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the-flaneur · 10 days ago

Note

After Max’s incredibly hot performance in Brazil today I am dying for a Max X Best friend smut. Where he’s been really mopey after quali about not winning any races and not having a sex. So, she jokes that if he wins the gp she’ll reward him. Just imagine the first thing he does when he gets out the car is kiss her and they celebrate the whole night 🥵

mad max strikes back (mv1)

pairing: max verstappen x bff!reader

summary: max is furious after a terrible qualifying lashing out against the team. however, you propose an enticing deal for the desperately hungry lion...but only if he wins

warnings: friends to lovers and 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, public sex (or sex in a public location aka max's driver room), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive!max, lowkey a breeding kink

wc: 4043

a/n: anon i love the way you think ❤️ cause that was an absolute masterclass drive by max, truly indicative of his skill in being able to achieve his three (and hopefully very soon fourth) world championships -> so here's a long one to celebrate ;)

[masterlist] [requests]

max stormed into the red bull garage angrily muttering expletives, slamming down his helmet onto the table with a thud. qualifying could not have gotten any worse. not only had he gone out in q2 from a shitty red flag, he had a grid penalty and lando had also made his way to the top of the timesheet and had qualified first for the race later that day.

he was fucking pissed.

he felt a hand gripping his shoulder, and he whipped around angrily to yell at whoever it was to leave him the hell alone - he didn’t need to hear the same words from gp or christian, let alone his father, who he knew had been even more angry about the flag. they were all just going to inadvertently rile him up more, something he didn’t want on his mind when the rain would be pouring down like buckets only two hours later.

max softened only slightly when he saw it was you, but his scowl and deepening frown lines were still plastered on his face. "what do you want? i'm not in the mood right now." he growled out, but there wasn't much bite behind his words. his eyes, usually so energised and focused, appeared dull and distant to you, as if the weight of the potential consequences had drained all the energy from his body.

"max, it's okay. i'm here," you said softly, as you stepped closer to stand beside him. hand brushing against his arm, it sent a gentle spark through both of you as you gave max words of comfort and reassurance. your voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to max's earlier tirade. as you spoke, you reached up to gently massage his neck and shoulders, feeling the tension seep out of his muscles under your touch.

the adrenaline of his anger dissipated as your hands touched the sensitive skin of his neck, max leaning into you and letting out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes. you were soothing the knots of frustration that had taken hold of his body. as you continued to knead his tense muscles, max's grip on the edge of the table loosened, and he slowly lowered himself into the chair behind him. his head fell back, exposing the long column of his throat, which you couldn't resist tracing with the tip of your finger. the delicate skin was flushed, likely hoarse from his angry shouts.

"you're always so good at making me relax," max murmured, still evidently mad about the result but slowly physically relaxing.

“don’t let rupert here you say that, he’ll have my head for trying to steal his job,” you chuckled softly, watching max soften under your touch, “perhaps you should invest in a full time masseur if it’s this easy to get you to relax,” you smiled softly, patting his back as you kneeled down in front of him, meeting his lowered gaze.

max shook his head in mock amusement despite his foul mood. he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheek. the gesture sent a flurry of butterflies through you, making your heart race. max's eyes glinted with an emotion you couldn't quite place - gratitude, affection, something more?

"thank you for being here for me," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "i don't know what i'd do without you sometimes."

in a moment of vulnerability, max leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric of his racing suit. max's warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in close, his eyes searching yours intensely. you felt like you were drowning in those piercing blue depths, every thought evaporating until all that remained was the thrumming pulse between your bodies.

you loved it.

"if you win today, i promise i'll give you a reward," you teased, pulling away reluctantly as you could hear the commentators announcing the time for the start of the race and the mechanics around you grew alive. max looked momentarily surprised before a slow grin spread across his face, transforming his features from brooding to boyish in an instant.

"oh? and what sort of reward did you have in mind?" he asked, arching an eyebrow suggestively. the atmosphere shifted, the air thickening with unspoken tension. you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you averted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious under the intensity of his stare.

"well, uh, maybe we could celebrate properly afterwards?" you offered lamely, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt while you glanced down at max’s racing shoes. he chuckled huskily, sending some familiar shivers down your spine.

"I think that can be arranged," he purred, leaning in close again, leaning in close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "and i've got a few ideas for how we could celebrate..."

eyes dark with desire, he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

"but first, i’m going to win,”

watching max throughout the beginning stages of the race was nothing short of a god-given miracle. your eyes were glued to the screen in the garage, watching as the lap count increased, he carved his way all the way from p17 through the rain soaked cars like it was nothing.

he drove like the world champion he was meant to be.

watching as the cars came into the pits for the red flag and with max slotted into p2 behind esteban, you couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of pride for your best friend. he was proving everyone, including himself wrong, and setting himself up for a podium finish, you thought gleefully.

max had quickly gotten himself out of the car before pacing his way towards his father and helmut, where a rapid exchange of dutch and german was exchanged between them. although, you had not yet approached him from your stool in the garage, he smiled, knowing that you were still watching him.

you could see a hint of a smile on max’s face as he discussed the tyres and track conditions with gp, before he swung around. max strode towards you with a newfound spring in his step, his earlier frustration seemingly forgotten in the thrill of the race. as he drew near, you could see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, the flush of adrenaline colouring his cheeks. he stopped in front of you, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

"did you see that?!" he exclaimed,"i mean, yeah, the conditions are crazy, but..." he shook his head in amazement. "i felt like i was flying out there. like the car is performing well, there’s nice balance…."

max reached out to pull you into a tight hug, spinning you around briefly before setting you back on your feet. his arms lingered around your waist, holding you close.

“i really think i can win this now,”

“i know you can. go get them lion,”

as you watched max carve out the final corners of the final lap, the chequered flag starting to be raised gleefully in the background, you couldn’t help but let out a broken sob in the garage, the mechanics around you roaring to life as he crossed the line in first.

your max…coming first…for the first time since spain…it was a dream come true.

standing shellshocked in the garage, you were only shoved out of your state, when gp grabbed your arm pulling you towards his screens, before putting a pair of headphones on your head.

he’s listening, he mouthed, before congratulating max on the radio. you could hear the raw joy in max’s shout as he said his signature catchphrase, before gp gestured for you to say something.

“m-maxie, i’m s-so proud of you. you’ve wo-worked so hard for this…” you managed to get out between tears, furiously trying to hide your tear-stricken face from the broadcast camera, which had panned towards the victorious red bull garage.

“thank you y/n…” he grinned, hearing your voice on the radio only made the moment more special for him.

and for a moment, you both felt like you were on top of the world.

“i love you,”

the weight of his words hung heavy in the air between you, the confession echoing in your ears. max listened to you closely, gauging your reaction with bated breath. you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the overwhelming swell of emotion threatening to consume you entirely.

"i...i love you too, max," you whispered, barely audible over the cheers and celebrations erupting around you, "so fucking much."

watching max roll the rb20 into parc ferme - your eyes even more red than before, hair plastered against your sweaty face - you pressed yourself up against the barriers with the red bull mechanics and team members, helmut and christian nearby. the clamour in the crowd and in the people surrounding you reached a fever pitch as max raised his fists in the sky; savouring his victory for but a moment, before he ran towards the red bull crowd. he leaped into the waiting arms of his jubilant crew, who slapped his back, clapping and cheering, chanting his name.

as the team set him back down, max's eyes immediately sought you out in the crowd. pulling you through his celebrating crew, he wrapped you up in a crushing embrace, lifting you off your feet. you melted into his embrace, pouring every ounce of your joy, pride, and adoration into it.

"we did it! we actually fucking did it!" he yelled, his face split in a wide, ecstatic grin. setting you back down, he cupped your face in his gloved hands, thumbs brushing away the happy tears streaking your cheeks. max gazed at you with a look of pure adoration, his eyes shining with triumph and something deeper, more intimate. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. the world seemed to tilt on its axis as you clung into him, the taste of his victory mingling with the salt of your tears. his gloves scraped gently against your cheeks as he held your face, angling your head to deepen the kiss.

the crowd's cheers grew distant, replaced by the pounding of your heart and the ragged sound of your breath. max's tongue swept across your lower lip, coaxing it open, and you surrendered willingly, parting your mouth to welcome him inside. his kiss was hungry, devouring; his primal elation coursing through his veins. you clung to him, fingers digging into the fabric of his racing suit as he ravaged your mouth, staking his claim. max's gloved hand slid down to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your sensitive skin as his tongue went deeper, exploring the warmth of your mouth.

just as the kiss threatened to spiral out of control, a throat cleared loudly beside you. you and max sprang apart guiltily, both flushed and breathing hard. christian and helmut stood there with amused expressions, clearly having witnessed the heated display.

"ah, max," christian began, struggling to keep a straight face. "while we're all very pleased about your win, perhaps save the celebratory…activities…for later, hmm?"

helmut snorted. "yes, let's try to maintain a modicum of professionalism, shall we? there will be plenty of time for private celebrations after the press conference."

max cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing at you with a sheepish grin. "right, yes. sorry about that." he stepped back slightly, though his hand found yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

“i’ll see you guys later at the podium,”

later, as max ascended the podium to accept his winner’s trophy, his gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on you once more. a broad, triumphant smile spread across his face and he blew you a playful kiss, winking at you as the cameras flashed. the crowd erupted in applause again, but max barely registered it, his focus solely on you.

you, his best friend (well hopefully not anymore if he had anything to do about it), was there exuberantly celebrating his first win in what felt like whatever. you had been there since the beginning, but this one felt all the more special

max pushed open the door to his cramped driver's room, a tired but satisfied smile on his face. the media duties had finally died down, leaving him free to celebrate with you in private. you were sitting on the edge of the narrow bed watching him with a smile as he kicked off his racing boots and crossed the room in a few long strides. before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms, pressing you back against the bed.

"thank you, thank you, thank you," he murmured, his voice low and husky with exhaustion. leaning down, he claimed your lips in a deep kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body. he was fierce and demanding - max's lips moving hungrily against yours as if trying to drink in every ounce of your presence. his hands slid under your shirt, skimming over your sides and coming to rest on your stomach, fingertips dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants.

as he broke the kiss, panting softly, he gazed down at you making your heart race. "i want you," he breathed, his voice rough with longing. "right here, right now. reward your race winner.” your breath caught in your throat at the raw hunger in max's eyes. the air between you crackled as he loomed over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow on the small space. his hands continued their exploration, tugging at your shirt with impatient fingers.

you nodded eagerly, a shiver running down your spine at the promise. "yes, please," you whispered, reaching for the hem of his racing suit. "i need you too." with a growl of approval, max helped you strip off his gear, revealing the lean, powerful lines of his body. he shed his underwear next, kicking them aside carelessly as he climbed onto the bed, covering your body with his own.

your fingers tangled in max's short hair as he kissed you fiercely again, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you fully. his weight pressed you into the thin mattress, the creak of metal drowned out by your moans.

max's hands mapped the curves of your body, calloused palms scraping deliciously against sensitive skin as he stripped away your remaining clothes except for your panties. cool air washed over your bare flesh, pebbling your nipples into tight buds. he groaned appreciatively at the sight of you, laid out like an offering beneath him.

"so beautiful," he rasped, ducking his head to put his tongue over one rosy peak. you arched into the touch, fingers tightening reflexively in his hair. he lavished attention on each breast in turn, teeth grazing lightly before soothing the sting with his lips and tongue. as max worshipped your breasts, his hands drifted lower, teasing along the curves of your hips and thighs. you squirmed restlessly, craving more of his touch. he chuckled darkly, a vibration that sent tingles through you.

"not so fast, love," he teased, trailing a fingertip down. before you could protest, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down your legs, kissing and nipping a path along the way. the fabric slipped past your ankles, pooling around your feet as he tossed it aside.

now completely bare before him, you felt exposed yet incredibly aroused, your body vibrating with anticipation. max's hungry gaze raked over your body, making you acutely aware of how wet you'd already grown. with a predatory gleam in his eye, max settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds. you gasped, back arching off the bed as he leaned in to lap at your clit, his tongue bold and insistent.

"mmm, you taste even better than i imagined," he murmured against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through you. his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he lapped at your arousal, sucking and nibbling until you were writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

max's relentless tongue drove you wild, your climax building with terrifying speed. he seemed to sense your impending release, doubling his efforts to push you over the edge. you keened loudly, fingers threading through his hair as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of ecstasy.

just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, max pulled back, leaving you gasping and trembling. he rose up on his knees, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he reached his dick. "my turn now," he smirked, putting you on your hands and knees, your delectable ass facing him.

with a low growl, max positioned himself behind you, the thick head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance. he took a moment to savour the feel of your warm, damp heat beckoning him, your muscles fluttering in anticipation.

max tapped the swollen head of his cock against your pussy, the broad tip parting your slick folds with each teasing press. "so ready for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice dripping with lust. "your pussy is practically begging for my dick." he rubbed the underside of his shaft along your slit, coating himself in your juices before notching the tip inside you. the stretch was painful, but your inner walls clenching greedily around the intrusion.

with a slow, deliberate thrust, max sheathed himself to the hilt, a guttural moan escaping him as your velvety heat enveloped his throbbing length. he paused for a moment, before beginning to move, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, setting a relentless pace that left you breathless and pleading for more. max set a brutal rhythm, pounding into you with abandon as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. each savage thrust hit deep, the force of his strokes rattling the tiny room.

"you're mine," he snarled, his breath hot against your ear. "every inch of this sweet cunt belongs to me." his words were punctuated by the lewd slap of flesh on flesh, the sound echoing off the metal walls. your cries of pleasure mingled with the symphony of grunts and slaps as max relentlessly claimed you, his powerful body driving into yours with unrelenting fervour. sweat dripped from his brow, stinging your skin where they touched, but only served to heighten the intensity.

as max's pace quickened, the bed creaked ominously beneath you, the metallic frame straining against the force of his thrusts. he pistoned into you with reckless abandon, his balls slapping against your clit with every savage stroke. the pressure built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unleash a maelstrom of pleasure.

max suddenly withdrew from your spasming channel, leaving you empty and aching. before you could cry out and whine, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. his other grasped his rigid cock, stroking it slowly as he loomed over you, a predator poised to strike.

"look at you," he growled, his heated gaze raking over your flushed, panting form. "so desperate for my dick, your cunt still twitching." he tapped the engorged head at your entrance once more, teasing you mercilessly with shallow thrusts that barely penetrated you. "beg for it, little one. tell me how badly you need your best friend's cock inside you again."

max continued his maddening tease, the thick crown of his erection catching on your rim with every torturous glide. your hips bucked instinctively, but he maintained his infuriating control, denying you the fullness you craved. "please..." you whimpered, your voice ragged with need. "max, i need you... please fuck me!" tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes as he kept you balanced on the knife's edge of desperation, your body wound tight.

with a cruel chuckle, max finally relented, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust. a choked cry tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, his girth filling you utterly."that's it, take it all," he grunted, starting to move, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each punishing stroke. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to be split open on my fat cock, used like the needy slut you are."

max's filthy words only fueled your arousal as he ravaged you, his thick cock plundering your depths with ruthless efficiency. the room filled with the obscene sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your wanton moans - a lewd symphony. his eyes darkened with possessive hunger as he drank in the sight of you splayed out beneath him, impaled on his throbbing cock. "fuck, look at you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "taking my dick so well, like you were made for it."

he punctuated his words with sharp, deep thrusts, grinding against your cervix with each snap of his hips. "this cunt is mine now, understand? no one else gets to have you like this, not ever again." his grip on your wrists tightened, the bite of his fingers a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure radiating from your core.

"i'm going to ruin you for anyone else," max promised darkly, his rhythm growing erratic as he chased his own release.

max's movements grew frantic, his pelvis slapping against yours with bruising force as he neared his peak. "that's it, take it all," he snarled, his voice strained with impending climax. "milk my cock like the greedy little cumslut you are." with a final, brutal thrust, max buried himself to the hilt, his thick shaft pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside you. rope after rope of hot seed painted your insides, marking you as his in the most primal way possible. through it all, he held your gaze captive, his eyes blazing with feral satisfaction as he claimed you utterly.

max collapsed beside you, both of you panting and sweat-slicked in the aftermath. for a long moment, neither of you spoke, simply basking in the glow of shared pleasure and the intimate connection forged between you.

finally, max rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you tenderly. he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle in contrast to the roughness of your lovemaking. "i meant what i said, you know," he murmured softly, his eyes searching yours. "about wanting to be with you, really be with you. i don't just mean sexually, though god knows i want that too."

you met max's gaze, seeing the sincerity shining in his eyes. despite the lingering echoes of passion, there was a vulnerability there that stirred something deep within you. "i feel it too," you admitted quietly, reaching up to place your palm against his cheek. "the connection, the... everything. it scares me a little, to be honest."

max's expression softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a comforting gesture. "it should," he agreed gently. "love, real love, always does. but i promise, i'll be here for you, through all of it - the good, the bad, and everything in between." he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "we'll figure it out together, okay?"

