lifts his head and leans toward your ear. “Say it,” he whispers, voice low and possessive. “Tell me you want me.”

His hand drifts lower, fingertips teasing the sensitive peak of your breast until it hardens under his touch. The caress is featherlight, intentionally to make you squirm.

You jolt, sucking in a sharp breath. Your desire is unmistakable, tangled with frustration—at him, at yourself. You want so badly to say no, just to deny him the satisfaction. To bruise his ego. But instead, what slips from your lips is, “I want you.”

And that’s exactly what Viktor wants to hear.

A faint smile curves across his lips as he watches you shudder beneath each increasingly intimate touch. Whatever resistance you were trying to hold onto is slowly crumbling, melting into the fire steadily consuming you.

His hand continues toying with your breast, fingers brushing over the swell, feeling the rapid beat of your heart beneath his palm and the shallow rise and fall of your breath. He doesn’t make you wait. Leaning down, he exhales warmly against your skin before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud. His tongue curls and licks as his other hand rises to cup your other breast, kneading the soft flesh with purposeful pressure.

A moan escapes you before you can stop it. The pleasure surges, impossible to contain. Your hands grip the sheets tightly, desperate for something to hold onto as his mouth ravishes your chest, licking, sucking, biting, driving you wild with every deliberate stroke of his tongue.

His mouth and tongue travel lower, slowly, almost torturously. From your ribs down to your navel, he worships your body with kisses that alternate between soft and firm, leaving behind damp heat and the occasional playful scrape of teeth—gentle enough not to hurt, sharp enough to mark you as his: a claim, a brand.

Viktor halts when his lips reach the warm, damp heat between your thighs. His breath makes you twitch. You instinctively try to close your legs, but his hands catch your thighs and hold them apart, keeping you open beneath him. His eyes fixate on your glistening sex, unblinking, as his fingers slide gently through your slick folds. The more he touches, the wetter you get.

He can feel the tension coiled in your body, every breath hitching with anticipation. And it only excites him more.

Without wasting another second, he lowers his head and presses his mouth to your core, giving you a deep, lingering kiss between your thighs. He takes his time, tasting you thoroughly, his tongue lapping through every crease and fold with worshipful precision. He lingers over your clit, drawing it into his mouth with a suck that makes your hips buck. Then, he slips his index and middle fingers inside your tight heat, pumping them slowly in and out, stirring you with maddening rhythm until your sanity begins to fray.

Your head falls back against the pillow as your hands abandon the sheets and move to clutch his hair. A sob of pleasure escapes your throat while Viktor remains utterly focused, devouring you with lips and tongue, touching you with fingers that seem to know your body better than you do. He worships every inch of you as though your body were sacred.

He’s mesmerized by you, by your reactions, by the way you respond to him, by every trembling moan that spills from your lips. Everything about you drives him wild. He could spend hours like this—tasting you, exalting you, pushing you over the edge again and again.

But no, not yet.

The moment Viktor senses your body twitching in small spasms, an unmistakable sign that you're teetering on the brink, he abruptly pulls away. A frustrated moan escapes you, irritation flaring as you're left aching and unsatisfied.

“Vik! I want to come,” you protest, voice thick with need, eyes pleading for him to return to you.

That look in your eyes nearly breaks him.

But he forces himself to hold back. Just for now. He needs something from you first.

He shifts his weight, bracing himself above you once more, lining up his eyes with yours. You see the glisten on his lips, still slick with your essence. His hand moves to your hip, giving it a playful squeeze.

"You want me to make you come, don’t you?" he murmurs hoarsely against your ear before dragging those messy lips down your neck, leaving wet, deliberate kisses that mark your skin anew.

God, you feel even wetter just hearing him talk like that.

Dirty talk isn’t exactly a common feature when the two of you are in bed. But every time he lets it slip,  it wrecks you in the best way.

And he knows that. He always knows how to push your buttons.

You nod rapidly, breath catching. “Vik, please don’t tease me…”

That sly grin returns, curling at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you—shaking, desperate, pleading with that raw, aching need in your voice. He knows you’re exactly where he wants you. And he’s not about to waste it.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he says, voice slow and deliberate, as his hand glides lower. His thumb traces lazy circles on the inside of your thigh, stoking the desire already burning within you. “But you have to promise me something first...”

“...Don’t leave me. Don’t ever break up with me again.”

You freeze, staring at him in disbelief. You can’t believe he’s using this moment to negotiate terms. “Seriously, Vik?” Even though you're squirming and desperate, you can't help but throw some sass back. “Did you forget you’re the one who said, ‘Maybe it would be better for both of us if we ended this’?”

He lets out a long sigh. He knows he’s partly to blame. But he never meant for you to leave. And now, he’s doing everything he can to find a reason—any reason—to convince you to stay.

“I know I said that, but I didn’t mean it,” he mumbles, kissing along your jaw now, soft and slow, almost apologetic. “Just… promise me, Milaček[3]"

You hate to admit it, but part of you is starting to soften. Still, the bitterness from your last fight hasn’t fully faded. “Didn’t mean it? Of course you never do. Unless it’s about work—that’s the only thing you ever seem to mean,” you shoot back, quick and sharp.

Viktor stops short, then pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes narrowing at your jab. “You really have a talent for ruining the mood, you know that?” he mutters, dry and irritated.

“Oh, really? I don’t think so”  You smirk knowingly, teasing glint in your eyes. “I can tell how much you love it when I get under your skin like this. It turns you on every single time, doesn’t it?”

You don’t wait for an answer. You grind into him, and the way he hardens beneath you says it all.

Your movement catches him off guard, and he stiffens, a low growl slipping from his throat as the friction sets his nerves ablaze.

Viktor isn’t the only one who knows how to push buttons. You’ve mastered his just as well.

His hand lifts to your face, fingers pressing into your cheeks in mock frustration. His eyes are dark with want, breath coming shallow and uneven. He knows he’s about to lose control, just from your taunts and that wicked smile on your lips.

“Quiet, you,” he growls, trying to sound scold, but his hoarse voice betrays him—showing just how right you were.

