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holybibly · 1 year ago

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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.

𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.

𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.

You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary," before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed.

Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives. The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner.

"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.

You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted.

It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair.

"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once.

The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.

There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.

The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.

One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.

As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.

"Hello, my dear."

You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."

"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.

Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.

"Something like that."

"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.

"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.

Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.

"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?

"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.

"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.

Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?

"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.

"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.

Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.

"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"

"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."

There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.

His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?

"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."

"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.

"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."

A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.

"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."

"F-Father…"

"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "

You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"

"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.

Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.

"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."

He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.

"Shall I show you?"

"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.

"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"

You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.

He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.

"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?

He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.

"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.

The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.

"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.

He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.

"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.

"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."

"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.

"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.

You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.

You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.

"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."

You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.

As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.

Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.

"You have to undress completely, darling."

You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.

"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.

You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.

"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.

"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."

The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.

"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.

"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.

"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.

"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."

You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."

It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.

"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth.

Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.

"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.

Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.

He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.

"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.

"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"

You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."

You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.

"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.

"Look at me, my darling."

Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.

Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.

"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.

"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.

"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.

God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.

From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.

He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.

He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.

"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."

You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.

He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.

His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.

"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."

He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.

"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.

"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.

All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".

"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."

Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.

You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.

"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.

You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.

Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.

"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."

You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.

"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."

"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.

"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.

"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.

"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.

"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.

You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.

The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.

He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.

"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.

With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.

"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."

He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.

Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.

And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.

"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."

From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.

"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.

"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"

You lowered your eyes in shame.

He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."

"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."

"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."

Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.

It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.

"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.

"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.

He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.

"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.

"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.

Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.

"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"

"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.

"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.

Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind. "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."

1K notes · View notes

kroosluvr · 6 months ago

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look at my royal trio dawg im cooked

( joker and crow swap au, normal outfits here! )

notes???

crow feels a little "wild west" to me which is funny and i kinda like it... (i was about to add spurs to his boots but didnt bc ok maybe THAT doesnt make sense KFSHKDAJ) maybe its not 100% "crow"-like but its bird of prey vibes i think??!?! i like it heh. also added in the black ribbon so the carry over to sumire makes sense! (also since shujin!goro in this au has his hair up until 3rd sem rolls around) and kept princekechi's white gloves.. adds a kind of classy vibe i think with the other "rustic" ness of the outfit

JOKER (throws tomatoes at him) clown aesthetic joker my beloved. his mask is silly and half of it kinda hugs his cheek and the other flares out, kinda like a masquerade mask? and ofc his outfit is very bright white and flashy... and he keeps that kinda swept hair style. ofc he is a massive show-off and loves drawing attention... always flourishing his fluffy cape and all that. oh yeah keeping the red gloves was important to me O_O i think it adds to his clown-ness too.......

black mask: keeps the "half on" cloak look (though it's a tattered coat instead) and the cloak is attached to his bodysuit with red threads. marionnette kinda... alluding to how he's a puppet.... also callback to orig. black mask's stripes the way they crisscross over his costume (and also his 13290573928 belts). only half of it has the checkered pattern btw, like his joker outfit. the mask itself takes shape from satanael's horns! and the red star-like "choker" is from satanael's halo. same w the sillay little bat wings on the back of his booties. i think akira as black mask is way more showy than goro is, so the bright red on him makes sense i think?

violet <3 MY SPECIALEST GIRL i think codename rose for her is cheeky and cute. in my head since crow names himself / is named after the birdlike patterns of his outfit he volunteers the name rose for her based off the rose on her hip as well as her rose-like leotard/dress. also included some subtle callbacks to crow's outfit!

the true awakening violet design is smth i made up a while ago, and is also my true awakening alt design for like. canon violet. but the gold bits r silver now THATS IT BASICALLY i think the colorscheme is very serene and swanlike.. very elegant classy and suits her i think!!!

also this is all subject to change bc i highkey made half of this up at 6am yesterday night teehee bonk. LOVE ROYALTRIO FOREVER

ADDITIONALLY theres a lot of 4-point star/diamond shape patterns and that is because it is my crutch. SO SORRY. LKDSFJKLS459034902590

#goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #akira kurusu #persona 5 royal #royal trio #cele draws #swap au

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minoouz · 1 month ago

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Love, Unexpected ᜊ ‎ ── ‎ ( 심재윤 )

Pairing :: Jock!Sim Jaeyun x Shy!reader

𝐈 . Genre :: High school au

𝐈𝐈 . Word count :: 6k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 :: fluff, angst towards the end

Now, playing ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Out of Time ( The Weekend )

A/n :: made this for valentines day sorry yall are getting angst and fluff on valentines Day, but yeah, happy valentines Day, you all!!

Valentine’s Day had always been just another day for you.

While the rest of the school buzzed with excitement—couples exchanging gifts, confessions happening left and right, girls giggling as they delivered chocolates to their crushes—you stayed in your usual quiet corner of the library, watching from the sidelines.

You never expected to be a part of the chaos.

And you definitely never expected Jake Sim to sit next to you at lunch, smirking like he had all the time in the world.

"Hey, shy girl."

Your head snapped up, nearly choking on your drink. "W-What?"

Jake chuckled, resting his chin on his palm as he studied you. “Relax, I don’t bite. Just wanted to ask—did you get any valentines today?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “…No. Why?”

His smirk faltered for a brief second. “Really? Not even a secret admirer?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think anyone would—”

"Wrong."

Before you could process what was happening, Jake reached into his bag and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box with a red ribbon. Your name was written on a tiny heart-shaped tag—in his handwriting.

Your breath hitched. "This… is for me?"

"Obviously." He grinned, pushing it toward you. "Go on, open it."

With shaky fingers, you untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a delicate charm bracelet—a thin silver chain with a small heart and a football charm attached. Simple, but beautiful.

Your chest tightened. “Jake… why?”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because I like you.”

Your head snapped up, heart pounding. “What?”

Jake sighed, his usual confidence faltering. “Look, I know what people say about me. And yeah, maybe I used to mess around, but… I’ve never actually put effort into Valentine’s Day before.” His gaze softened. “You’re different, okay? I like you, and I want to do this right.”

Your mind raced. This had to be some kind of joke, right? There was no way Jake Sim, the biggest flirt in school, actually liked you.

Your silence must have worried him because he quickly added, “I’m not playing with you, I swear.”

You swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t get it. Why me?”

Jake let out a small, almost shy laugh. “Because you’re the only girl who doesn’t throw herself at me. You’re kind, smart, and way too cute for your own good.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “I notice you more than you think.”

Your heart clenched. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But a small voice in your head whispered doubts.

Would he get bored of you like he did with the others?

“Jake…” you started hesitantly, gripping the edge of the table. “What if I’m just another phase for you?”

His expression darkened, hurt flashing in his eyes. “You’re not.”

“You say that now, but what if you change your mind in a few weeks? I don’t—” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to be another girl you forget about.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

His hands clenched into fists on the table. “Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” His voice was firm, desperate. “I know I have a shitty reputation, but I swear to you, this isn’t some game. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your throat tightened. The sincerity in his voice, the way his usual cocky demeanor had crumbled, made you want to believe him.

“…What if I say yes?” you whispered.

His gaze softened. “Then I’ll prove to you every single day that you made the right choice.”

A long silence stretched between you, the sounds of the bustling cafeteria fading into the background.

Then, finally, you nodded. “O-Okay.”

Jake blinked. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah.”

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face—one that wasn’t cocky or teasing, just purely happy.

"Best. Valentine’s. Day. Ever."

And just like that, the school’s biggest playboy wasn’t a playboy anymore. Because for the first time, he had something real to fight for—you.

Dating Jake was nothing like you expected.

At first, it was overwhelming. People stared. Whispers followed you wherever you went. Girls sent you dirty looks in the hallways, some even going as far as asking what made you so special.

Jake, of course, didn’t care.

If anything, he loved showing you off—holding your hand in the halls, walking you to class, throwing an arm around your shoulders at lunch. He was sweet, attentive, and surprisingly patient.

And slowly, you started to believe him.

You let yourself fall.

You let yourself believe in the late-night phone calls, in the way he remembered the little things about you—how you took your coffee, your favorite songs, the way you hated the sound of pencils scratching against paper.

You let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you were different.

Until you weren’t.

It started with a shift.

Jake stopped texting first. Stopped calling. Stopped waiting for you at your locker.

He was still there, but not in the way he used to be. His kisses felt rushed, his mind elsewhere.

And then, the rumors started.

"Did you hear? Jake’s been hanging out with Mia again."

Mia. His ex. The one girl people swore he actually loved.

You didn’t want to believe it. You refused to. But then you saw them—standing in the parking lot, his arm slung around her shoulders, her hand resting on his chest like it belonged there.

Your heart cracked, but you still held on.

Until he gave you no choice.

"Y/N, we need to talk."

You knew those words. Knew what came next.

Still, you forced a smile. "Okay."

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t meet your eyes.

"I just… I don’t think this is working anymore."

Your fingers curled into fists. "Is it because of her?"

Jake flinched. "It’s not—"

"Don’t lie to me."

A long silence stretched between you before he exhaled, defeated. "I’m sorry."

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You didn’t cry—not in front of him. You refused to. Instead, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Jake’s eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe. Regret. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Because for the first time since meeting him, you finally understood.

You were never different.

You were just another girl he got bored of.

And that hurt more than anything.