“i love you max,”

max's heart skipped a beat at your confession again, "i love you too, darling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he poured his feelings into a searing kiss.

in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the depth of your affection. max's lips moved against yours with a tenderness that belied the raw passion of earlier, conveying the complexity of his emotions. as the kiss deepened, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

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alygator77 · 21 days ago

Text

❥ masked affairs—sold to desire

℘pairing. au dom rich! satoru x fem! reader

℘summary. it's a lavish charity masquerade, and you find yourself under satoru gojo’s spell once again. tonight, he’s playing a dangerous game—a discreet, remote-controlled toy designed to tease and torment you—hula beads. as the night unfolds, you walk the fine line between obedience and defiance, but testing him could be your undoing—satoru is unforgiving, and he holds the key to your pleasure.

℘tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, smut, fluff, established relationship, billionaire satoru, reader is rich too, satoru controls/dominates you with a sex toy during a charity auction, jealous/possessive satoru, public foreplay, public sex, lots of worship and praise, penetration, creampie.

℘wc. 15.1k

℘a/n. happy spooky season ya'll 👻 this oneshot is heavily inspired by fifty shades darker. check out the mood board here. the song for this fic is 'infinity' by james young, listen here. enjoy 💕

In a room full of masks, you’ve perfected the art of wearing one—long before you ever stepped into Satoru Gojo’s world.

The lace mask lying on your vanity is almost like a second skin to you now. After all, you’ve spent years working in your profession, hiding behind smiles and carefully measured words. It’s a flawless poise required of someone in your line of work—the PR world demanded it—dealing with the rich and powerful, controlling the narrative, making sure their perfect, untouchable image remains intact.

A skill you’ve long since mastered.

And as the soft hum of the city buzzes outside your penthouse window, with the glow of the skyline filtering through the room—it serves as a quiet reminder of how far you’ve come, and where you are now.

Standing at the top.

But the weight of that truth has never really faded, has it? You—entrenched in this world—one that always demands more than it gives.

A faint smile tugs at your lips as you lift the mask from the vanity, turning it over between your fingers. Ironic, really, that someone who has built a career on managing the chaos of others, controlling every detail, would find herself unraveling in ways she hadn’t expected.

Unraveled by him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the quiet creak of the door, and you glance up at the mirror just in time to see him lean against the doorframe.

Satoru Gojo.

It had been two years since that fateful night—the night you met him at the very same event you are both to attend, yet again. But when he had first walked into that ballroom two years ago, confident and untouchable, you hadn’t been impressed… at first—and why would you be? Men like him, with their money and their charm, were a dime a dozen in your world. You knew exactly how to handle them.

But not Satoru Gojo.

And tonight, he looked every bit his part—a presence so magnetic, so effortless—dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his tall, athletic frame. His white hair falling in its usual tousled disarray, yet somehow, even that looks intentional—perfectly imperfect, just like him.

Ah, but it’s his eyes—those striking, icy blue eyes—that always manage to captivate you immediately. And this time, as his gaze sweeps over you slowly, you catch sight of the predatory glimmer underneath, lingering on every curve as he drinks in the sight of you.

There is a weight to his gaze, and oh, you revel in it. That’s the thing—you know exactly how to unravel him, just as easily as he can unravel you.

Taking your time, you set the lace mask down carefully—knowing full well that his eyes haven’t left you for a second, and you smooth your gown, feeling the delicate, luxurious material slide under your fingers.

The dress was a statement—sophisticated with a touch of allure. The deep sapphire-blue fabric, silky and shimmering in the dim light, hugs your curves with a neckline plunging just low enough to tease. It features a high slit running up one leg, adding a sensual edge but still maintaining an air of elegance.

And you know—oh, you know—that every detail of it is driving him crazy.

His breath catches as he finally speaks, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Wow. You’re going to make it impossible for anyone else to concentrate tonight.”

You smirk, turning just enough to catch his eyes fully.

“Good. I didn’t plan on letting anyone else have your attention tonight.”

“Mmm, funny,” he muses, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate strides.

His hands slowly slide down your arms—a touch so feather-light, it sends a shiver of anticipation through you as he leans in, his breath is warm against your ear. “Especially considering it’s been two years since you walked into that gala and made me work for your attention.”

“Work?” you chuckle softly and tilt your head slightly. “I think you enjoyed the chase more than you’re willing to admit.”

Pulling himself closer to you—you feel his lips brush softly against your neck, underlined with a low growl.

“Oh, I enjoyed it,” his voice deepens with each word. “But catching you...” he places a lingering kiss just beneath your ear. “That was my real reward.”

You inhale as his warm breath fans your skin, and you desperately try not to give away just how much your body is already responding to him.

Why? Because you love making him chase you—even to this day.

“Is that so?” you challenge.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Exhaling again, you feel his hands slide lower, resting just above the curve of your hips as his lips trail down the side of your neck, placing slow, deliberate kisses.

“You still seem a little worked up for someone who’s already caught me.” You keep your voice measured—your growing desire masked underneath a teasing edge.

He chuckles darkly.

“Can you blame me?”

Before you can respond, his words are punctuated with a slow, deliberate press of his hips, and you gasp softly as you feel the unmistakable erection pressing into your backside. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan as the sensation sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

“You feel that, don’t you?” rolling his hips, he sounds so desperate, and it’s impossible to ignore. “That’s what you do to me.”

“You’re awfully needy tonight,” you whisper, breathily.

He drops his head, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder—trailing up to the shell of your ear where you are met with a deep chuckle.

“Needy?” a shiver rakes down your spine as his voice dips lower—darker, more dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart… you haven’t seen needy yet.”

His hand slides from your waist with an agonizing slowness until it rests on the curve of your hip, and you feel his fingers trace the edge of your dress—teasingly close to the slit exposing your thigh—a touch so light is makes you shiver with anticipation.

“I’ve got something for you,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze in the vanity mirror.

Your eyes widen as you feel something cool and smooth brush against your bare thigh—small, sleek, unmistakable.

Hula beads.

Well, fuck—what a menace. With him holding the remote, you know he’ll have full control over your pleasure—completely discreet and utterly torturous.

“Just a little gift to keep things… exciting,” he grins. “I know these events can be so… mundane for you.”

Your mouth goes dry as you hold his gaze, already sensing where this was going.

“Satoru—”

“Two years,” he interrupts, dark and commanding now. “Two years since you walked into my life, and I decided I wasn’t going to let you go.” His eyes lock onto yours in the mirror, and for a moment, all you can do is stare back at his reflection, captivated by his intensity.

Slowly, his expression softens—his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin.

“Tonight’s special, love,” he says affectionately. Leaning in closer, his lips brush against your ear, and before you can react, he captures your earlobe gently between his teeth. “I want you to feel that baby.”

A gasp escapes your lips. He knows how to get under your skin—how to make every inch of you burn with need. His dominance, wrapped in tenderness—the perfect combination that drives you wild.

“I want you to wear these for me tonight.”

The heat between your thighs intensifies at his words. Swallowing hard, you nod slowly. Finally managing to speak, barely a whisper.

“Okay.”

Satoru’s smirk deepens, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as his grip on your waist tightens.

“Good. Now bend over the dresser.”

The command in his voice is unmistakable, and it sends a thrill straight to your core, making your legs tremble slightly as you obey. Slowly, you lean forward, your palms resting on the cool surface of the dresser.

“So obedient,” his hands glide up your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress around your waist. “Such a good girl for me.”

His praise makes your breath hitch, and you bite your lip as his hands move lower, spreading your thighs slightly—positioning you just the way he wants you.

Satoru’s fingers hook into the delicate fabric of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth, possessive motion. As you brace yourself against the dresser, his touch drifts lower, tracing the sensitive skin of your thighs before circling back up—brushing softly around the curve of your ass. But your body aches for more, and finally, your entrance welcomes the light, deliberate pressure of his digit.

It's not enough though.

Fucking hell. The anticipation is coiling tight in your stomach—you were already growing wet. He was always like this—making you wait, making you want him even more.

“Satoru,” you plea, barely above a whisper.

Pausing for a moment, he chuckles—then, he allows his fingers to brush over you again, this time with a little more pressure. He lets out a low hum of approval as he feels the undeniable heat between your legs.

“Well, look at that,” he murmurs, full of satisfaction as his fingers trace over your slickness. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

Your body trembles and the heat intensifies further as he acknowledges your arousal.

“I was going to prep you,” his voice drips with amusement as he pushes deeper—two fingers curling in—just enough to make you gasp. “But… I don’t think that’s necessary anymore, do you?”

He pulls his fingers out—leaving you aching and breathless. You let out a disappointed whine, your body protesting against the sudden loss of contact.

You wanted him. Now.

The desire burning throughout you is almost unbearable, and he knows it—he was going to make this night torture for you.

He chuckles again—a hand sliding up your spine, tracing the curve of your back as he leans in closer to press a tender kiss on your shoulder.

“Needy girl. I’m not done with you yet. Stay still.”

Your breath hitches, and before you can respond, you feel something cool and smooth press against your entrance—the unmistakable touch of the Hula Beads.

“Let’s make this night memorable, hmm?”

He slowly, deliberately, pushes it inside you.

Unable to suppress the soft moan that escapes your lips, he doesn’t stop until the beads are seated deep within you. The sensation is foreign, but undeniably arousing as your core clenches around them—a fullness that builds between your thighs, making your knees tremble.

You’re already aching for more, and he hasn’t even turned them on yet.

Satoru pauses for a moment, letting you breathe as he admires you—a small, knowing smirk tugging upon his lips. With careful precision, he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and pulls them back up.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, smoothing your dress back down. “Now, stand up.”

Standing upright feels like a challenge—your legs tremble slightly as you push yourself up from the dresser, adjusting to the pressure inside you. He steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“You’re going to behave tonight, aren’t you?” His free hand reaches up, fingers gently brushing through your hair, caressing you as his eyes lock with yours in the mirror—a comfort and a reminder of the control he holds. “I’ll know exactly what’s going on inside you, and no one else will have a clue. But you’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try…” you respond, breathy, but teasing—a spark of defiance in your tone, knowing full well what his reaction might be.

Satoru’s smirk deepens, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second.

“Try?” he repeats, full of amusement. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re already testing me, and we haven’t even left the room yet.”

His warning sends a shiver through you as you hold his gaze with a playful challenge—but then, he pecks your cheek and steps back. Straightening his jacket, he adjusts his bowtie as if nothing unusual has happened between you. It’s a movement so smooth and controlled, an epitome of poise—but the smirk on his lips and the glint in his eyes tell you that he’s anything but composed on the inside.

Oh, he’s playing with you… and he’s loving every second of it.

“Behave,” he casts you a sideways glance, accompanied with a wink, full of mischief. “Because I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight, princess.”

❥

“Ah, there they are!” a familiar voice rings from behind, and you turn just in time to see Shoko approaching—her mischievous smile tugging at her lips, the lace mask adorning her face barely concealing that sparkle in her eyes. “y/n, Satoru—you two certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Before you can respond, she pulls you into a warm embrace—the scent of her perfume faint and comforting as you relax into her familiar touch.

“Gosh, it’s been too long,” she murmurs before stepping back to look you over with an approving nod. “You look incredible.”

Satoru jumps in—his arm slipping slightly around your waist, pulling you closer as he leans in with a low chuckle.

“Doesn’t she?” His voice is rich with affectionate pride, and his fingers lightly trace circles on your hip absentmindedly. “It’s almost unfair, isn’t it?”

The warmth of his words lingers in the air, and you can’t help but feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest as his gaze holds yours with an intensity.

Shoko’s dramatic groan breaks the spell. She rolls her eyes with exaggerated flair—crossing her arms over her chest as a playful grin tugs at her lips.

“Ugh, you two are too cute together—it’s almost sickening.”

You let out a soft laugh, glancing sideways at Satoru with a knowing smirk.

“Mmm... well, we try.”

Satoru’s smirk only widens as he holds you even tighter.

“Do we?” he teases. “I wasn’t aware we were being watched.”

Shoko rolls her eyes again, clearly unimpressed with his feigned ignorance.

“Oh, please,” she drawls sarcastically, lightly flicking a hand toward the both of you. “It’s hard not to notice when you two waltz in looking like you own the place.”

You can’t help but grin in response, shaking your head at her comment.

“Oh, come on. Says the woman who makes even casual elegance look like high fashion.”

Shoko’s smirk grows as she readjusts the shawl draped elegantly around her shoulders—her burgundy gown hugging her figure perfectly—each detail carefully chosen. She straightens up, standing a little taller as she takes in your compliment.

“Mmm…what can I say? Guess I’m a natural,” she adds with a playful wink.

Before anyone can add anything further, Suguru’s smooth voice cuts in from behind, joining the conversation as he steps up beside her.

“You’re always so modest, aren’t you, Shoko?”

His calm presence and easygoing smile blend seamlessly in the group—almost as natural as the way he drapes an arm casually over Shoko’s shoulders, while his other hand pushes back a few stray tousles of his long raven hair.

As his gaze shifts toward Satoru for a moment, a playful spark flickers in his eyes.

“But… let’s not downplay the real showstopper,” Suguru’s attention slides over to you, lingering with an appreciative glance. “y/n,” he murmurs, “you’re absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You can’t help but blush lightly—feeling the warmth and sincerity of his compliment. You manage a soft smile.

“Aww, thanks… you’re too kind, Suguru.”

Suddenly the atmosphere shifts—Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, and the low, unamused hum that rumbles through his chest makes his feelings on the exchange very clear.

“Kind, hm?” His gaze slides from you to Suguru, narrowing with a protective edge. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Suguru’s grin widens, clearly savoring the reaction he’s drawing out from his friend. There’s a certain satisfaction in the way his lips curl upward—knowing full well the tension he’s provoking.

“What?” He tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence. “I’m just calling it like I see it. And believe me, everyone’s seeing it tonight. y/n’s drawing the most attention.”

For a moment, the air between the two men thickens, and Satoru’s hand tightens ever so slightly around you.

“Mhm… she always does.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained with Satoru’s reaction, and without missing a beat, he saunters over—casually draping an arm over Satoru’s shoulders—a gesture that both diffuses and provokes in the same motion. Pulling his friend in slightly, he shakes him playfully with an unwavering grin.

“Oh yes, of course,” Suguru replies smoothly. “I mean, some people just have that natural charm. I’m sure half the room is probably wondering ‘who is that stunning woman on your arm.’”

Ah… the familiar dynamic between them is at play. It’s almost like clockwork—the way Suguru knows how to needle Satoru without truly ruffling his feathers. Their friendship has always been this way—filled with teasing, and light jabs—but under it all, there’s a solid foundation of trust.

Suguru is his best friend, after all.

Rolling his eyes, the grin tugging at the corners of Satoru’s lips betray him. He shrugs Suguru’s arm off his shoulders—giving him a light shove.

“Yeah, well... they can wonder all they want,” Satoru quips, casual but pointed. He shifts, and before you can react, he takes your hand, guiding you toward him in one fluid motion. Holding you close, he presses a tender kiss to your temple—the warmth of his lips sending a flutter of butterflies through your chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s with me,” he murmurs.

Suguru leans back slightly, clearly amused by how things are playing out, and his smirk widens—he can’t resist throwing in one last comment.

“Ahh… but if you’re not careful… someone might just steal her away.”

The words hang in the air, and for a brief second, everything feels charged—like a storm on the horizon. You can feel Satoru’s body tense ever so slightly, his fingers tightening on your waist. Suguru’s teasing is nothing unusual, but tonight... tonight it feels different. The thought of testing Satoru right now seems almost… dangerous.

Maybe it’s the setting, the way you’re dressed, or maybe it’s the fact that you both know he’s holding more than just your hand tonight.

The remote.

Fucking hell…Suguru may think he’s getting under Satoru’s skin, but you know better. Tonight is not the night to test Satoru’s patience.

Before the tension can build further, Shoko, ever the master of diffusing, steps in with a smirk and a light nudge to Suguru’s side.

“Well, it’s good to see nothing’s changed,” she remarks, full of playful exasperation. “Still managing to get under his skin, I see.”