You chuckle softly, raising an eyebrow at him in defiance. “Then make me... Miláček.”

And just like that, the final thread of Viktor’s restraint snaps.

“You asked for it.”

He doesn’t silence you. Quite the opposite—he pulls even louder moans from your lips as he grips your thigh, pushing you open and thrusting into you with a single, forceful motion. burying himself to the hilt inside your dripping cunt. The way you’re already wet makes it easier, though you're still so tight that Viktor has to pause, his face pressing into the crook of your neck as he collects himself. The sensation of your velvety warmth tightening around him, enveloping him so perfectly, is almost too much to bear.

Then, he braces your hips and begins to move—slow and steady at first, but with growing intensity.

Moans rise and fall from your lips along with the rhythm of his thrusts, growing sharper as he goes harder and deeper. His tip hits that perfect spot inside you every time, grinding against it with relentless precision, drawing gasps and shivers from you, your whole body trembling from the pleasure building inside you, coiling tighter with each push.

Your voice cuts off  when Viktor captures your lips in a bruising kiss, mouths and tongues tangled, the taste of him like coffee, his scent a heady mix of sweat, metal, and chemicals. Everything about him makes your head spin.

Viktor may be a scientist, methodical and precise in every thought and action when he’s working. But in bed, he lets go. Here, he moves on instinct alone, hips snapping forward in steady, punishing rhythm. And the moment he feels your inner walls clenching tighter around him, his control slips even further. He grunts low in his throat, pace turning rough and uncoordinated, lips abandoning your mouth in favor of your neck. He kisses along the frantic pulse under your skin, dragging his teeth over sensitive flesh, leaving fresh marks wherever he can reach.

You melt beneath him, every inch of you yielding to his touch. Your hips lift to meet his every thrust, bodies tangled and pressed so close there’s no telling where one ends and the other begins. The room fills with the sounds of their fervent coupling, the slap of skin against skin, and your moans mixing with him echoing through the room.

He starts to lose his rhythm, thrusts growing uneven and frantic as the edge pulls him closer. He’s close—so close—and he knows you are too. Just a little more. His hand slips down, thumb finding your clit, circling and pressing the sensitive bud in sync with his driving thrusts. The dual sensations—of being filled and rubbed, stretched and stroked—short-circuit your mind. all of friction igniting sparks of ecstasy that race along your nerves. You arch with a gasp, clutching at him when suddenly your climax crashes into you like a tidal wave, a sharp cry tearing from your throat louder than before, eyes rolling back as intense pleasure seizes your entire body in a blinding surge. consumed by all-encompassing bliss.

The sound of your voice, the way you clamp down around him is more than enough.

With a final string of ragged thrusts, Viktor follows, groaning against your shoulder as he spills into you. His cock pulsing as he empties himself deep inside your clinging heat. Jet after jet of hot seed coated your sticky walls, his hips jerk with the aftershocks, then finally still. He rests his head there, letting out a long, shuddering breath. Neither of you has ever minded finishing inside; Viktor knows you’ve never once missed a dose of birth control.

For a while, he just stays there, catching his breath. His body still quivers with the afterglow, and he can tell you’re just as wrecked. Both of you lie there in silence, panting, drained from the intensity of what just happened. Too tired to speak. Too blissed out to think. The only thing left is the quiet gaze you share.

Eventually, Viktor slowly pushes himself up, bracing on one arm, though he doesn’t pull away. He’s still inside you. His eyes roam over you, studying every detail: the mess of your hair, the sweat glistening on your skin, the steady rise and fall of your chest. You look completely undone, and yet you’re breathtaking. So beautiful that he can't tear his eyes away.

Then suddenly, something inside him bursts without warning.

“I love you,” Viktor murmurs, his voice low and trembling as he presses his forehead to yours. He inhales deeply, as if the weight of his feelings is too much to bear. “Please don’t leave me. Stay with me,” he whispers again, this time his voice thick with raw emotion. “You’re everything to me. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

The image of the cold, unfeeling scientist who once lived for nothing but his work is gone. Now, he’s just a man—desperate, pleading, terrified you’ll walk away.

He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His arms wrap tightly around you, as if even the slightest distance might make you slip through his fingers forever.

“Are we... good now?” Viktor asks as he pulls away, his eyes soft with yearning. He is trying everything he can to coax a bit of forgiveness from you.

You let out a tired, breathless laugh, half amused and half exasperated. Though your expression says he’s being ridiculous, your touch tells a different story. Your hand moves gently over his shoulder, fingers trailing across the sweat-damp skin with quiet affection.

“Alright, fine. I forgive you,” you say affectionately, poking his nose. “But you’re still annoying, just so you know.

“I probably am,” he replies with a relieved smile, grateful beyond words that you’ve finally forgiven him. “But we’ve made up now. No take-backs. That’s final.”

He studies you again, then reaches up to brush a damp lock of hair from your forehead. His fingertips linger as he caresses your cheek with a gesture so tender it makes your breath catch.

And in that moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have been given a second chance.

He knows he doesn’t deserve you. Not even close. But he’s far too selfish to let you go.

“I know I’m not exactly the best boyfriend,” he whispers against your skin, planting soft kisses all over your face. “I’ve got plenty of flaws, and I drive you crazy more often than not. But I’m not going anywhere. And I promise I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” He lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes filled with sincerity. Then his voice turns playful. “So you better get used to me, Milaček. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

After a while of cuddling, Viktor finally, reluctantly rolls off you and lies down beside you. But even then, he pulls you back into his arms, unwilling to let you go. Your head comes to rest against his chest, where you can hear the steady beat of his heart. He places his chin atop your head and closes his eyes for a moment. “Just try breaking up with me again. I dare you.”

“Oh yeah? And what would you do if I did?” you tease, your voice full of playful defiance.