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getalltheb1tches · 3 months ago

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TWO WEEKS, ONE NIGHT | LN4, OP81

when your ex hurt you so bad, his teammate is always there for you.

lando norris x y/n, oscar piastri x y/n

After discovering her boyfriend Lando’s devastating betrayal, she is left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart in the glittering city of Monaco. As gifts and apologies flood her doorstep, she struggles to let go of the man she once loved—until an unexpected ally steps forward. Oscar, Lando’s teammate, reveals the truths that cut deeper than she could imagine, but with his honesty comes a surprising confession. Torn between heartbreak and the hope of something new, and she must decide whether to confront her past or embrace an uncertain future.

TW: CHEATING, mention of Y/N! I hope you enjoy this short au, and please remember this is my first ever au, so excuse any mistakes!! this is purely fiction, and please do feel free to leave a comment! hope u enjoy <33

The dim hum of the city outside her window was the only company she allowed herself as she sat in the quiet of her apartment. The soft glow of streetlights of Monaco seeped through the curtains, casting faint shadows on the unopened boxes scattered around her living room. Her eyes lingered on the largest one, wrapped in a sleek black ribbon, its sender’s name unmistakable on the gilded card attached.

Lando Norris.

It had been two weeks since the storm—the night everything fell apart. When she got a text from his teammate, confirming her suspicions. She could still hear the echoes of their arguments, his voice strained as he stumbled over apologies that didn’t match the betrayal etched into her memory. The headlines had done their part too, parading his indiscretion across every screen until there was no denying what he had done.

He had cheated on her.

Lando, with his boyish charm and the grin that once felt like home, had torn through the trust they had built together. The man who had promised her the world under Monaco’s glittering stars had shattered her heart in a single, reckless moment.

Since then, the gifts had started arriving. First, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers, each petal seemingly plucked with care. Then came the handwritten letters, pages filled with words that tried—and failed—to piece together his remorse. Then expensive clothing, the Givenchy boots she always wanted, extravagant jeweler, anything she could think of and more. Tonight, it was something bigger, heavier, as though the weight of the box could match the gravity of his mistakes.

The texts came with the gifts. The apologies she received every day, among phone calls, were starting to annoy her. There was no point of changing her number or blocking him, he always found a way to contact her. But at least, he hadn’t appeared to her house yet. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate that.

But none of it could undo the ache lodged in her chest.

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the ribbon, hesitating. What could he possibly give her that would make her forget the way her heart had splintered? A grand gesture to overshadow the simplicity of loyalty he had broken?

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the couch, the ribbon untouched. She had loved him, truly and deeply. The kind of love that left no room for doubt. They have been through a lot, he had helped her in many ways, and so did she. She was always there for him, and all it took for him to break everything was a win in Singapore. And yet, here she was, staring at another attempt to buy her forgiveness.

She’d thought about reaching out to him, about confronting the man she’d once trusted with her whole heart. But every time she considered it, the memory of him with someone else burned brighter, and the courage faltered. No amount of gifts could erase that image, nor could it restore the trust that had been so carelessly discarded.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚

She leaned back on the couch, her hands trembling slightly as her phone buzzed on the table once more. She had ignored countless messages and phone calls from him over the past two weeks, but this one was different. A video notification from an unknown number lit up her screen.

And then she saw him. Lando.

He was leaning close to another woman, her face obscured by shadows, but her hand was unmistakable as it trailed along his arm, lingering.

Y/N’s heart pounded, the weight of his audacity crushing her. Two weeks of apologies, endless gifts, and promises of remorse—only to find out he hadn’t even stopped. The sting of betrayal felt fresh all over again, more painful than she could have anticipated.

A video. Of him. With another woman. Now she was sure, he was just trying to buy her into his life again, for his own enjoyment and only. The gifts meant nothing, she meant nothing, the only thing he cared about was just to fuck around behind her back.

She has been watching the video for several minutes, unable to stop the ugly feeling in her stomach growing. She felt disgusted and humiliated. A year and a half, all meant nothing to him?

Her phone started ringing, once again. She wanted to pick up, she wanted to scream at him, to curse him, to make him feel even worse. She needed that. That's why she found herself accepting the call, his voice coming through the speaker after two weeks.

"Baby, finally. Please, let me explain-"

“This better be good,” she cut him off, her voice sharp. “Because I’m done playing games, Lando. I just got sent a video of you making out with a random girl, while you were claiming to be sorry"

“That video—it was staged. Someone’s trying to hurt me. To hurt us.” He tried to say quickly, trying to defend himself once again over the phone.

“Staged? That’s the best you’ve got? You expect me to believe that?”

“Baby, think about it. Who sent you the video? Why would they do that? I’ve been trying to fix this, to fix us,and someone doesn’t want me to.”

The sincerity in his voice wavered her resolve, but the anger inside her burned hotter. “Do you even hear yourself? You cheated on me, Lando. You don’t get to play the victim.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m begging you to believe me this time. There’s more going on here than you think.”

The words hung in the air, leaving her torn between disbelief and the lingering hope that maybe—just maybe—he was telling the truth.

"No. I hate you. You hurt me so bad, and you don't even care. You can't just buy your way back to my life. I don't want this anymore! You need to stop, and leave me alone, not keep hurting me" she said quietly, so tired of everything, before hanging up the phone on his face.

Her phone buzzed again, and again, and again. But the damage was already done.

The unknown number kept texting her, saying that her ex wasn't the man he claimed to be. She laughed bitterly, tossing her phone onto the couch. The words felt like a cruel joke. She paced the room, her mind racing. The image of him with another woman was seared into her thoughts, erasing any remnants of the man she had once loved.

Her pulse quickened. The pier? She glanced at the clock. It was 10:16. Every instinct screamed at her to ignore the message, to block the number and move on. Move on from this life, forget Lando, forget everything. But curiosity and the need for answers gnawed at her resolve. What if this was the closure she needed? And if Lando was hiding something, it was time for the truth to come to light. As she stepped into the cool night air, her heart pounded with anticipation and dread. Whatever awaited her at the pier, she knew one thing for certain: nothing would ever be the same again.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚

The pier was quiet, bathed in the pale glow of the moonlight and the soft lapping of waves against the docks. Her footsteps echoed faintly as she approached, her breath visible in the cool night air. She scanned her surroundings, searching for the unknown person who sent her the messages.

A figure stepped out of the shadows near the end of the pier, their silhouette sharp against the water’s reflection. Her heart quickened. As she drew closer, she realized it wasn’t Lando—it was someone else entirely.

“Y/N?” the figure called softly.

She recognized him immediately. It was Oscar, Lando’s teammate. His face was drawn, his expression a mixture of concern and regret. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Oscar?” she said, her voice edged with confusion. “You’re the one who sent me those messages?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. You deserve to know the truth.”

Her chest tightened as the man in front of her spoke. “What truth? About what I already saw? About Lando?”

Oscar hesitated, glancing around as if to ensure they were truly alone. “There’s more to what happened in Singapore. And it’s worse than what you think.”

The girl's stomach churned. “Just say it. Please."

He took a deep breath, his voice low. “Lando wasn’t just with that girl once. It wasn’t a one-time mistake. They’ve been seeing each other for months. Some of us—his friends, the team—we knew, but no one wanted to get involved.”

Her knees felt weak, the weight of his words threatening to crush her. “Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Because I saw how much he hurt you, how he treated you.” Oscar said, his eyes earnest. “And because he’s still lying to you. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness if he can’t even be honest.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She took a shaky step back, trying to process everything. “Why would you do this? You’re his teammate, his friend.”

Oscar’s gaze softened. “Because I don’t think it’s right to let him manipulate you anymore. You deserve better than this. Than him.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She looked out at the water, the cold wind biting at her skin. The image of Lando, the man she had once trusted completely, was crumbling into something unrecognizable.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Oscar replied. “I just thought you should know the full truth. What you do with it is up to you.”

She stood there for a long moment, her thoughts a chaotic mess. Finally, she nodded, her resolve hardening. “Thank you, Oscar. For telling me.” He gave her a small, understanding smile. “Take care of yourself. You deserve so much more than this.”

As he turned to leave, she stayed behind, staring out at the dark waters. The truth was heavier than she had imagined, but in a strange way, it felt like a release—a step toward finally letting go.

She heard his footsteps pause behind her. He called her name softly, his voice hesitant. She turned to find him standing just a few steps away, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it held something different this time—something raw. She turned, her gaze meeting his.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice steadier now.

Oscar hesitated, then took a step closer. “I… I didn’t just come here for him. I mean, I did, but…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply. “I’ve seen how he treated you, even before all this. And I… I hated it. Because I knew you deserved better. And I…”

Her breath caught. “Oscar…”

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “But seeing you hurt like this, knowing he’s still lying to you… I couldn’t stay quiet. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you more than I should. You deserve someone who sees you. Who actually puts you first. And I—I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to process his words. She hadn’t seen this coming, not from Oscar, the quiet and steady presence who had always seemed like the opposite of Lando’s brash energy.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, misinterpreting her silence. “I just… I needed you to know. I’m not saying this to confuse you or to make things harder,” he added quickly, his tone almost desperate. “I just… I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. Not after seeing what he did to you. Not after watching you hurt like this. Because if there’s even the slightest chance that you—”

Before he could finish, the girl stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. “Oscar,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “Thank you. For being honest with me. For telling me the truth.”