Suguru chuckles, his smile widening as he throws his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s a gift,” he says with an exaggerated shrug.

Satoru’s grip on your waist loosens, the tension that had been simmering, melting away like snow under the sun from Shoko’s well-timed comment.

Oh, Shoko. You could kiss her right now—tonight, of all nights, you really needed that—needed her.

Satoru hums in response, the sound low and laced with mock approval as his gaze flickers between Suguru and you—his lips curving into a teasing smile.

“If by gift, you mean an annoyance, then sure,” he murmurs.

“Eh. Same thing,” Suguru shrugs, smiling—not phased in the slightest by Satoru’s retort.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head in mock disapproval at the two of them.

“You two are impossible…” you murmur.

Before anyone can say more, a gentleman in a sharp suit approaches Satoru—tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Mr. Gojo, I believe the event coordinator needs a word with you about the auction details.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker briefly with irritation at the interruption, but ever the charmer, he covers it with a polite smile.

“Of course,” he responds smoothly. Before stepping away, he turns to you—lifting your hand gently into his own. His lips brush against your knuckles in a tender, lingering kiss, sending a soft warmth radiating through your chest. “I’ll be back in just a moment, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

You manage a smile as you watch him walk away, and as soon as Satoru is out of earshot, Shoko leans in closer to you—her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Sooo, how are things really?” her eyes gleam with playful curiosity. “Satoru keeping you on your toes?”

Well… that’s one way to put it—if only she knew half of it. You take a small breath, glancing briefly at Satoru as he moves across the room.

“Yeah…” a soft, fond smile spreads across your face. “You could say that…”

“Well,” she chuckles, patting your arm gently, “I’ll give you this—two years with Satoru? You deserve a medal,” she teases. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. Seems like just yesterday we were all at this gala, two years ago. Remember?”

“How could I forget?” you murmur, your voice dropping slightly as you recall that night, still so vivid. “It was... intense.”

Shoko grins, her eyes bright with recollection.

“Intense?” She shakes her head. “You two practically set the room on fire. The way he looked at you that night? I swear… I thought the whole world was going to stop spinning.”

Her words bring a slight flush to your cheeks, and you can’t help but smile at the memory.

“And now, look at you…” Shoko continues, her tone softening with affection. “Two years in, and he’s still completely wrapped around your finger.”

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth flutter in your chest.

“Well…he’s persistent, I’ll give him that,” you admit, your fingers absentmindedly twisting the ring on your hand—a gesture you do without thinking.

Ah…but it’s not the ring you want it to be.

Shoko notices the subtle movement, her eyes flicking to your hand before she gives you a knowing smirk.

“Oh, please,” she teases, flicking a hand toward you with a playful roll of her eyes. “Persistent? The man’s practically obsessed. Not that I blame him, of course.” She gestures to your gown—the fabric shimmering under the soft lights. “Seriously. You do look stunning, as always.”

You chuckle softly at her compliment—shaking your head. “Thanks, Sho.”

From the side, Suguru, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally steps forward, his smile soft and genuine.

“Man… two years already, huh?” he remarks, rich with sincerity—his gaze shifting between you and where Satoru had gone. “You and Satoru... I never would’ve guessed it back then, but now? It just makes sense.”

You tilt your head slightly, genuinely intrigued by his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, meeting his gaze.

Suguru chuckles, a warm, low sound.

“I mean… you balance him out. He needs someone like you—someone who can handle him and keep him grounded. You keep him on his toes, but you also... well, you make him better.”

His words catch you off guard—you feel your heart swell and a faint blush paint your cheeks.

“I never thought about it like that,” you admit, offering him a soft smile.

“Well, it’s true,” Suguru replies, his smile widening as he casually shoves his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know he’s not the easiest guy to deal with, but with you? He’s found someone worth changing for.”

You blink, his words sinking in, and you feel the weight of the compliment settle in your chest. It’s not often people see beyond the surface of Satoru and his larger-than-life persona, but Suguru always had a way of getting to the heart of things.

“Thanks, Suguru. That... that means a lot.”

Shoko, sensing the tender turn of the conversation, steps back in with her usual playful demeanor—her smirk returning in full force.

“Alright, alright,” she interjects with a mock sigh, “Enough of this heart-to-heart. I’m off to find a drink before this turns into a therapy session,” she jokes, giving your arm a light squeeze before she starts sauntering off toward the bar.

You and Suguru are left standing there as you watch her go—his head shaking slightly with amusement.

“She’s always like that…” he murmurs, half to himself.

You’re about to respond, to make some lighthearted comment in return, when the world around you suddenly shifts—tilts, really, in a way that sends a jolt of warmth radiating through your core. It’s subtle, barely noticeable at first, but your body betrays you—stiffening as a wave of unexpected pleasure coils low in your stomach. Your breath catches, and before you can even process what’s happening, a soft gasp slips past your lips.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Not now.

Suguru, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the sudden change in your demeanor—he continues talking, oblivious to the soft hum of the Hula beads that have sprung to life inside you. But you know. You know exactly what’s happening.

Satoru.

The soft, torturous vibrations pulse through you, teasing, building in intensity just enough to make your legs wobble slightly. It’s maddening—the way the beads twist and hum with perfect, controlled precision, sending sharp, undeniable shocks of pleasure through your core—the kind that makes your knees want to give out if you’re not careful.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to maintain your composure, nodding along to whatever Suguru is saying. God… what is he even saying? His words are little more than background noise to the mounting pressure building inside of you.

Fucking Satoru.

You’ve been left alone for all of two minutes, and he’s already playing with you. Already reminding you who’s in control tonight.

Your pulse races as you glance around the room, frantically searching for him—and there he is, across the room, casually speaking with someone. His white hair catches the soft light, making him stand out even in the crowd, and his gaze is focused on the conversation—until it’s not. His eyes flick over to you, locking with yours in a way that feels like a tether between you both.

And then he smirks.

The kind of smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your chest tightens as the vibrations inside you shift—deeper, more intense—and you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You want to scream, to curse him from across the room, but you can’t. Not with Suguru standing right here.

“y/n?” Suguru asks softly, concerned. “You alright?”

Oh God…are you obvious?

You swallow hard, nodding quickly. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, clearing your throat. “Just… the room’s a bit, erm… warm.”

Warm? That’s the best you could come up with?

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing that something’s off, but too kind to push it. Instead, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile—his hand coming to rest gently on your arm. It’s a simple touch that would normally be comforting, but right now, it only heightens your awareness of the relentless pulses inside you—and Satoru’s own relentlessness.

Because then, without warning, the Hula beads kick up in intensity.

The sudden surge of vibration hits you like a shockwave, and you nearly double over from the sensation as it reaches your clit. Your knees almost give out, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to gasp aloud. The vibrations aren’t just subtle anymore; they’re deep, insistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each agonizing pulse.

Fuck.

Your breath hitches, and you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself grounded. The wet heat building inside you feels like it’s going to explode. You glance back at Satoru—catching sight of his unwavering gaze—and in that brief, charged moment, he mouths the words to you slowly, deliberately:

You’re mine.

Your cunt drips. Oh God… he’s doing this because of Suguru—reminding you that no matter who you’re talking to, no matter who you’re with, you belong to him.

A flush of heat spreads through your cheeks, and you quickly turn your attention back to Suguru, hoping to hide the storm brewing inside of you. He continues speaking, but you barely hear him. Every nerve in your body is too focused on the pulsing hum—on the way your body reacts involuntarily to every shift in vibration.

Oh, Shoko—you could strangle her.

If she hadn’t left you alone with Suguru, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here on the brink of losing control, struggling to keep your legs from buckling under the pressure of the relentless pleasure surging through you.

Your gaze snaps to Satoru, and for a brief, charged moment, he meets your eyes. His hand slips into his pocket, his expression infuriatingly smug, as if to say, Remember who’s in control.

The vibrations surge even more—your entire body tensing. It’s too much.

You’re so close—too close. Your pussy quivers as you teeter on the edge of release, and all you can do is bite your lip to stifle the whimper that’s threatening to escape.

But just as the pressure coils and the pleasure peaks—right when you’re about to fall over the precipice—everything stops. The vibrations cease entirely, leaving you trembling and breathless—your body screaming for a release that’s been snatched away.

You blink in shock—your legs weak as your slick drips down your thigh—the sudden loss of sensation leaving you reeling.

Ready to shoot Satoru a glare, the moment you look in his direction you barely register the fact that he’s already moving towards you and Suguru with long purposeful strides—and in seconds, he’s standing beside you.

“So sorry to interrupt,” his hand slips around your waist—pulling you flush against him as his thumb brushes lightly over your hip. “But I think I’ll be stealing her away now.”

Suguru chuckles, unaware of the game Satoru’s been playing—or just how close you came to unraveling right in front of him.

“Tch… already?” he tilts his head, grin widening. “We barely had a chance to catch up.”

Satoru doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking from Suguru to you—eyes dark with intent.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll all have time for that later…” his tone is casual, but there’s a hidden edge beneath the surface, and when his eyes meet yours, there’s a dangerous glint—a silent promise that makes your breath hitch and a shiver run down your spine. “Right now,I need her,” he smirks.

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over you—lingering a moment too long as if noticing the flush of your cheeks, the way you’re clinging to Satoru’s arm a little more tightly than usual.

With a theatrical sigh, he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Guess I’ll go find Shoko then, so I don’t have to be the third wheel.” As he takes a step back, he gives you one last playful glance. “But don’t hog her all night, Satoru,” he warns teasingly even as he steps away. “I expect to get at least one dance later.”

Satoru chuckles dismissively—his focus already shifting entirely to you as Suguru fades out of existence. “Yeah, right… not happening,” he mutters under his breath.

The moment Suguru’s out of earshot, Satoru tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body flush against his. A slow smirk tugs at his lips the moment you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal—his cock, hard and unyielding, pressing into you.

“You looked like you were about to fall apart back there, sweetheart,” his lips brush your ear as he tenderly trails his fingers through your hair. “Tell me… you were so close, weren’t you?”

Your breath stutters as his hand slides slowly, possessively down your back. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your dress, making your body shudder as he lingers just above the curve of your hips. Your cunt aches for the release he denied you.

“Satoru…you’re... so unfair.”

“Unfair?” he chuckles, pulling back slightly and running his thumb tenderly across your lower lip—watching your breath hitch at his touch. “Oh, princess… if only you knew…” His voice drops lower—lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “I want to drag you away and show you just how unfair I can be.”

You bite your lip, stifling a moan—the heat pooling between your legs. Your hand instinctively rests against his chest, fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his tuxedo—feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat mirroring your own. Your lips part as you take in a shaky breath.

“Take me somewhere right now… I don’t care where, just… please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Your voice is breathless, desperate, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see the shift in his expression—his cock twitches in his pants and his eyes darken with raw desire. He clenches his jaw and breathes sharply through his nose, almost as if he’s trying to regain control. As he lowers his forehead against yours, you feel his hand drop from your hair to grip your hips possessively.

“Fuck...” he growls softly, “You have no idea how hard you have me. Every time you look at me like that...” he exhales, his fingers pressing harder into you as his gaze drops to your lips. “…I just want to take you right here.”

His touch slides lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before they begin to glide back up, slipping teasingly over the small of your back. It’s an innocent enough motion to anyone watching—but the way his fingers linger, the way his body presses into yours, it sends a tingling wave of heat to your pussy.

“If we weren’t in public right now…” his voice rumbles against your skin as he nuzzles into the delicate curve of your neck, “I’d have you on your knees, begging for me. I’d make you scream my name so loud, the only thing you’d be able to think about is how much you fucking need me.”

Your knees nearly give way at the intensity of his words, but his strong arm tightens around you, steadying you. You whine as his fingers rise up to weave through your hair again, tugging gently as his other hand returns to your waist, trailing down slowly before gripping your hip again.

“Mmm… but not yet,” he whispers, dripping with control. “Not here.”

You let out a soft, frustrated groan, leaning into his chest, craving more—craving him. His infuriating smirk brushes against your skin, and he hums in amusement. He pulls you back to look at you, his hand coming up the tenderly cup your cheek.

“Come now,” he murmurs affectionately, “You’ll behave for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”

You exhale heavily, rolling your eyes despite the tight knot of desire twisting inside you.

“Yes...” you mumble.

His eyebrow arches as he leans in, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I’ll behave,” you huff in frustration.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugs at Satoru’s lips as he pulls back. He caresses your hair once more and presses a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, the words wrapping around you like a promise. “Because if you don’t… I’ll fucking ruin you later.”

Oh, you know he will—and you’ll love every second of it.

❥

The night was going smoothly. The opulent charity gala had everything: fine champagne, crystal chandeliers, and the hum of soft conversation drifting through the ballroom. Satoru had barely left your side, his hand lingering on your waist, warm and magnetic—making you feel like the queen of the event, and every glance from the elite in attendance told you the same thing.

Together, you were commanding the room.

But then… she walked in.

Mei-Mei.

Her entrance was nothing short of dramatic—icy beauty wrapped in a form-fitting, silk gown that shimmered with every step and clung to her every curve. Heads turned, conversations quieted, and the air in the ballroom seemed to shift as she sauntered through the crowd with effortless grace.

Mei-Mei was made for these kinds of events. She exuded money, and it wasn’t just in her attire; it was in her entire demeanor—the confidence of someone who wouldn’t hesitate to buy anything she desired—including people. And more than anything, that’s exactly what she wanted to project.

Her sharp, catlike eyes scan the room slowly, as if weighing its worth, and you can instantly feel the moment her gaze lands on you—and on Satoru.

Once upon a time, long before you entered his life, Mei-Mei had been Satoru’s girlfriend. And her interest in him? Well… it had never been about love.

No, Mei-Mei was a woman who measured people by their value—their status, their influence, and most importantly, their wealth. Satoru had checked all the boxes—he was power personified, and she loved the way that power elevated her—until she overplayed her hand and Satoru had walked away.

The façade had cracked—once Satoru had realized what she was truly after, how she valued his bank account more than anything else, he was through. He had never spoken much about their prior relationship, but you’ve heard enough through whispers in social circles.

But Mei-Mei? She’d never forgiven him for it—he had stolen away the life she had always dreamed for herself.

Now, as her eyes flick over you and Satoru, you catch sight of the challenge forming behind her sharpened smile as she immediately changes her course.

You can feel Satoru’s arm instinctively tighten around your waist, his body leaning slightly into yours—he’s noticed her too. You glance up at him, offering a soft smile—your silent way of telling him, you’re fine.

She’s not going to rattle you. Not tonight.

Her heels click in rhythmic precision against the marble floor as she approaches, and once she finally reaches you, her lips curl into a smile—sharp and precise—designed to appear friendly but lacking any warmth.

“Ah, y/n, dear,” she began, smooth as silk but dripping with condescension. “You look... cute tonight.” Her gaze flicks to Satoru for a fraction of a second before landing back on you. “I suppose Satoru always did have a thing for... simplicity.”

Oh… she wants to play?

Fine. You meet her eyes without hesitation—your unwavering smile poised and steady.

“Simplicity?” you echo, letting a carefree laugh slip through. “Oh, darling… simplicity is what makes elegance effortless. I suppose that’s a skill not everyone can master, hmm?”

For just a fraction of a second, you see it—her mask slips. Her smile falters, her jaw tightens, and her eyes narrow just a little too much. It’s quick, but you catch it.

Got her.

But Mei-Mei doesn’t like being outmaneuvered. Especially not by you.

Her eyes flick away from yours, turning to Satoru with a renewed smile��wider, as if trying to reclaim control. But you see through the charm; there’s bitterness behind it.

“Well,” she continues, voice dripping with false nostalgia, “Satoru and I were quite the power couple once, weren’t we?” her gaze flicks back to you. “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten.”

As her voice drops, like a private whisper shared between ex-lovers, you feel Satoru tense beside you. His grip on you tightens as though he’s silently urging you to ignore her. But nah—you aren’t about to back down. Not tonight.

Letting your hand trail slowly down the front of Satoru’s tux, your fingertips graze the fabric teasingly as you glance up at him, offering a soft, playful smile. His eyes soften immediately, and he pulls you a little closer.

“Mmm… but memories have a funny way of fading when you’ve found something far more fulfilling.”

Satoru responds immediately, his gaze melting into yours, the tension in his shoulders easing as his fingers squeeze your waist slightly—a silent declaration of where his loyalties lie. Your voice is sweet, affectionate, and though your words are for Satoru, they’re aimed squarely at Mei-Mei.

You catch sight of her reaction in the corner of your eye—the way her fingers clench around her designer clutch a bit too tightly—a crack of frustration leaking through her forced smile.