Viktor squints at you, grinning slyly as he tightens his hold. “I’d just do this all over again. As many times as it takes until you change your mind.” His hand glides over your thigh, massaging gently near the sensitive spot he’s just thoroughly explored. The touch makes you jolt from overstimulation, and in retaliation, you nip his earlobe, drawing a low growl from his throat.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” you tease, giggling softly before nestling back against his chest. You breathe in the faint scent of sweat clinging to his skin, strangely comforted by it. “But for tonight, let’s just stay like this. I want a quiet cuddle. Let’s save the arguing and round two for another night.”

Viktor can feel how exhausted you are in the way your body relaxes and melts into his embrace. His hand strokes your back slowly, coaxing you toward sleep. “Goodnight, Milaček,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and lingering there for a long while. 

Once he’s sure you’re truly asleep, he shifts carefully to make you more comfortable, then reaches down to pull the blanket up over both of you.

He knows he should get some sleep too. He has to be at work early, with a thousand tasks waiting for him. But his mind refuses to settle. He lies awake in the dark, eyes fixed on the ceiling, replaying the night’s events again and again.

He almost lost you.

The thought terrifies him more than anything ever has. It’s a kind of fear he’s never known before. So he reminds himself over and over that you’re still here. Still in his arms. Still his.

Viktor knows he’s never been the easiest person to be with. Reserved, withdrawn, too wrapped up in his work to truly connect with people, he’s pushed others away for most of his life, sometimes without even realizing it. And he never cared who stayed or left.

But not you.

You’ve always been a part of him. His other half. But he never truly saw how deeply you were rooted in his life. He didn’t realize how much you meant to him until he almost lost you.

Now he has another chance, and he swears he won’t make the same mistake twice.

The road ahead won’t be easy. Even after everything you’ve been through together, there are still things you’ll both need to work on. There will be days when you’ll make him want to pull his hair out, or when he’ll drive you up the wall. But Viktor is ready for that. He’s ready to fix things and do better every single day, because you matter more to him than anything. Even his work.

You are the best thing that has ever happened to him. And he’s never letting go.

He listens to the steady rhythm of your breathing. The quiet presence of you beside him eases the tightness in his chest. Slowly, he begins to relax, and his eyes finally drift closed. He exhales, surrendering to the pull of sleep. But even as drowsiness settles over him, his mind keeps moving, quiet and focused on tomorrow.

Viktor has made up his mind.

Starting tomorrow, he’s going to change.

And for the first time in years, he’s taking a day off. Just to be with you. To savor every moment of the second chance you’ve given him.

『• • • ✎Footnotes • • •』

[1] Zlato is a Czech word meaning darling, gold, or something precious.

[2] Koloušek is a Czech word meaning little deer and can be used as a term of endearment. (In this fic, Viktor never calls the reader 'Koloušek,' before, but uses it here to be affectionate, like 'Please don’t leave me, my little deer.')

[3] Miláček is a Czech word meaning "darling" or "beloved." It is commonly used as a warm and affectionate way to refer to a loved one or someone who is important in one's life.

[gangplanksorenji]

Pulchritude

Pairing: ITZY’s Yeji x Male Reader

Word Count: 7,089

A/N: It's been a while Orenjideul! This wasn't planned to be on my draft schedule but planned at the same time LOL (pretty much quickly written). Also, thanks for @mintwithchoco for the beta-reading that made the insights about the fic!!

This was originally part of something I've been working on with and expanded it with such vague plot to probably spice things up. Enjoy reading!! <3

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“You’re crazy for this one, Chaewon.”

“It’s not my doing—” Chaewon retorts, circling her fingers onto the rim of her glass with such a distinctive smell of a concoction that piques you, distracting you a little from her words. “—this is just a part of a test.”

She drinks from her glass and darts her eyes towards you, laced with anticipation and that hint of doubt in you. You smirk with her given stare, feeling that she's getting ahead of herself with it and she’ll soon eat up her words. Extending your arm a little onto the head of the chair, you look at her with vanity and such a playful intent that intimidates her a little. “I’d say you being here is somewhat helpful by all means…”

“And why is that?” 

Her eyes never fail to intimidate you, those orbs glowing in anticipation as she doesn't break her sophisticated demeanor. You fix your posture and lean closer to her, elbows on the table and your hands subtly clasped, answering her. “So I could let you know that you’ll be embarrassed at the end of the day.”

Chaewon’s hubris wouldn’t let your words slide and make her believe you, a chortle audible within your ears as she shifted onto her usual phlegmatic disposition. “We’ll see about that but for now—” Her well-manicured nails click the champagne glass two times, before giving a sly smile of a faulty sincerity. “—you gotta do what you gotta do.”

It wouldn’t end in a usual Chaewon fashion unless her drink is empty, sipping the last few milliliters of that delectable concoction, then getting off on her seat with her last words of the night. “Text me when you’ve done it, then we'll meet tomorrow afternoon.”

Grabbing her designer bag then leaving towards the doors of such a high-class bar, you could just sense the air reeking defeat all over you, but you’ll prove her wrong. You’ll just thank yourself for getting rid of her condescending nature albeit it really fuels your aim for victory, so is the upbeat music the bar brings. 

You’ll make things work and take that triumphant ecstasy up to your name, with someone’s panties on the floor. 

“I guess we need the devil inside me to take over.” Of course you will, and you’ll do that just about right.

---

Maybe the myths are true: sometimes, the devil does unspeakable things and it’s only a matter of time before it unveils its real nature. Not exactly an excerpt, a quote or the sayings of the elderly but mostly your own common conscience that has its own intersections of roads you can’t fathom nor follow—deep inside, you’re on a leash and Chaewon’s words intoxicates you, and you’ll prove her wrong after this. 

“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”

“Oh, do you think we will?” You ask pretty playfully and audaciously, playing with her possible games. You barely know her aside from being that time where you’d constantly steal glances with her during and after Chaewon’s existence at the bar and subconsciously know you’d always come. At that moment, you know something’s disturbed within you and it’s in a good way—this is something that’s completely going to serve gratification, and you can sense how strong your gut feeling is.

“We will.” The girl inches herself closer towards you, your back pressed against the cold concrete as she pins you with her frame, fidgeting her fingers onto the hem of your shirt and then the penultimate, such dexterous fingers circling around your chest.