His eyes searched hers, a flicker of hope lighting his expression. “You don’t have to decide anything now,” he said gently. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

For the first time in weeks, she felt a sliver of something she hadn’t thought possible: hope. It wasn’t a promise of a new beginning, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have to face the hurt alone. And as she stood there on the pier, the weight of the past slowly giving way to the possibilities of the future, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to close the door on everything just yet.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚

thank you so much for reading this!! if you want part two feel free to comment!

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ossiethegreat · 1 month ago

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uhmmmm little thing i wrote for practice...... spare me ive been taking creative writing for approximately two weeks . its about color being gifted his camera

September 16th. Color hadn’t known (remembered) when their birthday was until earlier that month. They and Ink were chatting it up about Color’s AU when Ink had mentioned the creation date.

“Since all Sanses were technically born on April 1st, most just consider their birthdays to be the day their universes were created–so: happy early birthday!” They had exclaimed.

Color couldn’t remember the last time they had celebrated such a thing. There was no time in the void, they nor Gaster could have ever guessed when any holidays were, not even their birthdays. They could only scratch lines into the crumbling pillars of Judgement Hall when a day might have passed–which meant little in the void.

The idea of their birthday coming up scared them a little. They didn’t want to have a party, a dinner, or any big event that surrounded them. It had only been a few months, many hospital visits and psychiatric appointments, as well as way too much meeting new people since they had arrived at the Omega Timeline. Delta was the only person they truly called a friend, and even he could be too much sometimes. They ultimately decided not to tell anybody about their upcoming birthday, but fate had other plans.

Delta had knocked on their bedroom door, leaving it open a pinch after Color hesitantly allowed him in. But Color could only stare awkwardly and mumble a simple “thanks” as the words “happy birthday” came out of his mouth.

“A little birdie told me,” He mused, winking. Ink, of course, that blabbermouth. Delta moved to plop down on the edge of the bed, looking at Color for permission first. He was holding a medium-sized box in his gauntlets. “I know we haven’t known each other for that long, and this is gonna sound cheesy, but I value our friendship.”

Color silently nodded. Kindness urged them to say something nice in return, but they couldn’t find the words. Get to the point already, they thought, practically hearing Patience shake her head.

“Me and Epic put our money together to get you something. I know you don't like a lot of company, so I didn’t invite him, but he says happy birthday too.” He grinned enthusiastically at Color, who smiled weakly in return.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Color’s flames danced in a green blob, teal teetering at the edges. “You already do enough, really, you don’t have to spend more money on me.”

“I know, it’s just…” Delta continued, rubbing the vertebrae on the back of his neck. “It’s your first birthday here, and I wanted to do something. Here.”

Delta passed the box over to Color. It was heavy. Not too big, though. A cute shade of pink wrapped neatly in a white ribbon. Just looking at it made Color nauseous. Doubtful, they looked up at Delta, who nodded in encouragement.

Delicately, Color unraveled the ribbon, slipping off the top of the box and putting it to the side. They felt Delta’s eyes on them as they took out the paper fill, phalanges stopping in their path as Color stared down at the object. The shiny reflection of glass stared back at them, a lens attached to a little gadget of buttons and adjustment settings.

“A camera?” The quiet words slipped out of their teeth as they stared down at it. “Why?”

“I…see you looking at that photo a lot.” Color turned their head back towards Delta, confusion evident in their expression.

“What?”

“The photo on your nightstand. Your younger siblings, right?” He gestured to the framed photo that stood on its own under the lamplight. The symbol of everything Color had lost. “It's the only thing you put up in here. Everything else was donated.”

Color glanced at the photo, then Delta, then back at the camera they held gingerly in their hands. They hadn’t realized how much that said about them. To think Delta could read them so easily–it was scary. But there was a warmth in every soul inside of Color that started to burn as they listened to Delta speak.

“I lost people I cared about, just like you, and made it my life mission to help people I couldn’t in the past. But even with my newfound purpose, I still find myself back there, stuck in the past.” He looked at Color. “I see it in you when you look at that photo. Like you’re sucked in, back there with your family, no longer in the present with me. Like I could look back to you and find nothing there.”

“I guess what I'm trying to say is…you seem to value that picture more than you value anything else. It almost traps you. And I was wondering if the idea of taking more pictures like it could benefit you. Give you new things to cherish, to hold dear to your heart like your family.”

“But if I’ve learned one thing in this god-dammed multiverse, it’d be that family doesn’t have to be formed by blood. It doesn’t have to be found in old memories of lost loved ones. And you can find it in the strangest of places.” He chuckled. “You’ve met Epic. He’s weird and crazy, but…he means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. All of the memories I’ve made here are what keep me going. And those are the memories that matter–not the ones in the back of your skull that make you all depressed. Are you picking up what I'm putting down?”

Color was already hugging him. They were burying their face into Delta's shoulder, squeezing their eye shut. Their voice cracked pathetically as they spoke. “Did you have a long talk with Dream?”

“Hah. I wish. You got me all sappy.” He exhaled, wrapping his arm around Color to rub their back. “You need a tissue?”

“You know I can’t shed tears.”

“Right. Flamehead.”

Silence. But for once it was a comfortable silence.

“Thanks...For the camera. It was thoughtful.” Color finally said, retreating to their spot. They looked back at the camera in the box. “I think I’ll keep it forever.”

#color sans #delta sans #emberheart duo #utmv #undertale au #utmv fic #please dont give me writers curse :(#i did this instead of doing my homework #also i stole the theythem pronouns from soneone else heh

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nobody-nexus · 5 months ago

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Dance Rush Body Types/Idol Heights!

Just to give people a sense of how they look for potential outfit changes! Some facts about each one:

Pomni- She's got hairy armpits and catlike feet. The feet are a reference to how in the very first concept, she was originally going to have a furry tail. I got rid of it due to the hoodie getting in the way

Ragatha- Yep, she's chubby in this! Most of her outfits have corsets built into them so the audience doesn't know this. But she's always glad when the outfits don't have this

Jax: The glow in the dark makeup that he has is actually attached to his body. It actively can't be removed. Also, he has yellow beans only on his feet- but hates showing them

Gangle: She literally cannot remove the cloak in any way. She can't be "naked" in any way, since her infinite ribbon body is attached to the cloak itself. But also technically she's always naked

Zooble: You might notice the different limbs. They're actually strictly forbidden to remove the usual pieces via their Agent, but when not working in any way, they change into something more comfortable

Kinger: I might get some questions about Kinger. "Why is he not in underwear like the others?" Simple. HE IS A CHESSPIECE. It's not that hard to imagine it. So fuck it, bathrobe

Caine: His body is glass like, see through and shiny, but also, he's buff with a speedo as a reference to a part of Chowder where the character Mung Daal is wearing a speedo. It's funny

So yeah hope you like more insight on the characters and the world that is this AU ^^

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hangesdarling · 7 months ago

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birthday — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x fem!reader SYNOPSIS. You want your spouse's late-night birthday celebration to be special for both of you. CONTENT. Modern AU chemist Hange, suggestive themes, soft sex, not explicitly described, just flufffff WORD COUNT. 1.3k words A/N. Thinking about Hange in their late 40s is doing things to me. ANYWAY HAPPY B-DAY TO MY BELOVED

It was a cold and rainy September 5th morning when Hange thought of you out of the blue. An invading yet comforting thought amidst their research papers. They shook their head and blinked, pinching their nose to get back in focus but could find themselves smiling. It was ridiculous missing you suddenly when you spent 15 years of your marriage snuggled to their chest every night. It had been that long already, Hange thought, sighing as they left their chair to stare out of the window.

Last September 5th wasn't so rainy. Hange remembered a mellow sky, clouds tinged with sand orange as you pulled them into a lovely cake shop to get them a cake for their birthday. Hange loved the memory with you, it was quiet, there was champagne, and they were kissing you. Hange wondered what you're doing at home right now. They never got to ask since they left home early today and you were still sound asleep.

Today, it was almost 5 PM and Hange hadn't checked their phone in hours, too immersed in their work. They pulled their eyes from the drizzle outside and checked their phone. There was one message along with an attachment from you. It said to come home early, coupled with pink hearts. When Hange clicked the picture from you, their composure almost popped off in several places.

Hange stared at the photo, cheeks heated before a grin appeared on their face. They slid the phone back into their pocket and checked their watch. This is about the only time they'll use their privilege as the head researcher of their lab just to come home early. Whatever you're up to, Hange knows they should be at home in a minute.

Hange expected the double deck cake topped with cherries, the inviting dinner, the red wine you both love and that sweet perfume you always wear on occasion. They hugged you from behind, head craning against your neck, buried in the matching scent of your lotion. You smiled, leaning them closer to you. However, as Hange's hand wandered further to your thin robe, they felt the familiar lace underneath and smiled more to themself.

"So this is what you wanna show me after all, hm?" they whispered, nipping at your ear.

"I just wanna do something for your birthday, hon," you faced them and wrapped your arms more comfortably around them. You lingered seconds longer to feel their warmth, their chest. "I missed you all morning."

"Silly because I did too," Hange mumbled back. They lifted their head a little.

You smiled, "Let's eat dinner."

"My love?"

"Hm?"

Hange gripped your waist, placing you on the countertop in one swift motion which made you yelp.

"Hange!"

Hange kissed your blushing face, wrapping your legs around their waist.

"Baby," Hange faced you, hands on the side of your thighs. "Will it upset you if I told you I can't bother with the food right now?"

You pouted, "But I cooked your favorite."