“You know,” she starts again, this time more pointed, “men like Satoru tend to... wander. He’s incapable of settling down, so I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”

The jab hangs in the air, and you feel Satoru stiffen beside you. He’s clearly irritated now, but it’s not her words that bother you—it’s the audacity.

How dare she throw shade at him?

Your eyebrow arches, and a light, almost dismissive laugh escapes your lips. The sound slices through her words, gentle but cutting.

“Oh, Mei-Mei…” you coo, her name slipping off your tongue with a mix of sweetness and pity. “You see, some men wander when they’re searching for something they don’t have. But when they’ve found what they truly want? They stay.”

Your words hit her like a slap disguised as a caress, and you see the moment it lands—underneath the lacy mask resting on the bridge of her nose, her eyes flash, and her smile tightens. Despite her best efforts, she tries to remain composed.

“I suppose we’ll see how long that lasts.”

You smile serenely, unbothered, and tilt your head slightly, like you’re humoring a child.

“Yes, well. Satoru’s never been one to settle for anything less than what he deserves. I suppose that’s why he left you.”

The subtle shift in her demeanor tells you everything you need to know.

You’ve won.

The frustration beneath her surface bubbles to the top, and it’s barely hidden behind the sharp scoff that escapes her lips. Her exit is quick, muttering some vague excuse before turning on her heel and sauntering away with stiff shoulders. Ahh… her movements are a bit too rigid for someone who’s pretending not to care.

Your heart swells pridefully with the satisfaction of standing your ground as you watch her go—not just for yourself, but for Satoru too. Your Satoru.

You feel his grip on you tighten the moment Mei-Mei disappears from view, and before you can even process what’s happening, he's pulling you flush against him—his body warm, firm, and incredibly close.

The heat radiating from him feels almost electrifying, and his breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.

“Fuck… do you have any idea how hot that was?”

You bite your lip—the victory was sweet, but the fire in his words make it even sweeter. A wave of heat spreads through your core.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. “God you’re perfect… so fucking perfect.”

His praise stokes the fire that’s already building within you, and you’re keenly aware of every inch of him pressed firmly on your hip—his cock twitching against you.

“Yeah…?” you grin, snaking your arms around his neck and brushing your fingers through his hair. “Do I finally get my reward?”

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he pulls back just enough to hover his lips over yours, teasingly close.

“Oh, sweetheart... you deserve so much more than a reward. I want to take you apart, piece by fucking piece.”

The intensity of his gaze and the hunger in his voice sends your mind spinning and your cunt dripping, but just as your lips part, ready to respond, the moment is shattered.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Shoko’s teasing voice cuts through the haze of desire, her playful smirk and a raised eyebrow unmistakable as she approaches with Suguru right behind her. “Auction’s about to start. Unless you two plan on putting on a show for the whole room?”

Satoru lets out a frustrated growl, his forehead pressing against yours as he takes a slow, steadying breath. His grip on your waist lingers for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold.

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters under his breath, casting a mock glare at Shoko and Suguru.

“Save it for later, Satoru,” Suguru chimes in with a chuckle, reveling in his annoyance. “There’ll be plenty of time for you two to... ‘catch up,’ after the auction, right?”

Satoru rolls his eyes but can’t help the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. Leaning down, he places a lingering kiss upon your lips.

“Later, kay?” he murmurs, “This is far from over.”

❥

The atmosphere in the room shifts as the auction begins—the hum of conversation fading to a soft murmur. A dim glow washes over the ballroom, casting a warm light that bounces off the crystal chandeliers and reflects in the glasses scattered across the elegantly decorated tables. You sit comfortably beside Satoru, feeling the warmth of his hand resting casually on your thigh beneath the table—his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your skin.

There’s a soft hum of anticipation as the auctioneer takes the stage, microphone in hand—his voice cutting through the ambient noise with practiced ease.

“And now, for our first item for the evening,” the auctioneer announces with an air of ceremony. “We have something truly special—a limited-edition necklace from the Gojo Jewelry Collection. This timeless piece showcases the elegance of infinity, adorned with rare, precious sapphire jewels, designed exclusively for this event.”

Satoru sits up a little straighter, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh. The rest of the room seems to follow his gaze as the spotlight shifts to the display case. And there it is—the necklace.

It gleams under the warm lighting, the infinity pendant catching the rays in a way that makes the jewels shimmer like stars. The design is breathtaking, a perfect balance of boldness and grace, simplicity and luxury.

You’ve always admired Satoru’s designs, but this one feels particularly special. It’s more than just a piece of jewelry; it’s a statement, a testament to his creativity and craftsmanship.

You can’t help but lean in closer to Satoru, admiration bubbling within as the pendant slowly spins on its pedestal, casting tiny flecks of light across the room.

“It’s gorgeous,” you breathe.

Satoru’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with pride.

“Mmm, told ya it’d turn some heads,” he murmurs. “Definitely one of my favorites.”

Your gaze sweeps across the room to gauge the crowd’s reaction, and then you see her—Mei-Mei—sitting at one of the prime tables, posture immaculate, her sharp eyes already fixed on the necklace with a look of pure, calculated hunger.

Of course.

Of course, she’d want his necklace—because it’s not just about the necklace itself—it’s the prestige of wearing something tied to Satoru, a statement that she could have something rare, exclusive, and coveted.

“This necklace represents timeless elegance and endless love,” the auctioneer says smoothly, offering a subtle nod toward Satoru. “And, as a limited edition, we are thrilled to offer this piece. It’s truly one of a kind, created exclusively for tonight’s event.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

Oh? Is that what it represents?

Well then—who are you to let Mei-Mei walk away with it? The idea of her winning something tied to Satoru, of her flaunting that connection, fuels a competitive spark in you.

The bidding starts, and unsurprisingly, Mei-Mei is quick to raise her paddle, her face smug with satisfaction as she bids confidently.

“Six thousand!” the auctioneer calls out, voice booming through the ballroom.

Leaning back slightly in your chair, your fingers casually brush over Satoru’s hand on your thigh. He looks at you, his curious gaze meeting yours as you offer him a knowing smirk, and he quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you lazily raise your paddle.

“Seven thousand,” a soft smile graces your lips.

Satoru’s grip tightens slightly on your thigh, and you feel the low hum of approval rumbling from him. Mei-Mei’s eyes snap toward you, narrowing in disbelief—she clearly hadn’t expected you to join in. But there it is—that flicker of annoyance. Her paddle goes up again, just as you knew it would.

“Ten thousand,” Mei-Mei counters.

The auctioneer nods in her direction. “Ten thousand! Do I hear twelve?”

Without missing a beat, you lift your paddle once more, your smile growing. “Twelve thousand.”

Satoru’s eyes glitter with amusement as he watches the subtle tension building between you and Mei-Mei. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh, fingers pressing with a bit more intent as he leans in—breath warm against your ear.

“Fuck… this is seriously turning me on way more than it should…” he mutters. “You’re going to make her lose her mind.”

You bite back a grin. “Mmm, well, that’s the plan.”

The bidding continues, but now Mei-Mei hesitates, the confidence in her posture starting to falter.

“Fifteen thousand,” you say smoothly, your paddle already raised.

Mei-Mei’s lips press together into a thin line. Her eyes flash with frustration as she debates whether to push higher. After a tense moment, she raises her paddle again, but her voice lacks its earlier bravado.

“Sixteen thousand,” a hint of uncertainty creeps into her tone.

You don’t even flinch.

“Twenty thousand.”

Satoru’s fingers tighten on your thigh again, his breath hitching slightly as he leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“God, you’re so damn hot when you’re like this,” he growls, shifting slightly in his seat from his growing erection.

Your heart races with satisfaction as your eyes lock on Mei-Mei’s once more, daring her to keep going. But the resolve in her eyes wavers. Slowly, with a barely concealed pout, she lowers her paddle.

“Twenty thousand, going once… going twice… sold to the lovely lady in the elegant gown!” The auctioneer’s gavel comes down with a decisive crack, and the room erupts into polite applause.

As the ripple of applause moves throughout the room, it’s Mei-Mei’s sour expression that you relish in most. Ah, victory feels sweet.

You lean back in your chair, turning to Satoru with a playful, victorious smile.

“Well… that was fun.”

He’s practically beaming, eyes dark with pride and something more as his hand slips up your thigh—teasingly close to your core now.

“I swear to God… I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the rest of this auction without pulling you into the nearest empty room and fucking you.”

His words make your pussy drip, but before you can respond, the auctioneer’s voice booms once again, drawing your attention back to the stage.

“And now, we have something special for the next event. This is one of our unique auction segments—where attendees have the chance to bid for a dance with one of our lovely participants. All the proceeds will go to tonight’s charity, of course.”

There’s a murmur of interest from the crowd, a few amused chuckles as people begin to sit up a little straighter. You, however, remain mostly unbothered, still riding the high from outbidding Mei-Mei— and the arousal of Satoru’s fingers caressing your thigh underneath the table.

But then, something pulls your attention back to the stage—a faint thread of confusion beginning to weave through your thoughts as you hear the list of names being read out.

Did you… just hear your name? Wait… what?

You whip your head toward Satoru—and his expression mirrors your confusion, eyebrows raising slightly. But before you can fully register what’s happening, you catch sight of Suguru across the table—grin wide, eyes glinting with mischief.

Oh no…

Your mind scrambles, replaying the events of earlier in the night. Suguru had been chatting with you, something about the auction—while you were busy being thoroughly distracted by Satoru's relentless teasing with the Hula beads. The memories blur together, but now you realize…

Oh god… you’d been so focused on the pleasure that you barely even processed Suguru’s words. Did you accidentally agree to this?

Before you can react, the auctioneer is already moving forward, inviting the women participating in the dance auction to step on stage. And there it is—your name again, clear as day, listed among them.

Satoru stiffens beside you, his grip on your thigh tightening as he whips his head toward Suguru. A pointed look flashes across his face, but Suguru, oh, Suguru—he’s practically glowing with amusement. Leaning back in his chair, his arms cross over his chest as if enjoying every second of this unfolding chaos.

“Suguru…” Satoru hisses under his breath. “Was this your doing?”

Suguru shrugs, his smirk widening in response to the clear irritation radiating from Satoru.

“What?” he says with faux innocence. “y/n agreed to it.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow and his grip on you tightens. There’s a moment of tension as you feel him lean in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he growls, “…you agreed to this?”

Your mind scrambles for an explanation, but before you can respond, Suguru’s voice cuts in again.

“It’s for charity,” Suguru adds with a playful lilt. “It’ll be fun.”

His words hang in the air like a taunt, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at Suguru—his possessive grip tightening on your plush thigh as his jaw clenches.

“C’mon Satoru. Let’s see how much your girl is worth.”

As the auctioneer repeats your name over the microphone, drawing the crowd’s attention to you, you feel every pair of eyes in the room turning in your direction. Satoru leans in closer—his breath warm against your ear.

“Fine then… I hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the teasing edge in his voice betraying the simmering tension beneath it.

Your stomach flips from the intensity of his gaze, and you hesitate for a moment—glancing between the stage and Satoru. Uh oh… the heat is rolling off him in waves—it’s clear he’s not thrilled with the idea of you being up there for everyone to bid on, but… what is that mischievous glint in his eye?

That’s a bit… unsettling.

Reluctantly, you stand—your heart racing as you smooth down your dress and make your way toward the stage. The spotlight warms your skin, and the auctioneer welcomes you with an enthusiastic gesture. But before you can fully settle into the moment, you feel it—a soft, familiar pulse deep within you.

Fucking hell. Here?

The vibrations start low, teasing, but enough to make your knees wobble slightly as you stand in front of the crowd. You glance down at Satoru, who remains seated, his eyes locked onto you with an almost predatory gleam. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk as his fingers tap lightly against his thigh—a silent admission that he’s the one behind the sudden wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

He is cruel—doing this while you’re on stage.

The auctioneer wastes no time, diving right into the event as he begins introducing each woman on stage, one by one. The crowd’s attention is fixed on the participants as the bids for each woman slowly climb higher, some reaching $5,000 before being closed off with a cheerful crack of the auctioneer’s gavel.

But as you stand there—your heart thudding in your chest as you wait for your turn—the vibrations pulsing deep inside you are a constant, teasing reminder of Satoru’s hold over you.

“And now, for our next participant—y/n!” The auctioneer’s voice rings out, and the crowd’s attention immediately shifts to you. A murmur ripples through the ballroom as you stand in the spotlight, trying to maintain your composure—but the slow, torturous vibrations leave you dripping in front of everyone.

You swallow hard as the auctioneer begins at a low price, and before anyone else can react, Satoru’s hand shoots up.

“Five thousand,” he calls out, voice steady, eyes locked on you.

Before you can process it fully, another voice cuts in, smooth and confident—Suguru.

“Seven thousand,” his gaze flickers briefly to Satoru—daring him to up the stakes.

Satoru clenches his jaw, but his gaze never leaves yours. His hand goes up again.

“Ten thousand.”

Your breath hitches—this bidding is escalating so quickly it’s making your head spin, and the relentless vibrations are driving you wild.

Suguru chuckles as he raises his paddle, enjoying every second of this. “Twenty thousand,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair.

The crowd murmurs, a few gasps here and there, but no one dares interrupt this battle of wills between the two men. You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of the beads inside you grow stronger. Fuckfuckfuck… your body reacts involuntarily, and a soft gasp escapes your lips.

Satoru notices immediately and the corner of his lips twitch up slightly. His gaze darkens, and without missing a beat, he raises his paddle once more. “Fifty thousand.”

The room falls silent, and your heart drums in your chest, racing alongside the vibrations tormenting your body. Shifting your weight slightly, your pussy hums in pleasure under the spotlight—struggling to hold yourself together.

Suguru, leans back, arms crossing over his chest as he studies Satoru, clearly impressed by his boldness. Then, just as it looks like he’s about to raise his paddle again, Satoru leans forward and his voice drops even lower.

“One hundred thousand.”

The crowd gasps. The entire ballroom seems to shift—stunned by the sheer audacity of the number.

Raising an eyebrow, Suguru lets out a low amused whistle. Then, with a smirk, he raises his hands in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. “Well, well, Satoru… looks like you win.”

As Suguru places his paddle down, the grin plastered upon his face makes it painfully obvious –he’s thoroughly enjoyed how far this has gone, and the auctioneer, momentarily speechless, quickly attempts to recover.

“One hundred thousand, going once… going twice…” he slams his gavel down with a sharp crack. “Sold to Mr. Gojo for one hundred thousand dollars!”

The applause that follows feels distant—entirely drowned out by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your wet cunt. This is torture. Your legs are weak, your pulse racing, and Satoru’s eyes are locked on you, burning with intensity.

Leaning back in his chair, a slow possessive smirk spreads across his lips.

He’s told the entire room—and you—that you belong to him.

❥

The applause disappears into background noise as Satoru grabs your hand—a grip that’s firm and relentless. There’s no time for conversation, no time for teasing words—he’s already pulling you away from the auction, weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides.

The way his body is practically humming with urgency, tells you everything—it’s an urgency that matches the pulsing throb still lingering in your clit from his playful torture during the auction.

You stumble slightly to keep up as he moves through the dim lights of the ballroom—everything blurring together as he maneuvers through tables. Once you reach the edge of the room, he guides you into one of the shadowy hallways leading away from the event.

“Satoru…” the moment his name leaves your lips, he shoots a glance back at you, dark and filled with unbridled need.

“Not a fucking word,” his grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you along. “If you say another word…” his breath hitches, “I’ll fuck you right here, against this wall. I don’t care who sees.”

Oh, he’s barely restrained—it’s a hunger that’s been building all night.

Everything fades into the background as he guides you down the empty corridor, and the moment he reaches a single door hidden at the end, he’s shoving it open and dragging you inside.

The room is dimly lit, but he doesn’t give you the time of day to take in your surroundings—no—he’s on you in an instant.

“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” kicking the door shut with his foot, his hands immediately find your waist as he presses you up against the nearest wall. “Fucking finally…” he growls, rolling his erection against you, making you gasp. “Feel that?” his lips brush against your ear as his hands slide lower, gripping your ass tightly. “That’s what you’ve done to me all night.”

“Satoru—” he cuts you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

Your head spins as his hands rampantly roam your body. He’s desperate for you—grunting as he pins you—the wall against your back, his cock between your legs. His forceful friction makes your body arch, and you can feel his smug smirk curling against your lips as you let out a soft, needy moan.