You feel her minty breath mixed with a hint of tequila brush against your skin as you raise her head, eyes in contact with yours—you know she’s proving something, even just with her words but those wouldn’t be enough.

“Care for an introduction?” Your hands fancy its way onto her waist, as you endearingly looked at those sharp, monolid eyes of hers rivaling that alluring stare. 

Her eyes dart between your face and onto your body, as her voice speaks up in a volume.“Yeji. You can call me Yeji.” 

Her voice invites you, and you’re captivated with her sultry tone and god, that stare of hers would make any man fall upon your own judgment but on your shoes, it would bear such a challenge. Even with such temptation handled pretty well, you can’t help but hint such an invitation under her spell—those eyes, her sultry voice, such a beautiful face and the promised treasure of them all, her impeccable figure.

You’d like to start on something fresh, induce such a new chapter that’s bound to end up in such an incredible fashion but you could only assume those things, yet.

Well, you won’t fight yourself over some idiotic retaliation between your temptations and let yourself be the judge of her capabilities and this doesn’t help when she’s just inches away from laying such a mark that will define one’s lust.

Looking straight to the abyssal void of her eyes, you’re enticed as you lift off her chin with your finger. “There you go, I love a woman with manners.” You hit her up with her own medicine: tempting.

“Who says anything about manners?” Even such chagrins or predicaments wouldn’t stop her, not unless you tell her so as the only thing you could feel are those luscious lips locked against yours. 

The sounds of such muscle creating vacuum of sounds and suctions overpowers the fading noise of the music the bar resonates—all you can hear is her kisses up against yours and you’d love to listen to it all day. 

Nothing too short nor sweet, but god, this was enough to make such a bold verdict.

“A talented kisser, hm?” Yeji hums as she pulls away from your lips’ embrace, feeling captivated with the way you display such talent.

“A girl as pretty as you would make a man like this.” Your hands then freely roam to the limited skin her waist shows but you’re not the guy to complain, but to be grateful. “Now tell me something, Yeji…”

Yeji’s eyes widen; pupils dilate as she anticipates your next words, “Tell what?”

You smirk, as your buttons were pressed enough to make such a bold move. “Why would you want me? From all of the people there, why me?”

Yeji smirks just like you, then bites her lips, using such a modicum of her actions to indulge you even more. “I just know the world destined us to this moment—led us to this moment and god…” Yeji’s hands unbuttons the topmost button of your shirt as her hands permeate such heat onto your chest to push you onto the edge. “I know what you’re gonna give to me tonight.”

Such telepathic abilities enable you to read her thoughts, and you know exactly where she’s going towards, “Let me guess, a show for the world to know?”

“For the world to fucking know.” Yeji’s words end your sentence, and seal the deal.

Licking her lips in delight, you can feel her hands roam on your chest, your abdomen then the final stop, your growing bulge. She cups onto it like it’s something she would ruin and take care of, the best of both worlds as you let out such a nigh-inaudible moan, and Yeji knows exactly you’re liking this.

“You always need to ask.” And there she goes with her wonders.

All you can see is Yeji promptly getting on her knees, and with her absolute dexterity, does her talent to unbuckle and undress your bottom half more than a count to ten.

“God…” She’s mesmerized with the view she’s currently having: you, still in your boxers as her disposition clearly displays awe and amazement. “You’re hard already this fast? Must’ve turned you on too much?”

“Who wouldn’t with a girl like you?” It just shows your evident arousal, and Yeji’s grateful to bear such an entrance. Giving the green light, she then slowly strips off your boxers down to your ankles, mostly gravity doing the work and there she goes, such eyes gleaming with utter hunger and lust.

Her lips mouth such words full of awe as her hands cups the base of your erection, leisurely stroking it as she utters such profanity, “God, your cock is something else I didn’t expect.”

Your hubris just elevated, and let your commanding demeanor take over. “Glad it is. Now, show me what you’re made of.”

She wouldn’t lose against such a hubristic battle, and settles up for a possibly stellar moment. “I won’t disappoint.”

A clear view of her lips sends pecs around your length, letting you know the immediate worshiping and carnal needs fueling her for the time being. From the base up to your already leaking slit, she didn’t waste such precious time letting you know how much she loves this and it's just evident from the start. 

She grows impatient with her repetitive kisses and ups the ante, knowing how this will make your world go wild. “I may just find myself occupied more with this.”

“Less talking and more sucking.” As much as her patience grows thinner by the second, and so are yours. She scoffs off a giggle, knowing that the main event will be such a roller coaster ride.

With the last suction of her lips collecting that colorless liquid, she advances onto something pleasurable. Her tongue then dances around your red cockhead, swirling and permeating her saliva around, upping such sensitivity on your end and with that result, you shiver and inevitably moan in response.

She suckles on your swollen head, then advances past your frenulum to do the wonder she does to your slit and god, this was elevating the experience of such gratification.

“God, s-such a talented mouth, huh?”

“Gifted, I guess.” She continues her oral assault on your throbbing length, thrusting her head up and down as she quickly accelerates the pace up to both your likings. 

The quicker speed sums up the possible experience she has and it shows—such technique is unmatched with the way her tongue dances around your shaft and the little introduction of such a serrated culprit antagonizing the pleasure you’re experiencing, albeit, you wouldn’t bother with such little pain. She takes more than half of your shaft as spits dominate her heart-shaped lips, running down to her cheeks and onto her chin which shows the passion she’s giving in every second.

The occurrence won’t be complete without elevated stimulation: you’d just feel your balls being fondled by her right hand as she encourages more for you to feel. 

And it’s working well, too well for you to utter such compliments. “You’d make myself occupied too, i-if you want—shit, that’s great…”

An audible mhmm can be heard between her bobs as she elevated the speed, then resulting into such a mess that’s just turning you on even more. Saliva continues to drip down onto her chin and onto your clothes that’s probably damned to be given care with, tears flowing down her cheek as she takes more and suddenly, she tests her limits with a single act of boldness and bravery.