"Tempting, but I have something else in mind right now," they smiled, loosening the ribbon of your robe, revealing the lingerie you're wearing underneath.

"I don't remember the last time you wore this," Hange shook their head lightly and looked at you. "You said you felt silly wearing them now that we're older."

"But I know you'd like to see them again." You looked away, lips curled shyly. "Or so I hope."

"I always love them on you," Hange's voice grew more affectionate. Seeing your beautiful face, half glowed by the candlelight in a partially dark room, Hange remembered when you were both younger. You never lost the loving gaze or the bright smile that made their heart flutter the first time they sat beside you at work. Of how your love shone through even at the darkest days in the 20 years they knew you, and the 15 years of it as their wife.

Hange wrapped their arms around you, more comfortably, holding you in a pure gesture of love and affection. They'll always come home to you, no place can ever be home without you. Nothing can offer this much boundless love or care. Even for days or weeks when they had to be away for work, even at nights when they're too exhausted to be present for you. Even when the intimacy between you wasn't as often lately because of their paperwork. You had nothing but patience and love.

"I thought we lost that spark somehow," they admitted, pulling back to gaze softly at you. "We're not getting younger, we have less time than we often have."

You let them speak, your hand stroking their hair back as you listened. Their eyes were soft and beautiful as they always were, the faint stress lines under them were the only few signs that they had aged.

"Turns out I just need some break," they chuckled. "It feels nice coming home early. Especially when I can have you like this."

Hange didn't want to waste the hours left on their special day. Despite your protests, they carried you to the bedroom like they always used to do.

"We didn't even bother cleaning up the kitchen," you said between a kiss. Hange discarded your robe on a nearby chair and kissed you again, deepening it this time.

"We can do that in the morning, or later when I wake up in the middle of the night," they said. "I extinguished the candles so don't worry about anything, okay?"

You hummed, helping them out of their sleeve shirt. "Happy birthday, love."

"Thank you, baby."

Hange had missed the sensual touches from your hands, and their own hands kneading the softness of your breasts and thighs. They underestimated their arousal and desire for you as Hange was losing it just from your slow grinding on their thigh. Hange was fervent with desire, their kisses growing rough, their hands almost tearing the thin laces from your body.

"I love you," they often whisper, their every kiss worships you, an old desire that never grew stale.

They missed your taste, the way you hold onto them during orgasm, the way your mouth parts and body slacken when you're riding out your high. And even in your exhausted state, you insist on giving the same release as many times as they wish. You trust them every part of you, whatever they need to get that certain level of pleasure from you.

By the end of it, Hange slowly felt the exhaustion, their body sore in several places in ways they won't complain about. Your back was on their chests, your breasts gathered in their arms as they hugged you. You talked about the forgotten dinner, their last birthday, your last anniversary, and even what you'd do tomorrow despite knowing you're too exhausted to do so and just end up drinking tea together in the living room.

You were being lulled to sleep, on the brink of it before the memory of your gift came back to you. Your hands felt for the box under your pillow and showed it to Hange.

"What's this?" they muttered sleepily as they took the box.

"Open it, love."

Hange opened it with one hand, not wanting to let you go with the other until a necklace fell out. They picked it up and smiled as they saw the gray pearl tinged with blue.

"I remembered this," they said. "On our last vacation at the beach."

"And our reservation got messed up a bit so we stayed outside for longer and I found that pearl," you added, smiling at the memory. "It was nothing special, I just thought the color would complement your work shirt."

"It was lovely," Hange kissed your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too."

It was the same love even before they admitted their love, the same love 15 years ago, last week, and yesterday. Hange didn't doubt it would change no matter how many of their birthdays come.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

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vvickydisc · 8 months ago

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like abra abra cadabra and just like that ive made 3 unnecessary but technically different AUs

#my art #art #the amazing digital circus #tadc au #tadc jax #tadc gangle #ribbun #springlock au #ribbons attached au #i got so many ideas for this hehehe #entangled au (outdated)

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fujii-draws · 1 month ago

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Been meaning to ask, what /did/ inspire your reading of dadnoir?

I like it a lot, i even use it, but i got it from you and i want to know more about what inspired you to write it?

Hihi!! I am more than happy to explain it :3

Admittedly at first I really wasn’t thinking too much about Ribbons/Aimilios’s relationship with him. I was also originally of the opinion “Oh those three would just hate eachother like some sitcom but tolerate the other’s existence for Grovyle/Celebi’s sakes” But that was before I made this art piece.

(Ironically the first one I did of those three before the madness deadass consumed me)

I was originally drawing with my feelings towards Dusknoir in mind (Which was absolutely trusting and loving the guy before he did the whole betrayal thing. And hating his ass) but something about it legitimately made something click. There was such an interesting, complicated, and tragic relationship to be had with those three. That had so much god damn potential for interactions/dynamics/angst that I saw equal to the whole Grovyle/Dusknoir’s uneasy truce in EP5.

“What if Aimilios(partner) wasn’t the only Pokémon who looked up to Dusknoir, but Ribbons did, too. And even more unfortunately, Dusknoir going from playing the role of their “friend”, only then get attached to them, too. Causing a whole mess of internal conflict while those two are snuggling up to him.”

Now, before I get into this next segment, I’d like to preface that I’m aware that it was never the writers intention to imply or insinuate a relationship between those three. This is just a veryyy fun what-if scenario that is unintentionally backed with some context if you squint at certain segments. I frolick in the field of headcannons and different interpretations because it’s fun, and I don’t like trying to justify the dadnoir Au’s existence over and over again with ‘ahhh sorry guys I know this is ooc :(((((‘ and am very much past that phase. I have nothing to apologize for, and neither should you if you enjoy the hc! and will now unapologetically enter my joker arc 👍

(I am also okay with people not liking /enjoying it! We can still be chill :3 so long as you don’t actively try to put the hc down out of sheer disdain. Other than that!! Cheers to the folks who don’t understand or even like Dadnoir, who are still willing to hear me out! (And even the ones who don’t and respectfully click off this post!)

Long Dadnoir Tangent undercut

—

Worrying over Hero/Partner genuinely even though there’s virtually nothing to gain from saving two random Pokémon who you’re gonna leave in a world of ruin regardless.

Defending those two while showcasing both sides of Dusknoir (where he’s willing to be merciful to the Manectric, but fight on behalf of Hero/Partner after what Team Skull pulled.)(if he was just an overly cynical, unbearable asshole why is he even bothering with this)

While this is absolutely leaning more towards him making sure they’re alright so he can prepare to officially and personally execute them, I think it’d be more sweet if this was more of a slip of the tongue on his part. “Hoho! Farewell little, vulnerable Pokémon I’ve gained a small attachment to. Wait what.” (WHILE I DONT HAVE THE SS, if you talk to him again, he tells them to be careful. Again.)

I remember a post from @defendglobe that was equivalent to “did he seem more uncomfortable with praises now that he knew he was basically deceiving everyone” and I love that take so much that I’m putting it here.

Ohhh Crystal Lake. How I love you.

Another instance. Where Dusknoir absolutely could have let everything play out. Get rid of 1/3 of his targets while incriminating Grovyle even further as a villain. He knew who partner and hero were at that point. He knew his mission. And yet he acted. It’s so hilarious how similar this and Dusknoir pushing Grovyle out of the way of the stalactite in EP5. My ghost in Christ you could have gotten rid of them so much sooner.

I fucking loooove this little scene so much. How Mespirit and Uxie go over to Azelf in pure worry. How close they get near them. How Dusknoir Hero Partner have the same interaction, yet the renowned explorer keeping physical(emotional) distance away from them. How it’s exactly three Pokémon checking up on eachother in back-to-back scenes.

I Don’t think I Need a Screenshot for the elusive “Well… this is… good-bye… Or is it? Scene; BUT. Something I never considered was him stalling bc I thought he was being a theatrical asshole and pausing for dramatic effect during his betrayal. But i remember a post of someone saying the “…”‘s in his dailouge almost felt like he was hesitating and. Shit. that makes me so insane.

And now, onto the angsty future bits.

Again, Dusknoir absolutely did the shit he did to those two. And I don’t want to take away from it by softening the blow or woobifying him. If anything, the previous explanations/Dusknoir enjoying his time with them(and Vice versa) adds onto the tragedy and angst so much more and I love it. From this point on he is as cold and calculating as he is in game. I only hc the moments of hesitation during the Stoneship fight.

There is something so genuinely heartbreaking about partner’s denial throughout the entirety of the Paralyzed future segments. The refusal to admit that Dusknoir was a horrible Pokémon, and clinging onto hope that he was still good.

AND THE GOD DAMN TEARY EYED SPRITE. YOU CANNOT MAKE THIS UP. HE LOOKED UP TO DUSKNOIR SO MUCH AND FELT SO BETRAYED.

And the implications Hero gave up too from Partner’s words alone. The fact Hero has no dialogue after Dusknoir revealed just how cruelly and easy it was to manipulate them.

And just. Partner’s teary-to-determined sprite pipeline after *finally* getting their shit together and realizing the truth. That they need to stop defending him and be there for Hero. I am going to die. Badly.

And even after all that Dusknoir put them through. Partner doesn’t just go “yeah lmao pretty much” and reels back on calling him heinous and wicked even though that was absolutely justified.

Like. God there’s so many crumbs that made me realize on rewatches that the concept had actual merit and potential. And I love it so so dearly. There’s so much potential oozing and fun to be had with Dusknoir being close to those two (or any other Pokémon you see fit.) regardless of Celebi and Grovyle that can work. I still think futuretrio is an amazing dynamic and trio of Pokémon.