He pulls away—his lips grazing your jawline as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

“Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to sit there,” he accentuates his words with a ruthless thrust, “seeing you squirm, knowing you were soaking wet and no one else could tell?”

His lips crash back into yours, devouring you before he pulls away again.

“…watching you tell Mei-Mei off, knowing you’re mine,” his cock twitches at the memory as he grinds into you again, “fuck when you outbid her…all I could think about was bending you over that damn table to fuck you right in front of her.”

The filthy image he paints in your mind sends a surge of heat through your body, “fuck, that’s so hot…” you let out a breathless moan, your legs trembling as your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “Need you, now.”

Another bruising kiss follows, his teeth grazing your lower lip, biting down gently before releasing it. He pulls away, and your cunt drips the moment he commands,

“Turn around.”

You oblige—moving on instinct as you spin around. Your palms press flat against the cool wall and your back arches just slightly as you present yourself to him.

Completely at his mercy—exactly how you both want it.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like this."

You hold your breath as his fingers purposefully slide over your ass, and the moment his hands find the hem of your dress, he gathers the fabric in his fists and urgently bunches it up your thighs, allowing the cool air to hit the wet fabric between your legs.

“Look at you,” he coos, tugging the dress up higher. “You’re fucking dripping, baby,” your heat intensifies as his fingers trace an outline on your pussy. “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked… wearing these beads all night… so wet for me.”

As he tugs your drenched panties down in one fell swoop, his fingers trace the slickness of your cunt—curling between the thin string of the Hula beads.

“You took them so well… now let me show you what comes next.”

You shudder as he slowly, torturously starts to remove them—the device dragging against your sensitive core, making your knees tremble. He hums in approval as the last of the Hula beads slip out.

But as you exhale shakily, Satoru doesn’t give you a moment to recover.

“—‘toru!” his hands grip your hips firmly as he forcefully guides to towards a nearby vanity—positioning himself behind you as he pushes you down in front of the mirror.

“You’ve had your fun baby, but now it’s my turn,” as the words leave his lips, you hear the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper sliding down—the urgency is evident in the way his hands work to release himself. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”

You gasp the moment his free cock presses against your bare skin, and your pussy grows more wet from the sound of him stroking himself, mixed with the shallow breaths escaping his lips.

Once you catch sight of his reflection in the mirror—cock in hand, eyes dark with lust, jaw clenched with restraint—fuck you know. He was feral.

His weeping tip lines up against your entrance.

“Look at you, trembling already…” he coos, rubbing your combined slick with his dick. “So desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Your head drops down and your legs quiver as he teases your entrance—fucking hell what is he waiting for? It’s maddening. You want to be filled, to finally feel the sweet release you’ve been tortuously denied all night.

Glancing up, you catch sight of his infuriating smirk in the reflection.

“Satoru, please hurry up,” you whine as his cock brushes against your clit.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Patience princess.”

You can’t wait.

Without his permission, you rock your hips back, and he slides in effortlessly as you take him in with one swift motion. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as his thick cock becomes soaked in your wetness, stretching you full.

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath—his grip on your hips tightening as he struggles to hold back the urge to burst inside you the very moment he bottoms out, right then and there. Your cunt is too fucking good.

"Fucking—wait, wait, wait," he hisses through clenched teeth—his cock twitching and his eyes fluttering shut as he quickly tries to steady himself.

You bite your lip, trembling as you watch his reaction in the mirror—the way he’s flexing…shuddering… oh god. How can you wait?

“Satoru… nngh,” your hips roll against him in slow deliberate motions, “haa—can’t wait anymore.”

His eyes snap open at your words, watching your reflection as his jaw clenches with unbridled restraint. He pursues his lips and exhales through his nose—and in that instant, there’s an immediate shift in him—a moment of pure unadulterated lust.

“Needy little thing…” his grip is, forceful, bruising as he growls, “goddamn it, princess…you couldn’t fucking wait. Fine.”

Oh, you’ve done it now.

Pulling back, he removes his dick just enough to slam forward with a brutal force that makes you cry out in pleasure. You drop your head on the vanity surface, gasping as he buries himself deep inside you.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He sets a brutal pace, each thrust harder as your pussy stretches around his thick pulsing cock—it’s too much, too perfect. The pleasure courses through your veins like fire as he drives into you with a relentless ferocity, leaving you shaking.

The vanity dresser rattles under his force, and the mirror reflects every delicious second of it—your body arching, your mouth falling open, the glazed-over look in your eyes as he ravishes your cunt. But most of all, the way Satoru watches you fall apart for him—possessive and proud.

His hand moves from your hips, sliding up the curve of your body to grip your chin. You whimper as he shifts deeper, leaning forward and forcing your gaze to peer directly in the mirror.

“C’mon now, look at yourself,” he pants, ragged as his hips slam into you with an unrelenting force. “Look how fucking pretty you look taking me like this.”

The pressure coils tight between your legs and your body hums as the pleasure becomes immeasurable. You don’t even realize how your eyes begin to flutter shut—not until his grip tightens on your chin, directing it forcefully to stare at your own reflection.

“No, no. Don’t you dare look away,” he slips two fingers in your mouth and you whimper at the intrusion. “Want you to see what a good girl you are for me.”

God, your head is spinning—the sight of watching him fuck you was so… erotic.

His lips curve into a slow, dangerous smirk as he takes in the sight of you completely fucked out—desperate, needy, sucking his fingers as you try to keep your eyes open, teetering on the edge of bliss—oh his cock twitches inside you.

“Haa—yesss… that’s my good girl…so fucking pretty. Takin m’ so well.”

The rhythm of his hips becomes erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper, each one sending jolts of ecstasy rippling through you. His breath becomes labored as his chest heaves against your back, and you can tell—yes, you can feel it—you’re both so close. So fucking close.

Each plunge pushes you further toward the edge, and your moans are muffled against his fingers. The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until you can hardly breathe.

“This what you wanted?” his fingers slip out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting them before he brings his hand down, wrapping around your throat. “Tell me,” he pants, “say how fucking good I feel inside you.”

“—haa, so good…” you gasp, “’toru I’m—"

Your words are cut off by a shuddering cry as your body spasms, the intense pleasure crashing over you like a violent wave as your orgasm slams into you. Your walls tighten around him, coating his cock with your sweet slick as your body trembles uncontrollably in bliss.

“Fuuuck—that’s it, yes baby… squeeze me just like that,” his grip tightens on your throat as his hips slam into yours with reckless abandon. “So tight… fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He’s panting, his chest pressed against your back as the wet slaps of skin against skin fills the room.

His pace quickens and the overstimulation pushes you further, prolonging your orgasm. You feel your legs begin the weaken as you can barely hold yourself up against the vanity—his cock relentlessly hitting that spot deep inside you.

“’toru—fuck,” you cry, reeling from your climax, “need you to cum… please—”

His jaw clenches, and his breath shudders as he tries to hold back, but the sight of you, completely undone and begging drives him absolutely wild. With a low deep groan, his hands grip your hips as he rapidly chases his own release.

“God—fuck—anything for you… just for you, baby,” he rasps as the tension coils tight in his gut. “Shit—I’m gonna fill you up… fuck, take it all.”

His cock twitches violently as he buries himself deep with one final, brutal thrust. Your name falls from his lips in breathless broken murmurs as he erupts inside you—warm sticky cum filling you to the brim and painting your walls white.

“Haaa—yess… good girl… good fucking girl,” his hips stutter erratically and his head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut.

You feel his grip on your hip loosen as he finally comes to a stop, and for a moment, neither of you move, and neither of you speak—just the sound of your heavy breathing as his chest rises and falls heavily against your back.

His fingers begin to gently brush against your waist, tracing slow soothing patterns—a touch so tender compared to that relentless grip he held on you just moments before, and a warm shiver shoots through you as you feel his lips brush against your shoulder in a soft, lingering kiss.

“I fucking love you, y’know that?” he murmurs affectionately.

A warmth blooms deep in your chest, spreading outward from his words.

“I love you too,” there is both exhaustion and endearment in your voice as you turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, wearing a grin.

His still heavy-lidded eyes lock onto yours and a lazy, adoring smile spreads across his lips.

“Y’know…” he leans down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck, “I dunno what I did to deserve you but…” he nuzzles into your neck and his arms wrap around you, “I’m never letting you go.”

You lean into his touch and hum pensively, “Good. Cause you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles softly, holding you close and basking in the moment. Then, he grunts as he lifts himself up—wincing slightly as he finally pulls his spent cock from you. The sensation makes you both involuntarily shudder.

You sigh, leaning forward on the vanity, and with a surprising tenderness, he leans down and uses his handkerchief to begin cleaning you up carefully—wiping away the evidence of your shared pleasure.

But as his fingers brush delicately against your still oversensitive sex, a small whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks at the sound and his eyes glint with amusement, clearly pleased by your reaction.

“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, though his touch remains gentle.

Rolling your eyes, you try to hide the smile tugging at your lips by burying your face into your arms—resting against the vanity.

“Well, what’d you expect?” you huff with mock exasperation—breath unsteady as he finishes cleaning you. “After the way you were teasing me all night?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest as his fingers linger a moment too long on your inner thighs, grazing dangerously close to where you’re still tender.

“Couldn’t help it,” he murmurs, his voice dropping a register. "You make it impossible to keep my hands off you…"

You suck in a sharp breath and glance back, giving him a playful but pointed look.

"Careful," you warn. "Or we’ll never make it back."

That devilishly charming grin curls upon his lips as his hands slide up and down your legs. “Mmm… well maybe I don’t want to make it back.”

Your breath hitches as his fingertips graze your skin one last time—then, he reaches down for your panties, and you watch through the mirror how he pockets them before finally smoothing down your bunched-up dress.

You glance back and shoot him a look, earning you a wicked grin.

“You’re hopeless…” you mumble, shaking your head as you straighten up, but before you can fully stand, his chest presses against your back, and you feel his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

A soft sigh escapes him as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply.

“It’s not fair... I don’t wanna go back,” he whines. “I just want to hold you… keep you all to myself tonight.”

"We’ll have all night after this," you murmur, turning to kiss his cheek softly. "C’mon… just a little longer and I’m all yours."

He groans, and you try to break the embrace, but suddenly he spins you around and his hands drift to your hips, pulling you even closer against him.

"But I dunno if I can behave for that long…" he whispers, tenderly caressing your cheek. "You say that… but I’m already thinking about sneaking you away again. Can’t help myself."

Stifling a smile, you roll your eyes as you place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back so you can get a better look at him.

"You're lucky I love you," you say with a mock sigh, reaching up to fix the collar of his shirt and smoothing down the wrinkles in his tux.

He watches you with that same lazy, adoring smile.

"Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it, princess."

❥

As the gala comes to a close, the party moves to the outside garden, with the warm autumn night wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The chatter of guests mingles with the soft rustling of the trees, and the leaves have started turning shades of orange and red, but there’s still that lingering hint of summer in the air—a warmth that keeps the chill at bay.

There is a sense of awe in the way that the string lights twinkle above the garden, casting a soft glow over the crowd—and you stand beside Satoru amongst the masses, the warmth of his hand in yours.

But… for some reason there’s a certain energy radiating from him—something… different. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet during this last hour—a muted tension, almost like he’s… distracted?

“Satoru,” you ask softly, giving his hand a little squeeze. “You okay?”

He blinks, pulled out of whatever thoughts were clouding his mind, and turns to you with a soft smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” leaning in, his lips peck your temple, “just thinkin’.”

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

Thinking about what?

But before the words can leave your lips, the auctioneer from earlier approaches you, a bright smile on his face.

“Ah, Miss y/n, there you are,” he begins. “I hope you’ve been enjoying the event this year. I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your win tonight. Here is your necklace—it truly is one-of-a-kind.”

He holds out a sleek black box, and your eyes light up as you take it from him.

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You accept the box eagerly, your fingers moving quickly to open it, and the moment the necklace comes into view, your eyes widen. The jewels glimmer under the soft glow of the garden lights—with the intricately delicate curves and sparkling stones exuding an elegance that immediately captivates you.

“It’s even more stunning in person,” you breathe out, running your fingers over the smooth, polished metal.

Satoru peers down at the necklace in your hand, his lips curling into a subtle smirk.

“Mmm… well you fought well for it,” he teases lightly.

The auctioneer chuckles, nodding in agreement. “It was quite the bidding war. Congratulations once again, Miss y/n.” With a courteous nod, he steps back into the crowd, leaving you and Satoru alone under the twinkling garden lights.

As you turn to face Satoru, a victorious grin tugs at the corner of your lips. Holding the necklace up, you boast proudly.

“Told ya Mei-Mei didn’t stand a chance”

You’re relieved how the comment seems to make your typical Satoru return—his lips curl into a deep smirk and amusement dances in his bright eyes.

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow, “You certainly went to war for this, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you playfully huff, lifting your chin proudly. “But, let’s be honest—you did an amazing job designing it. So of course, there was no way I was letting it go. It was all mine from the start.”

He hums softly, and just as quickly as it appeared, his cocky edge easily fades into something more tender. His gaze lingers on you, making your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah well… what can I say?” he tilts his head, “I know my girl’s taste.”

My girl.

You can’t help the gentle smile that breaks across your face, your heart swelling

“You do,” you whisper softly. “I love it.”

For a moment, the world fades away as you hold his gaze—a tenderness swirling in the familiar blue depths of his eyes. Then, he takes a small step closer.

“Here,” he murmurs, taking the necklace from your hand, “let me help you put it on.”

You nod as he moves behind you, and you hold your breath as his fingers delicately brush your skin—gathering your hair to one side. A soft shiver shoots down your spine from his touch, and he lingers while fastening the clasp around the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace settles against you, but it’s the warmth of his hands that hold your attention.

After fastening the clasp with a quiet focus, his breath fans lightly over your ear as he leans in.

“There. It’s perfect.”

You raise your hand, lightly touching the pendant now resting against your collarbone, and turn to face him. His eyes aren’t on the necklace though—they’re entirely on you.

He takes a moment, letting his gaze travel over your face before meeting your own.

“You’re absolutely stunning,” he says softly, “I think it looks even better on you than I imagined.”

Your heart flutters wildly and his fingers tuck a stray lock of your hair gently behind your ear. Leaning in slightly, you melt as he pulls you in for a tender kiss. The warmth of his lips moves slowly, languidly against yours, and your hand comes up to rest against his chest—feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Just as your lips part, your eyes flicker up to meet his. There is an intensity in his gaze that catches you off guard, making your breath hitch.

Why? Why does it feel like there is something simmering beneath the surface with him tonight?

But before you can sit on that thought any more, the speakers crackle to life, breaking the quiet intimacy and drawing your attention back to the event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your incredible generosity tonight!” the announcers voice echoes through the garden. “I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s charity gala has raised an astounding amount—thanks to your support, we’ve reached over two million dollars to benefit our causes!”

Applause erupts from the crowd below, and you turn your head, listening, but your eyes flicker back to Satoru, whose demeanor shifts ever so slightly as he listens. His jaw tightens, and his gaze turns distant for a moment. It's like he’s suddenly lost in thought.

What is up with him tonight?

“And now,” the announcer continues, “to wrap up this wonderful evening, we invite you to stay and enjoy the grand firework show, which will begin in just five minutes. Thank you again for attending, and have a magical night!”

The speakers cut off with a soft crackle, and the garden fills with clapping and cheers. Yet, as you glance at Satoru, he remains in his own world. Just as you’re about to open your mouth, Suguru suddenly swings into view, his arm draping casually over Satoru’s shoulder—oblivious to the lingering tension.

“There you are!” he chimes in with a grin. Satoru clears his throat, and they exchange a quick knowing glance between each other and your brow furrows as a subtle tension begins to crackle between them.

“Mind if I steal Satoru for a quick minute?” he turns, grinning to you—but there’s an undercurrent of something more serious beneath his demeanor.

Okay… is there something going on? Whatever it is, it feels like you’re being left out of the loop.

“Uh, yeah… sure,” you watch them step a few paces away, murmuring quietly to one another—catching glimpses of their expressions. Satoru looks unconventionally nervous as Suguru’s lips move quickly. Unusual…whatever they’re discussing, it’s clearly important to have Satoru on edge.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow as you watch the two of them.

What on earth are they plotting now?

After a few moments, they return. Satoru’s still got that charged energy, but there’s a determination in his eyes. Suguru, on the other hand, is grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“What’s going on?” you ask, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Oh, y’know, charity event stuff. Nothing too serious.” Suguru shrugs.

Riiiight… he’s clearly not going to give you any more information.