She rests her nose onto your abdomen, testing her gag reflex as she’s determined to tame it but in the end, it wasn’t in her favor. Gasps escape her mouth as she catches her breath, saliva connected onto those sinful lips was just the cherry on top yet your grow little concern, afraid she may push herself too much as soon as she coughed. “You good, Yeji?”

“I’m good—I’m good, I’m g-great—your cock is just addicting.” The succulence was evident with her repeated slurps onto your shaft, and you’re just in total bliss with her performance.

Things are not done, and she’d like to end the business with a good note.

She proved herself enough and with her immediate harsh pace, you wouldn’t be a hypocrite nor lie about it. The blurry orange-bobbing head of hers just becomes a repeated image tarnished in your brain, etched until the end of time. She continues what she’s best at, gripping your thighs for further display of talent and as a reply with the surging pleasure coursing through your veins, you opted to fight the leverage with the gripping of your hands onto her audacious head.

Constant slurps, gags and moans just became the music in the air and it’s just the paramount mood you're indulged into. You’d be damned if someone will see the both of you in such a sinful act but you don’t care anymore, not when Yeji’s mouth does explicit wonders on every inch of your body and clouding your mind with such sinful thoughts.

The head game is literally onto another level of experience, but such things wouldn’t last for so long.

She can feel your persistent throbs in her mouth, and it’s a common courtesy to ask where it will end. “You’re pretty close, I assume.”

“Yeah—” You groan in pleasure as she strokes your saliva-sheathed cock with the utmost pace her hands can muster. “—and I want it all over your face.”

Yeji just smiled mischievously, knowing how things will end up on a pivotal climax and how things will unveil between the both of you. “Then do it—cover me.”

All you can see are those pretty, sharp eyes in awe as she closes it, her visage in full display for you to paint on. This is a canvas worth investing such artwork on  and you’d besmirch it with such strokes worth millions. She moans as she feels each rope touches her face, mostly her cheeks, nose, lips, chin and some even getting onto her hair. Those fifteen seconds felt like a minute as you’re in a total state of bliss and for such a conclusion, she strokes you in hopes of milking you dry, emptying up your reservoir.

“God, that tasted great.” Yeji licks her lips and hums in satisfaction and when your senses are coming back to life, you ask her with such doubt.

“How would you clean up?”

Yeji chuckles as she stands up, facing you, “No one wouldn’t care.”

You smile sincerely as you dress your bottom-half up, satisfied as her voice invites you. “Let’s get out of here.”

She’s partly a monster; partly an angel in disguise, yet she can be the best of both worlds and it’s only a matter of time before depths will be reached.

---

Gone are the boisterous music ringing repeatedly in your ears and the alcohol that will probably dominate your body, because at this time, there’s nothing better than her lips locked against yours for the second time.

She feels ruthless and so were you, feeling her tongue dancing against yours and you gripping her waist harshly as you deepen such entanglement.

Her room was something pivotal about your already impeding arousal: dim lights, vanilla-scented air freshener and such a balcony for the both of you to enjoy, and maybe it’s something else than what’s usually known for people to do there.

“Never knew you could have such a room, Yeji.”

Yeji smirks as her nails dug into your skin gently, pressing it playfully as she mouthed her own pride. “This is nothing compared to anything you’ll see but for now, you’ll be more than my guest.” And then her eyes locked up against yours as those orbs wandered around your beautiful face.

Her eyes really tell you about her adoration, as the earlier test was just the tip of the iceberg, and guess what, you passed with flying colors.

“I’d love to be one, Yeji.”

You then share another torrid kiss with her, feeling attached to her ultimately and falling under her spell. She kisses you genuinely as you reciprocate, but you want more, so you pull out of her lips’ embrace, earning a moan from her as you find your way on peppering her neck with pecs and those sharp collar bones. 

You’d eventually take a glance of her flawless features, even though it’s evident ruined by you earlier but it’s such an important element of such undying beauty. You earned your minuscule rewards—her faint moans and chants calling you—and you’d love to double it, with more skin, your lips parts and marks.

“God, please—fuck…” Yeji’s pleas are audible enough for you to be distracted and it’s worth your while knowing it’s something that could elevate such an experience.

“Please what, Yeji?” You continue pecking her creamy, porcelain skin, suckling on it but not enough to result in hickeys and god, it just resulted in sexier moans escaping her lips. 

She’s struggling to articulate words that can formulate her wants, but she’d put up an end to such a clouding demise. “I want more—god—more, please…”

You grip her waist harsher, gaining such control as you pin her harder onto the wall and what a poor soul whimpering upon your own dominative assertion. You grant her needs as you caress her waist while peppering her with torrid kisses, resulting in such a cacophonous symphony that you would cherish hearing every second. 

You wanted more from her and her answer still made your satisfaction resting onto a low zero. “What do you want from me, baby?”

The word elicits a gasp from her mouth, feeling appalled with such a name she always finds hot and funnily enough, the stars are aligning. 

She whimpers but manages to think clearly and didn’t hesitate to be vocal about it, “Your cock, please—” 

As she’s about to advance her hands onto your clothes crotch, you stop her as you shake your head leisurely, having another plan in mind. “No—have some patience and also…” Yeji’s eyes scintillate beneath the dim light that appears as she’s anticipating what words could leave your mouth. “I gotta return the favor.” 

Your hands roamed its way onto the hem of her tight skirt, and asked such a question she can’t deny. “May I?”

She hitched a broken breath and gulped as she responded intimately, “Yes—yes, you can.”

Your fingers ran towards the edge of her skirt and eventually found the zipper and did such wonders, things that could easily soothe her and make her more comfortable. As much as you wanted to see it down on the floor, revealing her probably wet panties, you have other thoughts about your own, selfish arousal.

“Don’t want it on the floor?”

“This outfit, Yeji—” Your left hand then forced her figure pressed onto yours as she yelped with your immediate action, earning a startled whimper as her eyes looked at you like it’s her favorite candy. She loves your subtle harsh acts, and she won’t be deprived of any since this was just a gentle introduction. “—looks amazing on you.”