And i am also of the opinion of him only rarely showing devotion and care for Pokémon he loves. But still is fairly respectful to randoms he doesn’t know as well. And I think it not being solely restricted to Grovyle/Celebi can can make for some really sweet dynamics. Again, I love Grovyle/Celebi/Dusknoir so much. And Ribbons/Aimilios/Dusknoir’s relationship makes me equally as insane if not more.

It’s why I adore it when I see Dusknoir x oc or Dusknoir x sona’s in the fandom that are unapologetically lovey. I hold hands and continue to love whatever new future trio art my mutuals/friends have in store. I appreciate majority of this fandom for it’s open mindedness and kindness.

And on one last note, the reason why the concept of Dadnoir appeals to me so much, is explained so masterfully by one of my good friend’s @gaydiation-poisoning that I will now share with you all

^^^ they’ve been on the dadnoir train for the longest out of anyone I’ve ever met (EVEN ME.) and they put it. So well. (Without even mentioning the pure drama and bittersweet tension upon his return to Treasure town.)(Like fuck man. The idea of Hero/Partner slowly learning to retrust him after… everything. Emotionally and Physically. The time it’d take. The conflict and continued back-and-forth dynamics between them. and the one ghost who desperately wanted to live in retribution for their lives; trying genuinely, no stings attached this time, to try and reconnect with those two.) [not even mentioning the fun switch up of famous explorer + two recruits trying to impress and get close to him, vs famous explorer(s) + fallen from grace explorer trying to get close and rekindle a tainted relationship.] take these three away from me they make me sickkk

And I really hope I, alongside the many others who’ve adapted this hc, can inspire u to keep loving whatever you want anon. Regardless of how in-character or out it may seem. Don’t be afraid to make what you love.

#asks #pmd eos #Dusknoir #dadnoir #I WANTED TO DO ONE EVER SINCE I JOINED THE FANDOM but never had the time #ALSO TY FOR GIVING ME THE MOTIVATION TO FINALLY MAKE THIS #may pin this or redirect it to ppl if they ever get curious about the concept :3

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arthrobug · 8 months ago

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Kobylu Week Day 1: Roleswap

LAST FEW MINUTES OF THE DAY SHUSSSSH

Okay silly lore I thought of since I'm free now-

The only ones swapped are Koby and Luffy, and I also adore the Rocks D. Koby AUs so of course I alluded to that lmao, and basically Luffy is just the most unhinged Marine you've ever fucking seen 💀

Rumor that Xebec had a descendant got out a while before Koby was born, around the time Roger was executed. Koby was soon involuntarily abandoned after he was born, since his parents got found out and killed by Marines. He was taken into the care of a communication line of fishermen, who found out Koby's bloodline pretty quickly, but decided to keep it a secret. He was passed island to island to keep his existence a secret (oh hey sorta like Luffy lol), but he was still kidnapped by Alvida at 14. However, Koby was aware of his lineage and was already trained in how to defend himself, and he managed to escape only after a few weeks, albeit badly injured. By pure coincidence, he ran into Red-Haired Shanks, who decided to give Koby some medical attention before dropping him off someplace. In the time they knew each other, Shanks decided to give Koby -instead of his whole hat- the red ribbon attached to his strawhat to Koby. Koby still wears the ribbon as a bandana to this day.

Luffy never met Shanks in this AU, and Garp drilled Marine ideology into his grandson's head harsher than ever, but it of course didn't stick right, and Luffy interprets it in bizarre ways. Luffy is still extremely motivated to find the One Piece, but not to become the King of the Pirates. He just wants to out of spite and boredom.

Luffy and Koby met during the timeskip, about a year after Ace had been wrongly executed. In that time, Koby had become a prominant pirate from both his name and his grandfather's. People assumed he was after the One Piece as well, and they weren't wrong, but Koby's real reason to find the One Piece was to end the era of pirates, not to become King. Luffy had been on a sort of off-site probation after he tried publicly saving Ace (to keep him out of the public's eye/to forcefully make him cool down/to make people believe he was dead), and ran into Koby. Luffy was briefed who Koby was, but couldn't care less, and became good friends with him extremely quickly.

And that's all I got pff, might make a fic might not, anyways see ya tomorrow for the Modern Prompt 👍✨

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softlee · 10 months ago

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;Submission to Coquette - lee minho.

Pairings: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7.3K

Genre: pwp (well maybe just a little plot), smut, fluff, established relationship, domestic relationship!AU

Synopsis: You take on the challenge of making your boyfriend "Coquette". Will you succeed? Minho only has so much patience when you request him to be submissive. So, ultimately trying to tie him up and use him might be his breaking point.

Warnings: Minho constrained in pink ribbon. Do I really need to add more? Grinding, Bondage via ribbon I suppose, squirting, light dirty talk, reader attempts to be dominant but really how far can that go with Minho? Oral (female and male receiving), and Minho shenanigans (minho just being minho).

Notes: I was supposed to finish this at the beginning of the year when the coquette trend came out on Tiktok. This trend on TikTok IMMEDIATELY made me think of Minho, I just think this theme fits him perfectly. I mean? When I saw this picture on TikTok of this guy in ribbon my mind immediately went to Minho. I hope you guys enjoy it cause I know I did making it :)

Here's a TikTok off the overall idea/theme of this fanfic: here

ENJOYYYYY :D

With the telling ding of Minho’s cellphone in his left pocket on his way home from work, he already had an inkling on who the sender was.

It was, as he suspected, a message from you—his girlfriend, his girl, his lover, his other half.

But to you? No, you were only his errand runner when it came to things you needed before he made his familiar trail back to your shared apartment.

You: I know you don’t wanna go but can you pleaseeeeeeee get me some pink ribbon before you come home? :) [4:56 PM]

Minho lets out an agitated sigh before washing his hand over his disgruntled worn out face; A repercussion of his stressful day at the office.

He waited for you to finish typing your thoughts because he knew you weren’t done.

You are his other half after all.

You: Please? It’s for you xox [4:57 PM]

“It’s for me?” He exaggeratedly stated in his mind while he skillfully dogged a piece of gum on the sidewalk before trudging forward more.

He scoured every crevice of his mind to come up with the most plausible reasoning as to how himself and pink ribbon correlate in some way.

After a few determined seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that there were none and therefore, there was no way in hell he was stopping at the store for pink ribbon of all things. It just wasn’t going to happen. Minho was stubborn and if he set his mind to something, it was going to stay that way. Forever.

Minho isn’t one to be easily swayed.

“I can’t believe you actually stopped to get the ribbon for me!” Minho is greeted at the door of your shared apartment with a love bomb attack. Arms and legs hurling towards him until they somehow get caught into his arms, you attached with them funny enough.

You’re hugging him, and kissing him like this is the last moment you are together. Peppering his nose, forehead, and cheek with kisses before Minho becomes overstimulated by all the touching and he’s grunting in protest and faking a look of annoyance, face scrunching like he’s trying to get away from your assault of love.

He’ll truly never admit it to you but this part of the day, almost like the day was mirroring itself every weekday was his favorite part; you meeting him at the door once you got the satisfying notification that your boyfriend was back home.

Pecking him all over his face like you were some kind of bird.

He’ll never admit it.

The bag with the ribbon of course fell onto the ground when you flung yourself onto him.

Minho with his cat like hearing of course hears this, not even looking.

“Look you probably messed the ribbon up by the way you violently threw yourself at me. It’s almost like you don’t even want it.“ He teases, feeling you slither your way out from the corner of his neck to fully make eye contact with him. The little smirk he has plastered all over his face is slyly gone once you're peering at him.

“Of course I want it! I was just excited to see you! I haven’t seen you all day.“ You whine a little before Minho gives you a glaring stare, of course none other than to surprise you with a peck to the lips, softly letting you down onto the hardwood floor.

You quickly swoop to floor level to retrieve the bag with your latest conquest, discarding the bag and holding the spool of pretty pink silk ribbon in your hands before you wiggle your eyebrows in what he would expect to be a playful way.

“This.” You point at the ribbon, “is going on you.” You smile enthusiastically, pulling your boyfriend by the arm to walk him over to the couch.

He feigns annoyance, throwing his head back in an exaggerated way while making an ungodly noise. He looks like a little boy who is being dragged by his mother because he’s gotten in trouble.

“Can I at least eat first? I'm tired and just got back from work.” Indirectly trying to crawl his way out of whatever the hell you were trying to do; Minho wasn’t going to let you win without a fight. That’s just how he’s always been. He’ll nag and nag some more, but since he loves you, he'll eventually give up.

Right?

“I promise if you do this for me right now, I’ll make you something yummy.” You traverse your eyes on his own, watching as you get no physical reaction out of him.

He plops down onto the couch.

You stand in front of him, both hands on your hips quicking scanning your brain to figure out what exactly you can make to get him to comply.

Suddenly a light bulb switches on in your mind and you gleam, crawling into your boyfriend's lap, disregarding the ribbon on the side of the couch for right now.

Throwing your hands around his neck, “How about ramen and kimchi? I think we still have some kimchi left over.” You swivel your head over to the direction of the refrigerator. In comparison, Minho refuses to acknowledge you on his lap, the dinner choices, and how you on his lap is suddenly clouding his judgment.

You turn back to face him.