You narrow your eyes at him but before you can press further, Satoru reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Suguru, catching the subtle tension, clears his throat and flashes you both a wide grin.

"Well, see you guys around," he says casually, waving flippantly. "I’m gonna grab one last drink before the fireworks start."

As he turns on his heel and walks away, Satoru’s hand gently tugs at yours, pulling you in the opposite direction—away from the crowd, away from the noise.

"C’mon," he murmurs, voice soft, almost hesitant.

You follow him, his hand gently guiding you towards a quiet stairwell that leads up to the venue’s balcony. But just as you approach the stairs, an event organizer steps into your path, clipboard in hand. She looks frazzled, her brow furrowed with stress.

"Oh! Mr. Gojo," she says, breathless, walking right up to the two of you. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’re finalizing some last-minute details regarding the auction earlier, and we really need—"

Before she can finish, Shoko appears seemingly out of nowhere, sliding up beside the woman with a smooth grin.

“Ah, don’t worry about them,” Shoko interrupts flawlessly, throwing an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “I’ve got it handled.”

The event organizer blinks, clearly taken aback, but Shoko doesn’t give her a moment to protest. Instead, she steers the woman gently back toward the crowd, already launching into some topic you can’t hear.

As they walk away, Shoko glances back at Satoru, giving him a subtle nod and mouthing “go” before disappearing into the crowd.

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can process the exchange, Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile as he tugs on your hand, already leading you up the stairs.

“What was that about?” you ask, glancing back down at Shoko’s retreating figure.

“Oh y’know… Shoko being Shoko,” he chuckles with a shrug, but there’s a nervousness to his laugh—something you’ve never heard from him before.

You narrow your eyes playfully, about to ask more, but the view from the top of the balcony cuts off your train of thought—leaving you breathless.

It’s draped in soft, glowing lights, casting a warm amber hue over the garden stretching out below. Elegant vines with autumn-colored leaves weave through the steel railings, and a gentle breeze carries with it the scent of the distant garden flowers—chrysanthemums, marigolds, and asters—a lingering warmth of late summer giving way to autumn.

The night sky sprawls out before you like an infinite canvas—stars twinkling faintly—but it's the stillness and beauty of this shared moment that makes your heart flutter. Then, the first firework shoots up into the air with a soft whistle.

It arcs gracefully against the night sky before erupting into a dazzling cascade of golden sparks, raining down like glittering stardust. You marvel how the garden below transforms into a dreamscape of warm, glowing embers. Then, another follows, this time a burst of deep red. The colors ripple and shimmer, fading into soft blues and purples, mixing like watercolors against the canvas of the night sky.

But as you stand there, entranced by the beauty of the fireworks, you slowly begin to realize that Satoru isn’t watching the sky at all.

He’s watching you.

You shift, turning your attention to him now, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous at the way he’s looking at you. Your breath hitches as he steps closer, taking your hand into his own. He lifts it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Why aren’t you watching the fireworks?” you murmur.

The sound of the next firework shoots into the sky, cutting the quiet between you and painting the night in a burst of blue. He lowers your hand from his lips and his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion—as if memorizing the feel of you.

“Because they’re not what I want to see tonight.”

The weight of his words makes your heart swell, and the softness in his voice sends a shiver through you—but before you can respond, he reaches into his pocket, and your eyes widen as he pulls out a small velvet box.

Just as he drops to one knee, another firework explodes in the sky behind him, casting a colorful hue of violet and silver over his features.

“y/n…” he smiles steadily, eyes fixed only on you. “I know I mess around a lot, and I don’t always take things as seriously as I should, but this… this is the one thing I’ve never been more sure about in my life.”

Your breath catches as he opens the small velvet box—revealing a ring inside that is nothing short of breathtaking. The centerpiece is a brilliant-cut diamond—flawless, sparkling, and catching the light from the fireworks above—shimmering in a thousand dazzling directions. The diamond is set within a delicate band of platinum, but what makes it truly special is the intricate design surrounding it.

The band curves into an elegant, infinity loop—symbolizing the eternal bond you share. Small diamonds are delicately embedded along the loop, creating a river of light and wrapping around your finger like a never-ending promise. But the Gojo family’s infinity design isn’t just in the band—it’s in the very shape of the setting, which cradles the diamond in a way that feels both secure and limitless, a perfect balance between strength and grace.

It’s more than a ring—it’s a reflection of your love, infinite and unbreakable, meant to last forever.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I’ve loved you from the moment we met, and every day since has been better than the last because you’re by my side. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I don’t want to.”

Your chest tightens and tears begin to well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. As his words sink into your heart, time seems to slow.

“So…” he takes a deep breath, his smile widening, “will you marry me?”

Another firework explodes overhead, filling the sky with shimmering gold and blue, but you barely hear it.

The only thing that matters in this moment is him.

Your tears spill over as you choke out the words, nodding quickly.

“Yes… yes, of course.”

And in that moment, the joy that spreads across his face is radiant—a pure, unfiltered happiness that lights up his entire expression. His hands, normally so steady, tremble ever so slightly as he slips the ring onto your finger.

With the ring in place, Satoru stands, and before you can say a word, he pulls you into his arms—lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in celebration. The sky explodes with bright colors as your shared laughter sings alongside the symphony of lights.

Your face buries into his shoulder as you laugh through the happy tears spilling down your cheeks—overwhelmed by the sheer joy of it all as you cling to him—as if nothing else in the world matters.

“I love you,” you whisper, muffled by his shoulder.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes shimmer with emotion. Then, his smile softens, and a thumb comes up to gently brush away a tear still clinging to your cheek.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, “for infinity.”

The words wrap around you like a promise, as real as the ring now on your finger. His lips find yours, and the rest of the world fades away. The fireworks are coming to an end, and while the final bursts fill the sky behind you, painting the horizon in brilliant shades of color—it’s the warmth of Satoru’s arms, his love, and the promise of forever, that truly lights up your world—like none other.

a/n. i feel like i went through all the emotions writing this fic lol! i was in a very smutty mood, but also in a very fluffy mood 🥰 anyways, this was super fun to create—it's not entirely halloween-esque but i guess it kind of is at the same time? 😛 i do wanna thank my amazing friend @strychnynegirl for sparking all the inspiration and helping me with this 💕 she's amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without her. thanks so much for reading ya'll ✨

tags: @fushitoru @lovebittenbyevans @genshingeeksworld @myahfig4

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valkyriexo · 2 months ago

Text

Work of Art | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Best Friend Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst (ish?), Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI, Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering, edging, Semi-public sex, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @skzdreamer13 (sorry it took so long ! ) Also... this is a bit longer then i intended it to be i got... carried away hehehe

The art studio smells like paint, the familiar scent swirling in the air as you dip your brush into a swirl of color. The canvas in front of you is slowly taking shape, the blend of pastel blues and soft pinks beginning to resemble the hazy skyline of a dreamscape you’ve been envisioning for weeks. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent on it, layering colors, fine-tuning the details, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve always loved getting lost in your work.

Across the room, Hyunjin sits at his usual spot by the window, sketchbook propped on his knee as he sketches something you can’t quite see from where you stand. It’s comfortable, familiar, the two of you working in companionable silence. Every now and then, you glance up to find him already looking at you, eyes soft and focused, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of the moment.

You’ve been friends for what feels like forever, bonded over late nights in this very studio, sharing music while you worked side by side.

It’s...... easy with him, always has been.

Hyunjin is the kind of person who understands you without you needing to say anything. He knows your moods, can read the subtlest change in your expression, and you’ve always been able to share everything with him — your art, your frustrations, your dreams. This studio was your place. You’d both stay long after everyone else left, the hum of creativity and quiet conversation filling the space between you.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your canvas toward him. His opinion has always mattered to you. Hyunjin’s eye for detail is sharp, but more than that, you trust him to be honest.

He looks up, his gaze landing on the canvas. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes softening as he takes it in. “It’s beautiful,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “There’s something... ethereal about it. It feels like a memory.”

Your heart flutters at his words, the compliment striking deeper than it should. “That’s what I was going for,” you say, stepping back to look at your painting again.

Hyunjin nods, his gaze flickering back to the painting. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just studies it with that intense focus he always has when he’s taking something in. Then, quietly, he says, “You always manage to put so much feeling into your work. It’s one of the things I... admire about you.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart skip, something unspoken in the way he says those last words. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, his eyes still fixed on the canvas, but there’s an underlying tenderness that you can’t quite ignore.

You open your mouth to respond, to say something — anything — but the air feels thick with something you can’t name, and before you can find the right words, the door to the studio swings open.

Han walks into the studio, a burst of energy and excitement trailing in his wake. He’s carrying a bag of takeout, the aroma of food filling the air as he enters. His face is lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement.

“Hey, everyone!” Han’s cheerful voice fills the studio as he strides in with takeout. “Thought you might be hungry.”

You turn to greet him, your mood lifting at the sight of his familiar, easygoing smile. Han sets the bags of food on the table with a casual grace. “I brought some takeout. Figured you two could use a break.”

“Thanks, Han,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. You catch Hyunjin’s reaction from the corner of your eye. His smile tightens just a fraction, and he shifts his gaze back to his sketchbook, an unreadable expression settling on his face.

“Perfect timing,” Hyunjin says, his voice polite but lacking its usual warmth. “We could use a break.”

Han begins unpacking the food, his eyes bright as he glances at your painting. “Wow, Y/N, that’s incredible,” he says with genuine admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You smile at the praise, feeling a warm flutter at Han’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Han. I’ve been working on it for a while.”

As Han continues to unpack the food, you notice Hyunjin’s shoulders are tense, his focus remaining on his sketchbook. There’s a subtle shift in the air, a change you can’t quite place but that feels almost tangible.

“Mind if I join in?” Han asks, setting up a plate of food for you and Hyunjin. His casual tone and easy smile make it clear he’s just as comfortable here as he is anywhere else.

“Of course,” you reply, “It’s good to have you here.”

Hyunjin finally looks up, his gaze fleetingly meeting yours before he returns to his sketchbook. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a break,” he says, his tone once again polite but detached.

As you all sit down to eat, you find yourself drawn into Han’s stories and jokes, your laughter mingling with his. It’s clear that you’re enjoying his company, and you can’t help but notice how his presence brings a different kind of energy to the studio.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains subdued. He joins in the conversation, but his responses are brief, and his attention seems.....

....divided.

The studio hums with the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of utensils as Han continues to engage with you and Hyunjin over lunch. His attention is focused on you, and you can’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.

Lately, Han has been visiting the studio more frequently. At first, it was just a casual drop-in here and there, but recently, he’s been making it a regular thing. The three of you have been spending a lot of time together, discussing art, sharing ideas, and even grabbing lunch like today. His presence has added a new dynamic to your studio time, and you can’t deny that it’s been refreshing.

When Han started coming around more, it felt like a natural extension of your routine. He’d drop by with coffee or lunch, sometimes bringing along his own sketches to work on. You found some joy in his company , and it was easy to get lost in conversation with him. His enthusiasm for art matched yours, and his friendly, easygoing nature made him a great addition to your creative space.

The more Han visited, the more you two grew close. You started to look forward to his presence, finding comfort and inspiration in his company. You’d often stay late into the evening, chatting about everything from art to life.

But with Han’s increased presence, something shifted. You noticed how your interactions with Hyunjin became less frequent. Where you used to work side by side, sharing thoughts and critiques, you now found yourself pulled into conversations with Han.

“So, Y/N,” Han starts, leaning slightly closer with a teasing smile. “How do you manage to make everything look so effortless? I’ve seen your work, and I know it’s anything but.”

You laugh, a bit flustered by his directness. “It’s a lot of practice and maybe a bit of luck,” you reply, trying to keep things light.

Han grins, his gaze lingering on you. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’d say it’s definitely more than luck. I’ve seen your paintings turn into something incredible. Maybe you’ve got a secret.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his touch and compliment. “Maybe I do,” you say, matching his playful tone. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to share it just yet.”

Han chuckles softly and reaches over to hand you a paintbrush, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Well, if you ever decide to let me in on that secret, I’d be more than happy to help you with it.” He gets a little closer, his arm grazing yours as he leans in. “You know,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “I was thinking... maybe we should test that theory. How about we paint something together one day? I’ve got some ideas and I think it could be a lot of fun.”

“That sounds interesting. What kind of ideas do you have in mind?” you reply.

Just as he starts to respond, Hyunjin, who has been quietly watching, stands up abruptly. His voice, though calm, carries an unmistakable edge. “It’s getting late,” he says, his gaze flickering between you and Han. “I think it’s time to wrap things up for today. Y/N, you should probably head home too.”

Han’s expression shifts from playful to slightly confused. “Already? I was just about to ask Y/N to—”

Hyunjin cuts him off with a firm yet polite tone. “I’m sorry, Han, but we’ve all had a long day. We can catch up on the details another time. Y/N, let’s get going.”

You glance at Han, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and surprise, before turning to Hyunjin. “Yeah, I guess it is getting late,” you agree, though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you stand up.

Han’s disappointment is evident as he offers you a small, wistful smile. “Alright, Y/N. We’ll talk about it soon. Have a good night.” His words are warm, but there’s a hint of frustration in his eyes as he gathers his things.

As Han exits the studio, you turn to find Hyunjin already heading towards the door, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He’s usually so composed, but there’s something in his demeanor tonight that feels sharp and unsettled.

“Hyunjin, wait up,” you call, catching up to him as he moves toward the entrance. The studio is now quiet, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation replaced by an uneasy silence.

Hyunjin stops and turns to face you, his gaze intense. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to rush you, but..." He pauses, his voice faltering slightly as he searches for the right words.

“Actually, never mind,” he says abruptly, his tone shifting to a forced calm. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to walk toward the door, but you reach out, your voice trembling slightly. “But, Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin stops, his back to you, and for a moment, you can see the conflict warring within him. He turns his head slightly, but the emotion in his eyes is hard to decipher.

"You've...you’ve been spending a lot of time with Han lately.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been coming by the studio more often. We’ve just been working on some ideas together.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “I’ve noticed. It’s just—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”

Hyunjin’s frustration is palpable as he crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. The usually calm and collected friend is now visibly shaken, and the intensity in his voice is unmistakable.

“Hyunjin, what's wrong?” you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Hyunjin looks up, his expression hardening. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, his voice clipped. “I’ll stop interrupting your time with Han.”

Before you can react, he turns away from you, heading towards the door. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes your heart ache, and you can’t just let him leave like this.

“No, wait!” you call out, rushing to catch up with him. “Hyunjin, please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

Hyunjin pauses but doesn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he replies, his tone flat. “I just... need some time alone. It’s better this way.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Hyunjin, don’t shut me out. We’ve always been able to talk through things. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”

Hyunjin stiffens under your touch and then turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you hadn’t expected. The usually composed and easygoing Hyunjin is now a whirlwind of frustration and jealousy, his features tense and his jaw set tight. The raw intensity in his gaze is something you’ve never seen before — a mix of hurt and anger that makes your heart ache.

You’re taken aback by his intensity. “Han’s just been trying to be friendly and lighten the mood. I didn’t think it was anything more than him wanting to hang out and have a good time.”

“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’ve been sitting here, watching him flirt with you, and all you seem to notice is how charming he is.”

Hyunjin’s voice trembles with frustration. “It’s not just about him being friendly! It’s about watching you with someone else, someone who’s clearly interested in you. And while he’s making moves, I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”

You feel a pang of guilt, your own emotions a whirlwind of confusion and concern. “Hyunjin, I—”

“Do you really not get it?” he interrupts, his tone harsh and edged. “I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been hiding it for so long, thinking maybe it would go away or that it didn’t matter because we’re friends. But seeing you with Han, seeing how easily he gets to be close to you, it’s like... it’s tearing me apart.”

He stands there, struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

“I... I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Hyunjin, I never imagined you could feel this way. I thought... I always thought you’d see me as just a friend, nothing more. Why would you ever think that—”

Hyunjin interrupts, his voice strained. “Because you are special to me. I’ve been falling for you for so long, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, but it’s killing me to see you with him when all I want is to be close to you.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself. “But I’ll give you space since it’s clear the feelings aren’t the same. I’m sorry for bringing this on you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with regret and resignation.

Before you can find the right words to respond, before you can process the whirlwind of emotions, Hyunjin turns abruptly and walks toward the door. His steps are heavy, each one echoing the weight of his confession.

“Hyunjin, wait!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back. The door closes softly behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet studio, your heart pounding.

You stand there, stunned and at a loss, the room feeling colder and emptier than before. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered. Your vision blurs with tears, and you try to hold them back, but they come uncontrollably. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that escape.