Yeji smiles as the compliment strokes her ego and how genuine you sounded, “Thanks, for—ooh, gosh!”

She yelped with your touch permeating on her legs as you roamed your hands towards her clothed regions which earned such a sultry, needy moan from Yeji. You can feel the heat that’s rivaling your cold hands and as the cherry on top, her wetness evident from her slit which is probably leaking right from the start.

You loosen up the zip of her skirt and god, she vocalizes how better it felt and maybe it’s mostly because of the fact that your fingers are pleasuring her crotch against that fine silk that’s about to be ruined thanks to your dexterity. It was pursuant to her and wherever she wants it, you’re going to follow it and with her subsequent moans, you’d like to let her know that your skills are up to par. Feeling the hunger running down your body, you can’t help but share another kiss, but this time, it feels chaste since all of the attention and unfeigned emotions are translated down with your fingers. They both felt like deprived lions from the wild, and such an inevitable kiss will bound to feed the pleasure the both of you are needing.

The evident bulge pokes down on your pants and Yeji was quick to notice that, cupping it and caressing to tame the beast. You moaned with her actions and so she is, too, but it's a repeated chant in your ears as she pleads with you for your own comfort. “Your cock, please.”

You didn’t care anymore, and knowing how the both of you wanted this then you wouldn’t deny her for doing the same thing you’re great at. Even with pleasure lingering onto every lobe in her brain, it won’t stop her to claim her promised prize as you help her undress your bottom-half, unbuckling your belt as she does the last step and all you can feel are your defenses going down, one by one as the raging beast that’s inside that clothed prison is about to be unshackled. 

The wait was worth it and the both of you are now in such a vulnerable state that a single touch would make a writhe or shiver as sensitivity is the culprit. Yeji’s fingers are on point and dexterous as expected—the way she danced her hands around your shaft, stroking it in a corkscrew motion is making you feel such bliss that’s unmatched and god, the scene is just hot.

You never thought the sight of the both of you masturbating would be so damn arousing and thought it was just some myth but yet again, hypocrisy is eliminated within the time being.

“God—you really can’t wait, huh?” 

“How can I? We need to mutually feel the same.” Yeji knows her pursuit against your aching beast wasn’t going to bother you, but rather the opposite. Her strokes were going livid as you groan with the lack of lubrication but it was exchanged by the pleasure that she gives you and of course, you wouldn’t lose onto this game and did the same, possibly vibrating your fingers and you maintain such an up and down motion which inevitably elicits such visceral moan from her.

The both of you did your best with your own expertise, doing such sinful things without even the main event is honestly criminal, and you would hold onto that because you want to make use of this and you’d prove to her you’re as good as she is.

“You’re fucking dripping, Yeji—god, did I turn you on so much?” Possibly a rhetorical question or maybe not, but either way, you know she’ll be a little irritated enough to defend her claim and quit such hypocrisy.

“N-No shit—you’re that talented too, huh?” You smile with her inadvertent compliment as you avert your eyes through her clothed crotch and it’s being ruined with her own doing, leaving such a masterpiece of clothing worthless, spoiled with her own juices.

“A natural, more likely—ah!” You yelp with Yeji’s sudden squeeze of your shaft in between her strokes as you glare at her playfully, her face then forming such a seductive smirk then a little scoff with your confidence. 

“You’re cocky too? God, you’re such a rare gem.”

A rare find, you suppose which is truly the truth—you’ll prove to her that there’s no one she can find that will be better than you. Your impatience is growing thinner by the second even with such a hot mess between both your crotches, and you’d let her know about your frustrations and needs.

“Yeji, I need to fuck you now.”

The tone is commanding, your face stern and her eyes widen with those simple words of need. Your eyes meet hers and they never lie—those glowing orbs of yours didn’t cease the exhilaration you’re feeling and she’s the one to blame. 

As much as it hurts for the both of you to stop, it will be rewarding once the climax settles in for such a spectacular show.

“How would you want me?” Yeji’s voice was bubbly but still hinting at that lace of seduction, being the alluring vixen that she is. 

“Strip that skirt, lay onto your stomach, and lastly, feet onto the floor.”

She is as thrilled as you are, and immediately puts up a show but doesn't go further without a question for such clarification, “Don’t you wanna see me naked?”

You would want to, but not now.

“Just the skirt, please. Everything else, on.” Commanding and straight to the point, just how you wanted all along. 

There were no complaints or the fact she’s abstaining from this command of yours, and in fact, it maybe even made it hotter. The way she’s seductively teasing and pulling her zipper until gravity does the job, it’s just a sight to behold and the final product left you in awe: the ruined black silk panties in such alongside the scribbled pattern of her stocking that just made the sight sizzle it complete heat that she emanates (figuratively).

“Like what you see?” She turns around then again, showing you her perfect figure all with your eyes to feast on as you were a step away from your final prize.

“Yes, now please turn around and lay on your stomach like I said.”

Your imperative nature sets herself in a position of reluctance but then shifts onto an immediate opposite. She does what she was told and wiggles her ass leisurely to invite you with a temptation to ruin her and even though if she won’t be vocal about it, you'd make it so that she won't be able to walk until the next day.

Yeji looks back onto her shoulder and lets out such profanity words, “Make a mess out of me—I don’t break easily.”

You won’t be convinced until you try it yourself but looking at her robustness and skills earlier, you might have to be biased with your judgment. “We’ll see about that.”

Completely kicking your garments to god knows where, you’re now in a better state of control as you tease her wet folds, earning a whimper that becomes uncontrollable as soon as you sink your finger against her raging heat. 

You can’t wait no more, you absolutely can’t because you’re dying to know what she feels like and with her last bit of defense out of your way, it’s time to do the unthinkable.

Now parting her supple legs with your hands, your eyes feast on her impeccable figure then onto that delicious cunt that’s making you drool. Unable to contain your enjoyment and your fantasies against her, you caught her by surprise with an unexpected twist—probably the twist that you’re involved in would be your tongue lathering her folds and tasting the escaping nectar that she produces.