“I’ll make you some pork belly too?” Suddenly Minho is intrigued, giving you his full-facing attention before a little smirk takes over his face, unable to contain how good that sounds in reality.

Suddenly intrigued by the music in the background he didn’t seem to hear at first, he looks at the TV behind you.

“Were you just about to play Fortnite before I came in?” He randomly asks in the midst of you discussing dinner options.

Brows twisted in confusion for a second, they return to their natural state when you remember that you were indeed about to play Fortnite.

“Oh, yeah I was. The season is almost over and they had Poison Ivy in the Item Shop! I had to get her and play a couple of matches with my new skin!” You protest, feeling the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms slide around your waist, fastening you to his body.

He displays a toothy grin at your comment. “You’re such a nerd.” Yet when he states this comment, you see nothing but love in his eyes. You smile as well, not about to let him get away with his words.

“Well, you can’t be the one to talk! You also-”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Now hurry up before you change my mind.” He suddenly states, grasping the ribbon in his palm before he looks up to literally see you light up at the words.

That’s all he had to say, you immediately withdrew yourself from the warmth of Minho’s lap, telling him to stay put while you go to collect a few necessary items to make your dreams come true.

You come back in record time, three minutes; Minho watches the array of items engulfed in your arms as you make it back to the sofa of your living room, dropping the items onto the coffee table as if they were somehow heavy.

“Alright,” You grab the black shirt from the assortment on the table, “Let’s put you into this shirt first.”

You turn the shirt inside out, showing him that it indeed wasn’t a plain black shirt like he thought. It was decorated with the words, ‘I love my girlfriend’ right where the top of his chest would be centered if he were to put it on. The word ‘love’ instead being a familiar red heart.

He chuckles out of bewilderment, eyes turning into your favorite half moons.

“When did you get this shirt for me?” He’s intrigued.

“I got it about a week ago in preparation for this exact moment!” You wink at him softly, getting closer to him sitting on the sofa.

“So you’ve been planning this huh?” His eyes are wide, trying to figure out exactly what your evil plans had in store for him.

He tries to grab for the shirt so that he can put it on, but you bring it closer to yourself, shaking your head.

“You said you were tired right? I’ll put it on for you.” He throws his arms down, somehow not making a fuss about you doing this for him.

“Wowwwww,” you’re amazed, he’s glaring whilst he holds his arms up above his head, waiting for you to pull the shirt he’s been wearing all day, off.

You reach for the ends of his shirt, pulling upwards, “You’re so obedient right now.” You tease, getting him out of his shirt before you reach for the one you’re exchanging it for.

You’re now sitting down on his lap again, looking up at him while you get the shirt into formation so you can pull it over his head. He obviously didn’t like what you stated, his dark brown eyes beaming intensely into your own.

You look down quickly to run away from them, meeting direct eye contact with his bare chest. He was definitely getting more toned, the lines of his abs becoming more visible.

Before you could let his naked upper body distract you, you decide to pull the shirt over his head, and watch as you pull each arm one by one into the short sleeves.

His hair gets ruffled in the process, looking like he just woke up from a nice long nap.

“Cute.” You giggle at this, before you smooth his hair out, back to its familiar state before you’re taking him all in with the shirt now on, smiling again.

Minho of course doesn’t like such comments, narrowing his eyes and trying to make himself more intimidating by giving you his signature gaze; eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line.

It doesn’t work on you though, he just looks even cuter earning a hearty chuckle at your motion as you throw your head back.

You turn around in his lap, eyeing the other items plastered on the table as well. You lose balance a little while doing this, so as Minho does with his quick reflexes, he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Next,” You grab an assortment of your most valuable plushies. “I’m gonna put these around you before we start.”

Minho’s eyes washes over your brightly colored plushies; Kuromi, Hello Kitty, and some other bunny looking creatures he’s forgotten the name’s of. Regardless, he watches you in fascination as you start to place each plushie, one by one onto the sides of him, in the corner where his left shoulder rests, and one remaining one (one of the bunnies) in between where you and Minho meet on his lap.

He raises one eyebrow.

“So, where does the ribbon come in with all of this?” He questions, your hands reaching behind you on the table once more to secure the scissors in your hands.

You also obtain the ribbon that fell between the cracks of the couch cushions, before you gleam at him. “Right now actually. I’m going to make you coquette.”

You gleam.

“Coquette?” He’s so puzzled he manages another smirk, letting out a breathless chuckle.

You hum in agreement, delicately brushing a hair that has decided to fall where Minho’s left eye lays, his eye twitching in the process.

“I saw this Tiktok trend where girls would tie their boyfriends up with ribbons, and put bows made of ribbon on them. I’ve been wanting to do the same to you in private…. and hopefully get some pictures out of it.” You gulp after saying the last sentence. You look down to see that Minho has now closed his eyes. He breathes exaggeratingly outwards, almost like he’s trying to compose himself.

“So, you’re doing this because really you want to see me tied up and you want pictures of that?” You instantly turn red, quicking seeking cover into his neck to hide how shy you feel when you say, “Yeah, I think it’s hot. It’s one of the things I’ve always wanted to do to you.”

No matter how hard you sometimes tried to hide your motives Minho always saw right through them. He can read you like a book, and that’s truly why you always just plainly tell him what you’re doing before you do things.

You slowly uncover yourself from the shelter of his neck, finally peering at him to discover he already is, “One of the things?”

Too embarrassed to even mention what else you’ve always wanted to do to him, you reposition the scissors and ribbon in your hands and start measuring how big you want the bows to be. “Hmmm, how many should I put on you?” You successfully dodge the remark as he crosses his arms, glaring at you and your lack of response.

You squint your eyes while looking over his figure, deciding mentally to place two bows on him while tying his arms up.

You hold your left hand out like you're waiting for him to give you something.

“Give me your arms so I can tie them up.” You demand.

Intrigued, Minho does as you say. “How would you like me to place them?”

Demonstrating, “Lay them flat out where the sides of my hips are.” The warmth of his touch suddenly surrounds your body once more, Minho covering all of your senses. His perfume still lingering from the reminisces he covered himself in this morning before heading to work, his magnetic gaze that was locked on you and your movements, his voice which suddenly woke you out of your Minho heightened trance, and as for taste….well you were already craving him in more ways than one since he was being like putty in your hands right now.

His lenient mannerisms and compliancy this evening were working you up in all the right ways.

“I’m waiting for you to tie me up?” His voice continues. It startles you in some way, never imagining you’d hear those words come out of your mouth. His brow ticks.

“Oh…right.” You begin lacing the ribbon in a tying motion, starting just short of where his biceps start.

Minho wasn’t one to be submissive. Everytime you guys engaged in sex, he always naturally was the one to take control. It was just in his nature and it was just in yours to be more submissive, complying to almost anything he proposed. And of course, you thoroughly enjoyed it.

Although, after being together for about a year and two months, you were ready to try something new. Unbeknownst to Minho, you are actually a switch. Yet after the beginning of your relationship you retired that part of yourself naturally when it came to him, since he was very dominant.

So when you found this trend, you got the sudden urge to try something new and spice up your sex life with your boyfriend.

And it wasn’t like you guys were vanilla, but you usually stuck to the things that were not foreign to you as a couple. But, you were ready to step out of that comfort zone.

And right now, it seems like Minho isn’t too opposed to such an idea. That gives you the confidence to continue.

You finish your makeshift confinements on your boyfriend’s arms by cutting and wrapping the ribbon in a bow before you admire your handiwork.

You softly smile in satisfaction.

“Alright, now I’ll make a few more bows and stick them to you in different areas.” You look back down at Minho’s arms, “Is it tight or can you easily get out of the ribbon?”

“I mean, I can’t really get out of it, but if I wanted to then yeah I could.” He answers vaguely before humming, agreeing with himself.

You narrow your eyes, deciding to trust him.

You make the two bows you plan to plant on him and then begin to place them.

Taking one of them and putting them on his head, he just stares at you as you manage to securely place it on his black hair so it isn’t easy for it to fall off. Then lastly, you settle with putting the last ribbon in a peculiar spot. Right on his crotch.

You press it in for good measure, causing Minho to simultaneously move his hands to grip your ass as he lifts his hips, somehow to chase the feeling of your hands ghosting over his dick. He clears his throat after showing a sign of weakness, looking away from you but not shying his hands away from your ass.

He actually chooses to grip onto it harder.

You tilt your head in feigned curiosity and innocence.

“You alright?”

He seems dazed because he doesn’t answer you for a beat.

“Hmm? Yeah, I’m good. What made you choose to place it there?” He questions, now looking up and directly into your irises.

You shrug, actually not having a particular reason. You just wanted to see how he would react.

You hum to yourself like you’re somewhat proud of your work.

“So coquette.” You drop this outlandish word again, Minho having enough of not understanding exactly what the hell it means.

“What? What does that even mean?”

“It just means you look pretty I guess. I don’t really know what it means either. It’s just a Tiktok trend.” You slowly start rubbing your hands over his shoulders, letting them fall downwards into his lap. You decide to unleash yourself of his hold by standing up quickly.

You search for your phone, grabbing it off the coffee table and positioning it in front of him to signal you want your photos like promised.

He doesn’t look pleased.

“Give me a pretty smile!” You give an example of your own before you’re waiting for him to repeat the action. It goes by ignored, instead being met with a nonchalant gaze that screams “I’m being held hostage. Please help me.”

You frown.

“Please smile. You’re not aligning with what your shirt says. Don’t you love me?” You whine.