You’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but you never dared to hope he could feel the same way.Standing there, tears streaming down your face, you clutch the edges of the doorframe, trying to ground yourself.

You take a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. With trembling hands, you wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, attempting to pull yourself together.

Summoning all the strength you have left, you push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. The cool air hits your tear-streaked face, but it does little to soothe the turmoil you.

As you open the door, you come face-to-face with Hyunjin, who is standing right outside, as if he was about to come back in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you crying, and his expression shifts from pained resignation to a mix of shock and vulnerability.

You both stand there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Hyunjin's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as though he's been caught in a moment of hesitation, his own tears glistening in his eyes.

Hyunjin’s gaze drops, and he looks away, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I was just—” he starts, but his voice falters, and he wipes at his eyes quickly, as if trying to regain his composure.

As you both stand there, Hyunjin's gaze slowly meets yours. There’s a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with the urge to fix what’s been broken.

His expression softens, and with a trembling breath, he takes a step closer to you. The space between you seems to shrink as he closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate.

Without a word, Hyunjin gently places his hands on your cheeks, his touch tender and warm. His eyes search yours for a moment longer, as if asking for permission. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and filled with emotion.

The kiss is hesitant at first, but it deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and desperation. You can feel the trembling in his hands

As Hyunjin’s kiss deepens, it feels as though time stands still, the world outside the studio fading away. The intensity of the moment pushes you both backward, and with each tender touch of his lips, you find yourselves moving slowly but inevitably back into the studio, the door closing shut behind him.

The kiss continues, now more urgent and passionate, as if he’s trying to pour all the words he can’t express into this one moment.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there, breathless and slightly disheveled, still close together. Hyunjin’s gaze is tender, and he looks at you with a mixture of relief and hope.

"Why me? I don’t get it” you say.

Hyunjin’s smile widens, and he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek. “Why you? Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—kind, talented, and absolutely incredible.Because you’re like your art—full of beauty and emotion. Every piece you create reveals a part of you, and I’ve been captivated by that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to show you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time more desparetly, as if he needs to breathe and your his oxygen.

You can feel his hand slide down your body and he takes your hand in his. You feel your own heart skip a beat, and you can't help but smile as you continue to kiss, as he pushes you back allowing you to sit up on one of the tables in the studio. He takes the opportunity to put his body between your legs.

His tongue explores your mouth, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue dueling with his.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body. Your hands reach up to touch his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips, and Hyunjin lets out a low groan, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Fuck, I want you,” he growls, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly, your own desire building up inside of you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. Hyunjin’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. You arch your back, moaning as his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

“Hyunjin, please,” you beg, your hands tugging at his shirt.He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You can’t help but stare at his muscular chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs.

He smiles, looking at you, as if asking for permission with his eyes. You nod and his hands reach towards you to unbutton your shirt. You undo your bra on your own, and together both items fall to the ground. You blush as he stares at you.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently.

You moan, your nipples hardening under his touch. You can feel your wetness soaking through your panties, and you grind your hips against Hyunjin’s. He groans, both hands now gripping your hips tighter.

Hyunjin leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. You try to stifle your moan, your hands gripping his hair as he switches to the other nipple, biting down gently. His lips trail back up to your neck as his hands begin to slide down the sides of your body.

His fingers find their way to your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his fingers tracing the lines of your panties.

You moan, your hips bucking as his fingers slip under your panties and into your wetness. He strokes your clit, and you cry out, your orgasm building up inside of you. Hyunjin continues to stroke you, his fingers moving faster and faster. His fingers are long and slender, and you can feel them stroking you from the inside.

"Oh g-god, Hyunjin" you say, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Yeah? Does that feel good baby?" Hearing him call you "baby" sends a flutter through your chest, a warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. It’s not just the word — it’s the way he says it, soft and full of affection, like it belongs only to you. You’ve heard the word before, but from his lips, it feels different — intimate, tender, and so undeniably right.

Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm builds. Hyunjin kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to move inside you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. "d-don't stop" you whine. Hyunjin continues to kiss you, swallowing your cries as his pace speeds up. You grab onto Hyunjin's shoulders as you begin to ride his fingers, your body trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, as your orgasm approaches.

"Not yet," he whispers and you feel as he pulls his fingers out of you. "I want your cum on my cock."

You blush, as his hands reach down to unbutton his pants. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His erection springs free, and you can’t help but stare at it.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly.

You nod, your hand reaching out to touch him. Hyunjin groans, his hips thrusting forward as your hand wraps around his cock. You stroke him slowly, matching his rhythm. You pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip, and you could hear him whine.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says as he slowly spread open your legs. He pushes you back a little to line his tip up to your entrance.

"You ready for me?" he asks, teasingly.

"Please," you reply, desperately.

He pushes in, his cock stretching you open as he enters you. You moan, your hands gripping his arms as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first.

"Please, Hyunjin, please." You begged, as your eyes closed from the pleasure.

"God, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, back out, and back in again.

and he feels SO good.

And then he stops..... while still inside you.

Confused, you open your eyes to see a frozen Hyunjin. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I-I...." he stutters. Hyunjin’s face pales as his eyes dart nervously to the canvas behind you. "I spilled paint,” he says, gesturing to the canvas behind you. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know you worked so hard on it, and I just... ruined it.” His voice breaks slightly, and he looks away, unable to meet your gaze.

You look at the canvas, your heart sinking a little. The once vibrant colors you’d carefully layered over days of meticulous work are now smeared and distorted by splashes of dark paint. What was supposed to be a serene landscape, full of soft pastels and warm hues, is now marred by streaks of harsh, misplaced colors running down the surface.

"It was perfect, and I ruined it," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I know how much this meant to you."

Hyunjin’s hand is covered in streaks of dark paint from knocking over the paint, and you can see how the paint has seeped into the creases of his hands, clinging to him like guilt.

He stares at his hand, then back at the ruined painting, shaking his head. "I should’ve been more careful," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this... I can't believe I did this to your work."

He looks up, shocked. "Y/N..."

"Hyunjin," you say. "It's okay. It's just paint."

"But..." he starts.

You cut him off with a kiss. "I'd rather have you than the painting," you whisper. "Besides I think your art is prettier than mine."

"You...you do?"

"Mmhm," You say nodding your head."Besides....I always said I wanted you to paint me one day..."

" You want me to paint you?"

You answer his question by moving his paint coated hands together and placing them both on your chest, leaving his paint handprints right on you.

You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being so intimate with Hyunjin is incredibly arousing.

You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with desire. Hyunjin's touch is electric, and you can't help but moan as he continues to explore your body with his fingers. He moves one of his hands and traces a finger over your collarbone, leaving a trail of paint in its wake.

You feel as he begins to thrust into you again.

Your eyes close from the pleasure, and you moan as his cock fills you completely.

"Oh fuck," you say, your voice cracking. You feel Hyunjin's pace quicken as his cock continues to pound into you. His hands roam, allowing more paint to make its way onto your body. You place your hands into an open yellow and purple paint nearby and place your hands on his chest, covering him with paint as well.

"Oh fuck," Hyunjin growls, his voice hoarse with lust. He grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the table.

"Wrap your legs around me," he says.

You do as he asks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock is still buried deep inside you, and the new angle sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Hold on tight."

He begins to move again, his pace quickening as he pounds into you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you.

You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his shoulder. You can't help but cry out as your orgasm approaches.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, your body trembling. "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?" he says. "Me too."

His thrusts become faster, harder, as he pounds into you. Your cries echo in the room, and you feel him throb inside you.

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, as your orgasm hits, your nails digging into his shoulders. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your pleasure. You cling to him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans, as he comes, his cock pulsing inside you, completing the masterpiece by painting your walls.

When you finally come down from your orgasm, you look down at Hyunjin and see that he's covered in paint. His face, his hair, and even his clothes are covered in a rainbow of colors.

You can't help but laugh at the sight, and Hyunjin joins in your laughter.

"You look beautiful," he says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing your features. "Like a work of art. Something I'd spend hours admiring, and still, it wouldn't be enough." He places you back down on the table and pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.

The two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally break away.

"We should.... clean up," you say, gesturing to the paint that's covering both of your bodies.

Hyunjin nods in agreement, but neither of you move.

Instead, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We'll get cleaned up soon," he says, his voice soft and tender.

"Right now, I just want to hold you."

You smile, a wave of happiness washing over you. "I'd like that," you say, nuzzling against his chest.

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#k-labels #hyunjin #skz #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #straykids #k labels #skzstarnet #supernovanetwork #smut #hyunjin stray kids #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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ellievenus · 1 year ago

Text

Horny thoughts. That’s it.

Characters: Lyney & Neuvillette x Gender Neutral! Reader.

NSFW! MDNI

A/N: I did the quest, they made me horny. that’s it, this is messy and not proofread so please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos. literally no plot just goes in.

Lyney is the type to like wall sex, like hold onto one of your legs and fuck you onto the wall as you try to stifle your moans under your shaking hands, as the people of fontaine move in the bustling streets while you’re getting your hole ruined…

he definitely puts a hand on your thigh, and winks at you before moving his hand up… up… and up to your sex at such a slow pace that it makes you want to grip his hair and yank his smug face into it and show him what happens when he teases you…

but you can’t, not when you’re having tea and macarons with Navia, and he fucking knows that, just smiles when you let out a gasp and Navia worries, asking if you’re okay. “Oh don’t worry!” he says, with his charming smile and a tinge of tease in his tone, “They just couldn’t sleep last night!”

and whose fault was that?!

you wish you could flip the table on him.

He loves going down on you, so much so that you’re starting to think he enjoys that more than fucking you… all whines, pleading for you to cum, he just wants to taste you, fucking drown in you until he forgets who he is, until his senses are nothing but you, you and you.

Grips your thighs, makes sure to keep his nails a little long so he can dig them in your thighs and hear you hiss, also loves grabbing your ass and pushing you even more to his face when you’re cumming.

Looking up at you with cum on his face or dripping from his lips or both, loves being branded by you.

“So that magic show special I was talking abou—“

“I am NOT letting you go down on me on a stage!”

Neuvillette only likes having sex in your shared bedroom, you can drag him to your bathroom if he’s in a good mood but that’s it.

Still, that man knows how to fuck all and any attitude from you, if you have any. Loves seeing you crying and begging if you’re so good for him. Either way, you’re getting overstimulated, he always makes sure you cry or beg in some form. He likes it.

He likes light bondage, loves cuffing your wrists, or holding your hands above your head while he’s giving you a pounding that makes you see stars behind your eyes and knocks all the air out of your poor body that you have to cry out for a break.

Loves seeing how your expressions change depending on what he’a doing, likes seeing your reactions, it gets him harder than anything else.

The way your eyes widen in surprise, letting out a gasp when he doesn’t stop fucking you after you both came, you whine and cry, you babble on about how can he not even lose tempo and keep going with his thrusts as if he didn’t just cum in you.

Cute. You’re so cute.

Also into spanking, if you want it, just tell him, you don’t have to misbehave. Though, he isn’t gonna fuck you until you cum on his lap from his hand striking your ass until it’s so sore and numb that you can’t feel it for a few days.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact lyney #genshin impact neuvillette #lyney x reader #lyney x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 9 months ago

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Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]

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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]

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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.

No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.

Even if he already is aware of it…

Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.

Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.

It doesn’t last forever though.

Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.

It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.

The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.

Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.

His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.

Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.

He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.

Enough is enough.

Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.

He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.

Unruly luck….maybe?

Fate, possibly?

He’ll figure it out one way or another.

“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….

The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.

How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”

Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…

Odd…

He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.

He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.

Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..

Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.

A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.

He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.

Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.

If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”

You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.

“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.

Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…

“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…

You brought them out of him without even trying.

Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.

Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.

They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.

When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?

All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.

Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.

He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.

How sweet you’d taste?

How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?

How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?

He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…

Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.

Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?

He’s here for a reason, right?

Why grant you more agency than required?

“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.

Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.

Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.

How fortunate…

Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.

Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.

“….please don’t stop..”

“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”

Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.

Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…

“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.

The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.

Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.

Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.

Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.

Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.

“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.

It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…

You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.

It’d be pure entertainment.

However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?

By his mere presence even.

The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.

The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.

Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.

“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.

Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.

The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.

It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.

He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.

You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.

It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.

“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”

You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”

xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxx

My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤

#Spotify #alastor smut #alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastors radioshow #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #fanfic #writing prompt #writing

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eddiesxangel · 1 month ago

Text

I Do Believe In Fairies | E.M

Cw: Halloween party, reader is dressed as Tinkerbell, alcohol, anxiety, blood, fluff, meet-cute, 1.7k words.

An: this is a repost, not a lot of people saw it the first time so hopefully you enjoy 🧚

Your anxiety flourished as you walked into the dimly lit room at the back of the restaurant. Your boss was hosting her annual Halloween party, and you came alone because your work friends were meeting you there. They had planned a group costume, but you didn’t have time to go shopping, so you settled on your usual Tinkerbell.

As you scanned the room for your friends, you noticed you hadn’t seen anyone out of costume. Even the bar staff were dressed as mad scientists so that settled your nerves. You always felt weird about appearing in places overdressed or worried you would bring more attention to yourself than needed. To say you did not like to stand out from the crowd was an understatement.

Surprisingly, the night has been going well. There have been no embarrassing qualms like your wings getting stuck on someone’s face or you tripping over your heels. Your boss was in a great mood, and your mood lifted once your friends arrived and a few drinks had been consumed.

A few hours into the party, you were chatting with your friends, and they quickly excused themselves to get more food. You turn around because you don’t know what to do while waiting, and an unfamiliar but handsome face approaches you.

"Hi, I’m Eddie." He smiles.

“Hi, I’m Tinkerbell,” you giggle

“The Tinkerbell? No way.” he raises his hand to his heart and pretends to stumble back. You noticed his fingers were adorned with tattoos and plenty of silver metal rings.

“What are you supposed to be? A waiter?” You giggled, flicking his black apron wrapped around his waist, which held a notepad and pen sticking out of the pocket.

He was dressed in a sleek black button-up shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up, paired with well-fitted black dress pants and matching shoes. Around his waist, he wore a neatly tied black apron. His hair was neatly pulled back into a low bun, and his most striking feature was his incredibly large brown eyes that seemed to draw you in.

“Uh-yea? So can I get you anything? Another champagne?” He smirked.

“Very committed to the role, I see,” you state as a matter of factly, twirling your empty glass.

"Another champagne coming right up." Eddie gives you a wink and walks away.

“Hey, I’ve never seen him before. He in marketing or something?” Your friend dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo comes back and hands you a bread roll.

“I don’t know, but he’s so cute,” you whisper back.

A few minutes later, Eddie returns with your drink

“One champagne for Tink.” You quickly turn your shoulders and see Eddie, but your wings knock the glass out of his grip.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You quickly squat as much as your tiny green dress and heels will let you so you can pick up the bigger pieces of glass.

“Do you know where the staff are? I haven’t seen anyone all night. We need a mop and a broom,” you say frantically, holding broken glass in your hands.

“It’s okay, Tinkerbell. I’ll be right back; don’t move.” Eddie ran off to the back to grab the broom from the supply closet and a paper bag from the kitchen, and you continued to pick up the pieces of glass.

When he returned, you held your thumb, bouncing repeatedly like you had cut yourself.

“Fuck” you whispered under your breath. You cut your thumb.

“Here,” you look up to see Eddie holding out a bag to put the glass in and a broom in the other.

“How did you find this? Why didn’t you find someone that works here? Won’t you get in trouble?” you were rambling, and your thumb was in pain.

“Sweetheart, I work here.” He takes your hand to examine your thumb.

“What? But you-” he gently took your wrist and weaved you through the sea of monsters, witches and mummies until you got to a door that said Staff Only

“Am I allowed back here? I don’t want to get you in trouble?” you worried.

“Calm down, Tink. My middle name is Trouble. Let me help you,” he said calmly and collectedly. Being near him made you feel calm yet anxious at the same time.

“I’m sorry, but I thought you were in a costume...” You shake your head as he closes the door behind you.

The single washroom was very quiet, much more intimate than the loud, boisterous party room.

As you turned to face him, you noticed the lighting was much better in this spot. In contrast to the dimly lit party room, you could now clearly make out his features. His face was clean-shaven, with a hint of a 5 o'clock shadow starting to form. His jawline was defined, and his lips were full. You were so engrossed in admiring his features that you didn't even realize he had moved and was now standing beside you at the sink.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he smirked, turning on the faucet and guiding your hand under the water. You winced at the cold water hitting your open skin, and Eddie apologized. He grabbed a paper towel, and you wiped your wound as he unwrapped a bandaid.