It was succulent and you dived in it easily as the musky, floral scent of her tight cunt invites you, and you didn’t waste time as this was a golden opportunity. You wanted to tease her just for the sake of stimulation, playing a game with her ramping orgasm building up but you’d reckon the opposite and such pace ensued impatiently.

“Fuck! Such a t-talented mouth—fuck!” Yeji’s whines were coherent enough for you to increase the pace and double your efforts—you wish to let her reach her denied climax earlier with your fingers and your mouth. It wasn’t far off as you can feel her juices forming a rivulet onto her labia and spreading onto your chin and mouth, knowing how incredibly close she can be. She calls you repeatedly, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip it but it can’t and you eat her out with an effort that no one can rival.

A single wail is what it took before she screams, and there goes your long-chased win within a second away—

“I’m going to cum—” Surprisingly short and articulate, you let her give everything she has and there she goes—

Yeji’s orgasm comes in quickly as soon as she mutters those desperate words, and she immediately lays waste as she constantly spews liquid after liquid onto her sheets which instantly gets ruined. The both of you didn’t care about it but rather mind your own business while you still extended her climax, achieving such heights of her vocals.

“God—just fuck m-me now, please…”

Your cock is aching and throbbing in need, and with the penultimate action making her see such stars, it’s time for the last and the main event to take place.

You ask her if she’s in good condition and she didn’t bother to assure you, so with her green light, you stepped onto the throttle and gave in to your deepest, carnal desires.

Standing up, you then give her backside a last look before you plunge your length inside her wet hole and immediately groan with its tightness, feeling like her walls are gripping your shaft with a Herculean effort that probably was the blessing in disguise. 

“You’re fucking tight, Yeji—this feels just right.” And it is too right to be true, and you love it.

“Stretch me out—fuck, you’re crazy.”

Lust ignites you and it serves such an everlasting fuel for what’s bound to happen, and you give in just like that. You started off slow, letting her get accustomed to your length as you bury the entirety of your shaft then withdraw with just the tip inside, showing such penetration that could make any girl’s mind go haywire.

It’s starting to get to her slowly in every thrust you do—the utter pleasure your cock brings was phenomenal and with her small whines could determine how she’s really feeling deep inside. She grips onto the bedsheets like her life depends on it and it’s only going to get better once you manage such a pace that will make her think of you and you only.

Her cunt tightens once you spanked that pristine skin of hers and then called out to let her know something, “I’ll own this cunt until you see the stars above, do you understand?”

Between her wails of pleasure is her ephemeral nod with your question, unable to speak up due to the stimulation that’s coursing through her. Every stroke you do causes such slaps that adds to the orchestra of her moans that can be possibly heard outside as her room is too puny to shackle such sinful sounds of sex. You grip her hips harshly and increase your pace, making you moan on how she clenches her velvety walls once your length hits it balls-deep inside her.

“Want me to be rough, Yeji?” You hammer your hips in a velocity that’s making her brain in shambles, unable to mutter a response after a second in which you didn’t like.

A small punishment would do the job, but this is rewarding for her and a statement by yours. “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

Her breaths are ragged between your thrusts as she cries with your immediate barrage of spanks, causing her to finally answer you even with her mind unable to achieve such clear articulacy. “Yes, p-please—I want it, ow!”

Another spank onto those pristine skin of hers never fails to make you throb with how it jiggled with such harshness, and the marks that’s finally imprinted on the soft skin tells such roughness. As she grows accustomed with your length due to her repeated chants of pleasure, you quickly opted for what could raise such an experience.

If her mind is ultimately clouded with you and can’t think straight, then you’re the opposite, clearly adapting to the situation.

“Yeji…”

“Wha—ooh! Mffh—mmh!” Ragged breaths leave her mouth as she struggles to breath with what you’ve done—you opted for a leverage that asserts your domination over her making the long, black lace at the back of her neck deemed as a leash rather than an aesthetic of her outfit. She probably liked the fact of such risking playing between life and death thanks to the asphyxiation and it didn’t stop you, but rather prove a point. 

“You like being choked and used, slut?” Your words just made Yeji elicit more moans as she’s being tamed, controlled by you and god, the way she’s creaming against your rapidly ramming length tells you about her satisfaction. The sheets will probably rip off no matter how durable they are and lastly, it will be soaked with her own juices and that’s thanks to your own doing. Her feet then raise up in the air as you give a better angle of penetration, switching between the black lace and onto her legs for leverage.

Even though she's barely stripped from her clothing, her clothes really compliments her figure and you’d like to take this mental picture and etch it on the deepest parts of your brain—something worth remembering until the end of time. The way that she's a disheveled, ruined mess right now just fuels you to break her in half and you’re not going to stop until you’ve fulfilled such destiny.

You wanted your hands to be occupied onto something and not being idle most of the time and with such a completely ruined mess of a girl she is now, you’d love to add more of it. You then grab her wrists and command her to arch her back, in which she complies and immediately, your hands reach onto those perky breasts of hers with the clothing still in the way. You caress them and Yeji can vouch she could feel such intensity even with such stellar clothing being a nuisance but there’s nothing to worry about, not when you’re giving her absolutely everything to feel.

You didn’t stop there as you leaned your frame closer to her while hammering her tight cunt repeatedly and utter the words, “This cunt is mine now, Yeji.”

She nodded and exclaimed a faint yes as you gave her pecs onto her shoulders, letting her know how much you love every single inch of hers and how you’re marking your own territory. Between your kisses is a feeling that something’s building up and you can feel it with the way her walls pulsate around your shaft—you know she's close and it’s up for you to let her wants prevail.

There wasn’t any choice and you love to see Yeji writhe as you give her such thrusts before her cardinal end. 

“I know you’re dying to cum—” You invite her to give in as she moans with your words, urging such a release that could let her see the things you wanted her to have a sight of. “—so cum on this cock. Cum for me.”