‘Oh, so you’re pulling that card huh.’ He thinks.

He smirks.

“Yeah, I heart you. Just like the shirt says.” He goes for the literal meaning of the shirt, wanting to visibly displease you.

You pout.

“You’re so annoying.”

Finished with the photo torture time, you throw your phone on the other couch in fake irritability, turning to face him yet again while standing.

You give him a glance over and then softly smile, picking up your arms to do away with your shirt first and then your pants. You were wearing just some comfortable clothing; An old ‘May the force be with you’ Stars Wars T-shirt paired with the Yoda printed sweatpants you frequented about once a week. It was nothing too fancy of course. What came as a surprise was what was under it.

In preparation for the evening, you wanted to dress up for your boyfriend. Specifically in lingerie. White lingerie.

Whenever you wanted to spice up your sex life, or suprise him, you always took extra care of yourself. This meant taking an “everything” shower, putting on perfume, doing your hair, as well as doing some light makeup. And your choices for lingerie sets always happened to be in the colors you thought that looked best on you; red, black, and sometimes your favorite nude set.

About two weeks ago, Minho suggested that you try a lingerie set in white, as he thought you would also look sexy in that color as well. He liked the other sets, but he thought that color would really look good on you. You were a little hesitant at first, but his suggestion paired with a kiss on your forehead, his credit card, as well as the words “surprise me” were all you needed to go out of your comfort zone.

And hell, it surely did surprise him.

You slowly saunter up to him, getting right back into your claimed spot, his lap (throwing the bunny plushie somewhere else on the couch), and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Do you think this color fits me babe?” You rapidly bat your eyelashes, obviously fishing for compliments. Minho's annoyance from earlier, sleepiness, and hunger completely fades away. His mouth slowly parting in awe.

“Of course it fits you, you look in anything. God.” He groans, trying to take you all in.

It was a simple dainty set. A white ribbed corset top with shoulder straps as bows which you tie at the shoulder. There was a collage of cotton flowers joined at the middle of the top, a decorative touch to the already light and airy feel of the lingerie. The bottoms were plain panty underwear, the same cotton flowers in the middle of them as well.

You looked so good. That’s what he thought to himself before he realized that he had to, no needed to touch you. Right now.

Right as he does so, his body moving at will is obstructed by the familiar feel of the pink ribbon you had just adorned to his arms, securing him in place.

“Fuck,” He whines, almost like he’s in pain, “And I can’t even fucking touch you right now?” With all the strength he can muster, he tries to pull outwards to break the ribbon, but he’s too slow. You already knew he’d try something like that, so you, in defense, hold his arms in place.

Suddenly feeling red, you look down.

“You can’t touch me or get out of this ribbon until I say so. You have to do as I say tonight.” Shy, you slowly look up at him again, noticing that his whole demeanor has changed since you’ve uttered those words.

A light airy chuckle escapes him before he can even hide it.

“What, are you controlling me tonight? Gonna use me?”

His teasing tone almost sounds like a challenge. He doesn’t think you can do it. Your confidence grows in opposition.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the dominant one tonight.” You lean in, ghosting over his lips, “And you won’t cum until I say you can.”

You fully press your lips onto his, pulling him as close as you can by wrapping your arms around his neck again, getting a high off of you being the one to order him around tonight.

It gave you a sense of confidence you’ve never felt when having sex with him, his light moan giving you the confirmation you need to kiss him with a little more fervor.

You slowly begin to start your pace, your hips beginning to gyrate over the crotch of his black jeans. You feel him reach for you, for something, his hands attempting to latch over the bottom of your ass.

You smack his hands away, pulling away from the kiss. He desperately chases. You stop your pace.

“You can’t touch me,” You echo again, “I can only touch you? Got it?” Your palms are covering his own, proving your point that he had to do as instructed or he wouldn’t be able to have you. Not in the way he wanted. He throws his head back, as that's the only disobedient way he can act out right now, his long strands of hair sheltering his eyes.

“Fine, have your way with me. I’ll see how long it’ll truly last. You know you love it when I tell you what to do. When I tell you to fuck yourself on my cock. When I have you cum multiple times on my tongue before I even begin to fuck you. I may not be able to touch you, but I can say whatever I want to you and you’ll be begging me to touch you. ” He mutters, shifting his body deeper into the couch.

His words send a shiver through your body, the remaining of it fading right into your core. Truly, he was right. You loved it when he touched you, it’s how you completely got off. Yet, somehow denying yourself the satisfaction of feeling his touch and edging yourself was making you wetter than you could even believe.

To you, this was foreplay, and getting the privilege of having Minho in this way was what you could only dream for. You couldn't imagine though, even in your dreams, how he would react to you taking control. That’s what led you to this moment, once again leaning back down to the crook of his neck, whispering.

“It’s just something I’ve always dreamed of doing to you. It’s one of the things I’ve been wanting to do with you, to you. Now, let me fuck you my way.” You truthfully speak, setting your motion against the fabric of his pants again.

Your boyfriend stays silent, once before being able to stare daggers into your soul, now avoiding eye contact all together. He was clearly flustered. You could tell because he was starting to fill up the space in his pants, his length slowly hardening below you.

“Awe babe, you’re already getting hard. Tell me how good it feels? Hmm?” You push your pelvis harder into his lap, wanting to get a reaction out of him.

It’s quiet for a moment. Minho desperately tries not to moan to show the effect you have on him before he gains his composure enough to speak.

“Tell you how good it feels? How about you stop this charade and explain why you’re already this fucking wet? I can literally feel it through my pants already.” He spits out through his breathing which is slowly getting shallower and shallower. His ears are red, this is how you could tell he was turned on, even if he wouldn't admit it.

“Of course I’m wet, I have my-” You moan, “My boyfriend in a way I’ve always wanted”

You continue your rebellious movement of your hips against his hardened cock, gasping when it hits your clit in a harmonious way. You look down at your panties, expecting to see your arousal escaping from the thin layer of fabric that is holding you all together.

To your dismay, there was no visible evidence that you were incredibly wet. But, because of Minho’s comment earlier, you decide to take two of your fingers and check, feeling the remnants of your arousal, making you groan.

He watches you in suspicion, noticing the way your fingers were easily sliding over the laced cotton of your underwear. His mouth involuntarily opens in awe.

“Ugh, I’m so wet. I’m gonna use you to cum. You can’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” For good measure, you lightly tease your fingers that you just used to touch yourself over his soft lips, Minho taking no time to lick your wetness off your fingers before you lightly rest your hand under the left side of his chin, forcing him to watch you reach your high.

In reality, you didn’t even need to do this, he was going to observe regardless.

You pick up your pace, grinding up and down and then swirling your hips on his as your moaning gets louder. Your other hand stabilizes yourself on his chest while you begin to melt into your high, the line blurring between where your pleasure starts, and where you end.

Minho throbs below you, eagerly waiting for you to ride out your orgasm.

You cum, staring directly into his eyes, rocking back and forth slower to balance out your pleasure. You sigh as you come back to your senses, your hand balling up into a fist to pull your boyfriend closer to you for an everlasting kiss.

Minho moans into the kiss like he’s cum himself, but truthfully, it was because of the way you just used him to get yourself off. Since he couldn’t touch you, he was feeling very understimulated. He was burning for desire for you, its imminence in the way he still continuously pulses below in your lap as you finish kissing him.

You get up from off of his lap and sit on your knees below him on the floor.

“You’re awfully quiet now, what happened to your cockiness?” You smirk, grabbing an elastic band on the coffee table to collect your hair out of your face.

Your boyfriend decides to stay mute, watching you do away with your hair as you begin to graze your hands up his thighs, your hands meeting at the buckle of his belt.

You unclasp it, looking up at him to see what he’s doing to see that he’s admiring you contently. You look back at your task at hand, pulling at the belt as Minho simultaneously lifts his hips so you can remove it.

Currently, you’re wondering why he is so quiet. Did he finally submit? Was he so stunned at your ability to dominate that he was okay with you having your way with him? Or was it because he was so turned on that he couldn’t speak, his flushed body a solid indicator. But his body always gets slightly red when you guys have sex, so that couldn’t be it.

You don’t let these thoughts bother you anymore, you decide maybe it’s a combination of everything, becoming overconfident in the job that you were doing. You let this spur you on, pulling both his pants and underwear down at once to free his hard cock. He lifts the bottom part of his body, viewing the way you let both articles of clothing to collect at his ankles, not fully taking them off.

You were too focused on what was in front of you, him rock hard. You grab at his length, eyeing him to notice that his breath hitches, your hands beginning an up and down motion.

His hips follow the rise and fall of your delicate hands, his breath quickening. The scene placed in front of you was heating up your body. You’ve never seen him this pliant under your hand, so eager, so willing to follow or let you command or do whatever you wanted to him. You’re not even being touched, yet your breath follows in sync with him, steadily increasing.

Noticing he’s still quiet, it starts to concern you. Trying to busy yourself to distract from his silence, you lock eyes with him once again, noting that he was peering at you before you even were. You softly simper, pushing your head down until you take him all in one go, now breaking eye contact to focus on sucking him.

As you embark on bobbing your head over his throbbing length, multiple things happen at once. At the same time, you hear something snapping and a piece of clothing falling onto the floor. A split second after, you’re moaning over his length, not because it was bringing you pleasure, but because you were being pulled quickly off of his dick. Your eyes go wide once you realize what happened, it comes together when your back hits the arm of the couch with Minho on top of you.