Your words act like a lever that opens up her reservoir and it feels like a tsunami surging around your length. With multiple cries to spare, you wanted to make her feel something exquisite while achieving her own orgasm, letting you finger avert her chin facing you, against her shoulder as you kissed her lips intimately. Time felt slow as the both of you locked lips and to ride off her high, you slowed down because you still wanted her to feel such intense gratification through her awaited climax.

“I n-never felt that good in my entire life.” Yeji’s breaths were jagged, as she recovers from her orgasm even with your lengthy still penetrating and possibly destroying her insides. Even with a possibly mind-fucked Yeji, she knew what you wanted all along and didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Aren’t you close?”

“Well, if you didn’t cum, I would’ve come first.”

An audible gasp resonated in your ears as it piqued her willingness to help you, and it was evident in her tone. “I could feel it too—just fuck me silly again and just cum.”

She recovered fast because of the evident change of her tone, and you, still a bit puzzled and hesitant knowing she may want a load deep inside her. “Don’t want it inside—”

“Then do it in my mouth—you fucking which hole is now your choice.”

Her invitation is just persuasive and alluring and it never fails you to fall a victim for. Knowing how she wanted it, as much as you wanna bother such another session being between her legs, you’d want to fulfill her wants and it’s safer with the help of a great oral ending.

“On your knees then, and open your mouth. I’m going to fuck your face.” You let her position and prepare herself for what's about to come as surprisingly, her legs are still working fine after all of the havoc you’ve brought into her.

Yeji closes her eyes, her mouth agape, ready for the taking as you stroke your length in its absolute vigor and there she goes, taking you again for the second time. This time, you take control by grabbing her ponytail that’s shockingly intact even with the ruckus you made her be in earlier. She’s taking you like a good girl as you ram into her face with abandon, skin slapping signaling the constant harshness you bring and it is perfect. She gagged and you didn’t care, yet she managed to tame it but wasn’t successful as always—you praised her attempts and wasn’t close to being futile. Her nails dug into the skin of your thighs as she let it be the leverage onto your constant rummage in her throat, and she welcomed every thrust with a gleeful demeanor, locking her gaze towards you.

She cries, tears running down her cheek as she was a disheveled mess and you’re proud of what you’ve done. You could feel the familiar sensation tingling near your stomach and a better way to end such a monumental note is giving everything you can. 

The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, as such velocity is unparalleled, hammering her tight throat like it’s her cunt and within seconds from her last gag you could feel everything coming down to this moment. Here it goes: Yeji chokes yet manages to keep your length all the way in, you groaning and calling her name like a chant and of course, the awaited climax that filled her throat up to the brim. You stayed for five more seconds, burying your length as her arms writhe with her repeated gags and then, pulls out immediately, strings of saliva adding to the mess she is and of course, the image of Yeji almost choking out your load but manages to compose herself to swallow it all, humming gleefully as she not get to taste the entirety of your delicious load.

“Like I said—it’s fucking delicious—hah.” The both of you caught your own breaths yet Yeji shows the struggle evidently. Still on her knees, she managed to show what you’ve done as your reward and the last thing you just saw her go is gulp down all of it in one go, into her stomach. She initiated the last dance with her hands grabbing your shaft, then directing it onto her mouth in order to clean the mess she made onto it. You groan with the sensitive surge she brings you, thankfully her tongue doing the work but you don't complain as within seconds, she ends her oral assault and it makes you feel spectacular for a long while.

You cup her cheeks, admiring the glamorous mess you made in which she unhesitantly neaten with her utmost capabilities. “You’re so damn pretty, Yeji.”

“You too.”

It was mutual at this moment and you never knew it would end like this but her voice wants to tell you that something isn’t over, yet.

“Help me clean up?”

And it was a hint, just out of curiosity, you’ll probably pull the trigger because how can you not refuse her invitation?

---

After countless sleepless nights and tumultuous days, you find yourself at the top of the world, and what better way to end this is just to go home, lay down and reminisce what a day this has been.

“The lights are pretty, huh?” Yeji interrupts your moment with her voice, and she locks her eyes towards yours, staring deeply into your soul as you fall onto it yet manage to snap back to reality.

“Yeah, it is—also, I just can’t comprehend how we ended up this way.” Yeji’s on the same boat as you and you could feel it in your nerves. This felt like a fever dream and you loved every second of it.

“Maybe that’s how destiny works, huh?”

You scoff, as your lips curled up a faint smile and muttered, “Maybe it is and yeah, I should leav—”

“Leave?” Yeji pouts as she inches herself closer onto yours, holding your wrist as her tone hints at her disappointment. “Don’t you wanna bother and stay just for this night?”

You can’t resist her, you absolutely can’t as you don’t want to be the bearer of bad news that will make her feel awkward.

You have a choice and you’ll stick with that… in her favor.

You smile sincerely, and Yeji’s holistic demeanor appears, “Okay, how can I resist you?”

“Up for you to find out.”

Maybe she was good, but honestly, she’s great. She is partly a monster and partly an angel, and you’ll live in those worlds together as you find your soulless heart beating rapidly for the first time in a long while.

You’re completely invigorated, and you’ll embrace this new chapter that opened.

“She’s good, she’s good—she’s great.”

---

You continue ruminating about the day you’ve had, and every moment was worth remembering. You smiled in your victorious attempts, which is having her number on your phone and sleeping with her through the night. As Yeji does her hygiene in the bathroom, a buzz on your phone piques your attention, and it was no other than the devil that made yourself look like an angel despite what you descended yourself into.

kim_chaewon on 23:15 - “Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you huh? Well done with the second phase, meet me tomorrow afternoon for further details. Enjoy your night for now—we’re still not done.”

She received it damn well minutes ago and made her eat up her words, but you’re still clearly within the base of the iceberg, and you’re still starting your remarkable journey.

“Hah… Of course we aren’t…” There was no surprise with that as you muttered in response to her text.

Yet there are multiple questions lingering in your mind: How did she know about this? How would she know if you’re lying or not? What may happen tomorrow? How long will this take? 

You could never answer those unless you figure things out, and let Chaewon introduce you to more of what’s possible between both worlds: you and everyone else’s, including hers.