He broke free.

Your mouth is open in shock as his mischievous smile stares down at you.

“Minh-” Calling his name, he managed while freeing himself, to collect the ribbon you had used on him. He was pulling your arms above your head as you were trying to get your sentence out.

Minho successfully traps you in your own game. Similar to him before, your hands were now tied with pink ribbon at the wrist, you bewildered at the whole situation. He changed the game.

He softly pulls you down the couch a little so your arms are comfortable above your head. Then, he leans down to give you a quick soft kiss.

“Got you.” He arrogantly declares, reaching his hand over the table in front of the couch to grab the scissors, so he could cut the endless length of the ribbon he had tied to your wrists.

He places the scissors back onto the table.

“But I was supposed to be the dominant one tonight.” You pout.

“And you did good babe, but you know you love it when I touch you,” He leans in to trail kisses down the corner of your neck, listening as he hears you groan, “and kiss you, “his hands start to graze your body before it gets to your pussy, cupping you between your legs, “and fucking you open with my tongue.” You let out an embarrassing loud moan, not being phased by it since Minho loved to hear you.

His kisses, which stopped just before your covered breasts, continue their pace until he’s leaving a trail down your stomach, purposely skipping over your throbbing core to kiss the inside of your thighs. Your whole back arches off the couch, whining when you can’t push Minho’s head in the place you need him most.

He chuckles.

“Now you see how I felt when I couldn’t touch you hmm? It was killing me watching you grind on me when I couldn’t push your hips or when you took me all the way into your mouth and I couldn’t push your head down.” His kisses start getting closer to your pussy once more.

He teases as if he’s about to kiss your core over the thin fabric of your underwear. Instead, he stops his mouth just before he reaches it, talking right into your heat.

“It’s not fun is it? You better be glad I lasted as long as I did in that ribbon.” He explains, looking directly into your eyes.

You throw a fit, your legs shaking on the sides of him in annoyance because he won’t touch you where you needed him.

He lets you out of your misery finally as you are whining, the whining turning into a satisfied hum when he latches his touch onto the soaked cotton of your underwear. He groans when he tastes you on the material, taking his time to lap up the juices spilling out.

“Touch me.” You cry, rolling your body towards his lips, wanting more.

Minho ticks his brow and lets out an airy chuckle. “I am touching you babe.”

He finds you cute and decides to give in to your requests since he knew what you meant.

He tugs at your underwear which is clinging to the sides of your hips, pulling them down your legs until they're out of the way, throwing them carelessly onto the floor somewhere.

You ache in anticipation for him to mouth at you, watching him get back into position to give you what you desired most at this moment; his mouth fully on you.

The moment his lips kiss softly at your clit, you begin to see stars. He proceeds to lick you straight after, your head throwing back in immense pleasure.

“Fuck,” You groan, your eyes following your head and rolling back.

“Tell me how you feel ___.” He chimes, watching as your body tenses below him. It turned him on to great heights to see you this fucked out, his hips rocking into the couch to relieve himself.

“Good.” You manage to get out between shaky breaths, Minho sucking at your clit before he licks a long stripe across the span of your pussy, him humming into you in satisfaction. You feel the vibration of his groaning below you, adding to the pleasure and washing an intense feeling throughout your body. You were close, and you needed something to grip onto.

Normally, when you were about to cum from Minho eating you out, you had your hands clutching to the back of his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your pussy. It helped you balance the unstable feeling that overcame your body whenever you were about to release. Now, since your hands were tied, you couldn’t brace yourself. You didn’t know what was about to happen with this knot in your stomach when you were about to release at any second.

All you could do was announce it.

“I-I’m about to cum. Minho, I can’t, I don’t know ho-” You lewdly rushed, your body beginning to shake in cosmic tension.

Too busy with the objective of making you cum, he lifts his left arm out to successfully hold your hand, nonverbally letting you know that he has you and that you’re okay.

The wave of your pleasure strikes down like a tide that is beginning to crash down onto the shore of a beach, strong yet beautiful. It collects into one singular emotion before it releases in one single motion, Minho lapping at your pussy as you let go. Your body spasms as your orgasm comes to its final end, a gush of remaining pleasure that wasn’t released at that one moment, now finally letting go.

With your eyes closed, you try to collect your breathing before you hear your boyfriend louding moaning below you, grabbing your attention. You look down, eyes widening in shock.

Minho’s face was completely wet, a few front pieces of his hair that frames his face damp as well. As you put two and two together, you drop your jaw in collective embarrassment surprise.

You just squirted on your boyfriend’s face.

Because of this stupid ribbon, you can’t even cover your face, having to watch him as his ears quickly become red again, the flushing slowly diffusing to his face.

You physically can't talk right now, not when you just squirted all over his face. It could have been anywhere else, yet it had to be there the first time you squirt. You close your eyes, waiting for him to say something, anything to get rid of this terrible silence.

Quickly, you feel him shuffle and he’s on top of you now, passionately kissing your lips. You slowly start to kiss him back and slowly open your eyes, feeling him grind his bare cock on your wet pussy. You groan before he detaches.

He looks you dead in the eyes.

“I literally had to stop myself from cumming after you just squirted all over my face. Fuck, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re perfect.” He goes in to peck your lips once more before he squabbles off of you a bit to grab the scissors again, cutting away your restraints.

Suddenly, you’re no longer embarrassed. Sharing the same soft loving smile he gives you as he cuts your ribbon off.

He once more places the scissors safely back on the table before he brings his attention back to you, laying on top of you again.

He searches your eyes.

“Got one more orgasm in you? Let me make love to you.” He softly speaks, waiting for your approval. You nod, excited since you can actually grip his hair now and touch him. You’re sure he’s in pain now since he’s been hard for a while. He always makes sure you orgasm first before he does.

He starts by tugging at the left and right bows of your corset top which are keeping it on you. You arch your back, waiting for your boyfriend to unzip the corset so you’re free. He discards it onto the ground. Then he lowers himself and latches onto your left nipple, observing as you wilt in pleasure, you pressing his head down closer as he grips at your right breast with his other hand.

He again grinds his pulsing cock into your center, humming into your tit.

Realizing something, you softly push him off of you. He looks at you concerned.

“My plushies!” You suddenly realized your near and dear plushies were probably getting squeezed on the couch under Minho’s legs. He quickly searches for them, pulling all three from under his weight and putting two of them on the side where your head was, while he remains holding one of them.

“What?” You look at him bewildered like he doesn’t realize how important they are to you. Minho doesn’t understand, so trying to fix the problem, he covers the eyes of the one he’s holding, as if they aren’t supposed to see us naked.

You laugh wholeheartedly, “You’re so weird,” You tease, “I just didn’t want them to get squished before we continued.”

“Oh.” He states, like saving them was the most important thing in the world right now.

Knowing he’s done with you right now because you stopped having sex with him to save your expensive plushies, you push him to sit on the couch below you while you sit on his lap.

“Now, I’ll fuck you since my stuffed animals are unharmed.” You tease before you softly smirk.

You bring your hand to the middle of your bodies, aligning his cock to your entrance before you slowly sit directly on him, taking him all the way in.

He groans, swiftly holding onto your hips to help stabilize you as you bounce on top of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, now staring at him.

“Now, admit that me being dominant does turn you on.” You playfully suggest, circling your hips on his lap as you continue your pace. You moan, leaning down to kiss his lips before you await his response.

“Of course it turns me on, but-” He holds you harder at your hips. “I just like fucking you more.”

He lifts his hips off of the couch, and begins a ruthless upward pace into you, completely taking you off guard. You hold onto anything you can find, dumbfounded that Minho’s stamina can reach even higher heights.

You moan repeatedly, letting him pound into your pussy below you as you feel another orgasm approaching. You don’t even have to let him know you’re about to cum, he can feel it with the way you go silent, and the sudden tight grip you have around his cock that is also stringing him closer to his own release.

Minho starts to sweat, his stamina even putting a toll on himself. Thank god he and you were about to cum soon.

Your eyes begin to roll back, his pounding finally demolishing you from above him even though you were the one that had the power in this position.

You cum without warning, legs squeezing as close as they can below you as you fall, laying your head into the corner of your boyfriend's neck, utterly spent. Minho keeps up his pace, signaling to himself that now that you’ve cum that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

He slows his motion, instead replacing it with a hard lingering pounding into your pussy. He cums just like that, quick and with a loud grunt. He wraps his arms around your back, hugging you softly as he comes back down from his high. He finishes off by pecking your forehead with a soft “I love you” that he didn’t say earlier when you put the shirt on him. You wrap your arms around him in return and squeeze, letting him know you heard him.

After a few minutes of recovering, you leave the comfort of his neck, sitting up in his lap to look into his brown eyes.

He smiles at you. You lift your hand to move the strands of hair in front of his eyes.

Then suddenly, he’s chuckling, then full out laughing.

Your eyebrows twist in confusion.

He speaks.

“You know…we just fucked to the Fortnite loading screen music this whole time?” Refusing to believe him, you listen closely to your surroundings, noticing some music.

Omg, it was the Fortnite loading music.

You throw your head back in a fit of giggles.

“Either way, I’ll be glad to make you squirt again if this is the kind of music that you're into, we can make a playlist.” He teasingly comments.

You playfully hit him softly before you’re covering your face in embarrassment, revisioning the whole encounter with the background music.

This was my first ever fanfic on this account! Let me know what you think! :)

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