“Thumb,” he asked, and you stuck it out like you were giving him a thumbs up. He wraps your thumb with concentration, his tongue peeking out as his eyes focus on your finger. He unexpectedly kisses it. “There. Good as new.”

“So how do I contact your boss to inform them about the excellent customer service?” You awkwardly giggle.

“Shit, I’m sorry, you’re uh, you’re just adorable, and I don’t know what came over me” he took a step back.

“I think you’re cute, too.” you look down bashfully

Eddie sighed with relief.

“Why don't you give me your number so I can ask you for a proper date?" He smirks.

You pass him your phone so he can enter his contact info.

A loud bang on the other side of the door startled you, and you jumped.

“Come in, Ed. We are drowning out here; get her number already, and let’s go,” his friend yells. Eddie hands you back your phone and swings open the door. Eddie's coworker is standing on the other side dressed as a pirate.

“Jesus Christ, man, we’re on the clock,” the one-eyed pirate whispers under his breath

“It wasn’t like that man; she cut her thumb, and I was-” You didn’t hear the rest because they both walked further away.

You chased after them out of the staff bathroom, not wanting to get into trouble and made your way back to the party

“Where did you sneak off to? Your friend, dressed as Shaggy, wiggled his brows at you.

“Oh, uh, cut my hand in the broken glass.” You lift your hand to show them your bandaid-clad thumb.

“Yeah, you cut your thumb,” he air quotes and laughs.

You playfully roll your eyes, and your phone chimes, so you glance at it.

Lost boy: Hey Tink, sorry I had to run off. Got kidnapped by the evil pirates. Hopefully, you’ll be able to save me with that magical fairy dust and find me after my shift. 😉

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fan fic #Eddie Munson #eddie munson meetcute

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theonottsbxtch · 27 days ago

Note

YO. hear me out logan sargeant smau where reader is alex albon’s sibling and after logan gets axed from williams (😭😭😭😭😭😭) they actually start talking

COOKIE | LS2

an: gahhh i love logan so much and i can't believe i haven't written the teammate's sister dynamic with him yet, but now i have and i hope you enjoy our favourite american x

fc: random brunette's off pinterest

williamsracing

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, mclaren and 985,382 others

we'd like to thank logan sargeant for all the time he's spent as a driver for williams racing, we wish for the best in his career as he moves on.

*tap to load more comments*

userone: this was handled badly

usertwo: im going to miss you logan

userthree: james vowles worst tp of the century

userfour: bunch of clowns

alex_albon: will miss you lo x

userfive: finally williams did one good thing

usersix: poor logan

ynalbon: will miss your smile around the paddock lo x

userseven: williams sucks

imessage between yn and logan

alex's apartment monza race week

The faint sounds of bustling activity were drifting through the apartment as you stood in the kitchen, sunlight streaming in through the large window. Alex’s sleek, modern space was a comforting mix of his racing memorabilia and the warmth of home. Pulling your phone from your pocket and glancing at the news alert once more. Logan had just been sacked and very quickly replaced. A heavy sigh escaped your lips; you knew how much this meant to him, how closely tied his identity was to the sport.

As you leaned against the countertop, you glanced down at Stan, one of your brother’s man cats, casting expectant eyes in your direction. He nudged your leg with his nose, as if sensing your mood. You crouched down, scratching behind his ears absentmindedly, your mind swirling with thoughts of Alex and the fact that he was getting ready to race in Monza with a new teammate. The team dynamics had shifted, and you couldn’t help but you could feel how the changes had affected Alex.

The idea strikes you suddenly—Logan lived across the hall, he hadn’t moved out yet. You remembered how he always seemed to light up the room, his laugh infectious even in the darkest of moments. You decided that a small gesture might help lift his spirits. Maybe a little treat would remind him that he wasn’t alone in all of this.

You set to work, gathering ingredients from the kitchen. Flour, sugar, and eggs scattered across the countertop as you rummaged through the cabinets. Stan watched you curiously, jumping up onto the counter and tilting his head as you started mixing the batter for chocolate chip cookies. The scent of melting butter and sugar filled the air, sweet and comforting, reminding you of simpler times when you spent all your time out of school baking for your brother in between his competitions.

You popped a spoonful of the thick, glossy batter into your mouth, savouring the taste of nostalgia. With each stir, your thoughts drifted back to the late-night conversations you had with Logan after the races when everyone was setting down, the way he would joke about the pressures of the track, the bond that formed between the three of you by some weird miracle.

As you shaped the dough into perfect little balls and placed them on the baking tray, the oven preheating with a soft hum. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Logan’s expression when he tasted them. You knew he had a sweet tooth, often indulging in baked goods after a long day of training.

While the cookies baked, the kitchen filled with a warm, inviting aroma. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs next to Stan. You thought about Logan again, about the pressure he must be feeling, and how a small act of kindness might brighten his day, if only for a moment.

The timer dinged, and you hopped down, excitement bubbling within you. You carefully pull the tray from the oven, the golden-brown cookies looking perfect and slightly gooey in the centre. As you let them cool down, you grabbed a small tin and placed the cookies inside, sealing them with a lid.

Stan watched as you grabbed the keys, tilting his head again as if asking where you’re going. “Stay here, buddy. I’ll be back soon, and make sure the rest of the cats don’t do anything silly” you said, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing your hair before stepping out into the hallway.

You walked the few steps to Logan’s apartment, knocking softly, the sound echoing against the walls. Moments later, you heard the shuffle of feet and the door swung open, revealing Logan, looking slightly surprised but smiling at the sight of you.

“Hey! What brings you here?” he asked, his voice coloured by his shock.

You held up the tin with a grin. “Thought you could use some cookies after. First race since you know.”

His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and appreciation crossing his face. “You made these for me?” he asked, reaching for the tin, the warmth of his smile easing the tension in your chest.

Logan grinned, his eyes lighting up even more as he popped open the tin. “These look amazing! I was just about to start a movie. Want to join?” You could tell he was figuring a way to ask.

For a moment, you considered it, the thought of settling into a cosy couch with him, laughter echoing as you watch a film together. But then you remembered the little furballs waiting for you in Alex’s apartment, their mischievous antics demanding your attention.

“I’d love to, but… I really should stay here with Stan and the rest of the cats,” you replied, feeling a twinge of disappointment yourself as you watched the initial spark in Logan’s expression flicker. His shoulders slumped slightly, and you could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“But...” you hesitated, feeling a burst of warmth rise in your chest. “You could always come over.”

His expression shifted from disappointment to surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“No, it’s fine! It’ll be fun, Alex doesn’t get back for another four days,” you insisted, trying to sound more enthusiastic. You stepped back, giving him room to think it over.

“Alright, then!” he said, his voice brightening again. “Let me just grab my keys.”

As he disappeared inside his apartment, you took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your heart raced a little at the idea of him coming over, the casual invitation feeling more significant than you had intended.

Logan reappeared a moment later, a hoodie thrown on over his t-shirt, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he looked, a sudden urge to hug him washing over you. “After you,” he said, falling into step behind you as you headed down the hallway.

As you walked back to Alex’s apartment, the air buzzed with unspoken energy. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar scents of cookies enveloping you. Stan greeted you with an enthusiastic brush of his body against your legs, bounding over to Logan, who bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.

“Looks like you’re already popular,” you teased, watching as Stan practically flops onto his back, craving attention.

“I have a way with cats,” he replied with a grin, straightening up and looking around. “So, what’s on the movie menu?”

“Cars? Mine and Alex’s favourite. You can pick—unless you want to help me wrangle the cats first,” you laughed, walking over to the living room where a large, comfy sofa waited. You felt the soft cushions call to you as you settled in, motioning for him to join you.

He took a seat beside you, and you couldn’t help but notice how easily you fell into conversation, the nerves dissipating as you laughed and joked around. Pulling the tin of cookies onto your lap, you offered him one. Logan took a generous bite, his eyes widening in delight.

“Wow, these are incredible! You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, and you couldn’t help but beam at the compliment.

“Thank you! They’re a family recipe, so you know they come with some serious baking credentials,” you said, a playful glint in your eye.

As you scrolled through the movie options, the atmosphere felt easy and relaxed. For the first time since Alex left you before Monza you didn’t feel to lonely.

The opening credits rolled, and for a moment, you sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the cookies and Logan’s presence wrapping around you like a cosy blanket. You glanced sideways at him, catching him grinning at the screen, and your heart swelled a little more.

You were glad you made those cookies now.

ynalbon

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussel63 and 34,5827 others

baking and night in >>

*tap to load more comments*

userone: she is so pretty

usertwo: KATCHOW

userthree: i need her to bake me something stat

logansargeant: best cookies known to mankind

userfour: wait-

userfive: oh..?

alex_albon: now wait a god damn minute

usersix: my fav ever

userseven: someone needs to study the albon family genes

alex_albon has posted a story

alex’s apartment singapore race week

The hallway felt familiar under your feet now, the subtle creak of the floorboards as you crossed from Alex’s door to Logan’s. It had become a kind of routine, these quiet visits to each other’s apartments while you were housesitting. Sometimes it was to share a plate of freshly baked cookies or just to unwind after a long day. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with him, a shared understanding that neither of you had to say much to enjoy the other’s company.

As you knocked softly on his door, you didn’t expect anything unusual. But when the door opened, the first thing you noticed was the packed bag by the entryway. Your smile faltered just a little, your eyes flicking from the luggage to Logan, who stood in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a slight tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He stepped aside to let you in, but the bags remained in your peripheral vision, a silent question hanging between you.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Going somewhere?”

Logan glanced at the bags, then back at you, his lips pressing together for a moment. “Yeah… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m heading to America for a few weeks. Got an offer to test for Indy.” His voice was calm, but you caught a hint of something else underneath—maybe uncertainty or excitement.

Your stomach dropped just a little at the news. It shouldn’t surprise you—racing had always been his world, his dream—but it still hit harder than you had expected. “America?” You repeated the word softly, trying to wrap your mind around the distance.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s not set in stone, but they want me to test, see if I’m a good fit.”

“That’s… amazing, Lo,” you said, a genuine smile tugging at your lips despite the sudden knot in your chest. You’d always known he was destined for more, something bigger than these quiet evenings in a shared hallway.

“Thanks,” he replied, his own smile faint but appreciative. He watched you closely, as if gauging your reaction.

You stepped further into the room, glancing once more at the bag, before turning back to him. “I’ll miss you,” you admitted, the words coming out before you could think to soften them. It was the truth, plain and simple, though you hadn’t realised how much his presence had come to mean to you until now.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, something softening in his expression. “I’ll miss you too,” he said quietly. His words were steady, but there was an unmistakable sincerity behind them, as if they meant more than he’s letting on.

The air between you felt heavier now, filled with the things neither of you were saying. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—just the weight of the realisation that something had shifted.

You laughed softly, trying to break the tension. “Guess I’ll have to bake my cookies for Stan instead.”

Logan chuckled, though there was still a warmth in his eyes that made your heart ache just a little. “Yeah, I’ll bet he won’t mind. But I’ll miss them… and you.” He said it again, the words lingering in the space between you.

You both stood there, neither quite knowing what to say next. The easy back-and-forth you’d grown so used to had shifted into something more meaningful, something deeper. And as much as you were happy for him—excited for the possibilities ahead—there was a small part of you that wished you could keep these moments just a little longer.

“When do you leave?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

Tomorrow. It felt so soon, so sudden, but you nodded, offering him another small smile. “Well, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

He stepped closer then, just a little, as if drawn to you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You nodded again, but the reality of it felt different, like something precious slipping through your fingers. And yet, there was no bitterness, only a quiet acceptance that this was the path he’d always been on.

You gave Logan one last smile before turning back toward the door. “I'm going to head back to the cats.”

As much as you hated the thought of him leaving, there was nothing more to say. His world was racing, and you knew how important this opportunity was for him. Stan and the rest of the cats would be wondering where you are by now, and you began to tell yourself it was better not to linger.

Your hand was on the door handle when you heard his voice, quiet but insistent.

“Wait.”

You stopped, heart skipping a beat, and turned back toward him. He was standing in the middle of the room, his brows slightly furrowed, as if debating something with himself. His eyes met yours, searching for a moment, and then he took a step toward you.

“Don’t go yet,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Something shifted in the air between you, the tension tightening around the words you hadn’t spoken. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he closed the space between you. His hand reaching out, brushing against your arm, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

“Lo…” you started, your voice catching in your throat, but the look in his eyes made your heart race. There was no need for words now. You’d shared so many moments, so many small, unspoken things, and suddenly it all felt like it had been leading to this.

He leaned in, and everything else fell away—the packed bags, the uncertainty, the days apart that lay ahead. His lips met yours gently at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then something deeper took over, the kiss becoming more sure, more real.

You sank into it, your hands instinctively finding his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as if to hold on to him, to this moment. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing softly along your cheek, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect.

The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to just the two of you. It was everything you didn’t realise you’d been waiting for—his closeness, the feel of him, the quiet intensity in the way he pulled you toward him as if he was afraid to let go.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless, standing there in the stillness of his apartment. Your forehead resting against his, the shared warmth between you a quiet comfort. Neither of you spoke right away, but the weight of what just happened lingered in the air, filling the silence with unspoken promises.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Logan finally said, his voice rough, almost a confession. He still hadn’t let go of you, his hand sliding from your cheek to your shoulder, as if grounding himself in the moment.

You let out a shaky laugh, your own hands still resting against his chest. “I’m glad you did.”

He smiled then, that soft, crooked smile that had always made your heart skip a beat. “I really am going to miss you.”

Your chest tightens at the words, but this time, there was a new kind of warmth behind them. It was no longer just a casual statement—it was filled with meaning, with everything that passed between you in that kiss.

“I’ll miss you too,” you whispered, your voice soft as you leaned into him again, the closeness between you now something tangible and real.

For a moment, neither of you moved, standing there in the middle of his apartment, lost in this bubble you’d created. But then you heard the faint sound of probably Stan scratching at the door across the hall, and it brought you back to reality, reminding you of the world outside.

“I should go,” you said reluctantly, your forehead still pressed against his, though now you were reluctant to pull away.

Logan nodded, his thumb brushing your skin one last time before he stepped back. “I know.”

You moved toward the door, this time with a weight in your chest that felt different—full of things you still wanted to say, but that could wait for another time. You glanced back at him one last time, his eyes following you, filled with the same mixture of emotions you felt.

“Good luck,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the doorknob. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, and the sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart.

ynalbon

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, lilymhe and 32,382 others

missing my cookie (also looky says hi)

*tap to load more comments*

userone: NO SHES IN A RELATIONSHIP KILL ME NOW AND MAKE IT QUICK

usertwo: there goes my chance

userthree: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET IT BE SOME MEDICORE BORING MAN PLEASE GOD PLEASE

userfour: we lost her ☹️☹️

alex_albon: i think you have something to tell me

lilymhe: i think you have something to tell US

ynalbon: oh wont you look at that, looky has started cooking dinner, need to go help out!

userfive: now who the heck is cookie

usersix: i think i know what’s happening 🤭🤭

logansargeant: that’s one grumpy ass cat

alex_albon: watch how you talk to my kid

ynalbon: yeah watch how you talk to my nephew

alex_albon: i thought you needed to go help looky cook?

ynalbon: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

userseven: FUCK I THOUGHT SHE WAS FOR THE GIRLIES NOO

alex's apartment autumn break

Walking into your Alex’s apartment, you were greeted by the familiar scent of coffee and the quiet hum of an afternoon sports program playing in the background. Stan padded over to you, meowing as you bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.

“I’m just grabbing my jacket,” you called out, heading toward the living room where Alex was sprawled on the couch, watching something about Premier League Football.

He glanced up from his phone, half-focused on the screen and half on you. “Sure, no rush.”

You pulled open the closet door and rummaged around for the jacket you left here the other night, the one you’d forgotten in the rush to go pick up said brother from the airport because “he was too tired to drive home”. As you tugged it off the hanger, Alex’s voice cut through the silence, casually.

“I’m heading to America next week to support Logan during his testing,” he said, almost offhandedly. “Thought I’d ask if you wanted to come with me.”

Your movements stilled for a moment as his words sank in. You tried to act nonchalant, but your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan—memories of your last night with him flooding back in an instant. That kiss. The way he’d held you like he didn’t want to let go. The late night facetime calls and watch parties held.

You pulled your jacket out of the wardrobe and closed the door slowly, turning to face Alex. “Why would I want to go?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, maybe a little too casual.

He didn’t even look up from his phone, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Come on, I’m not stupid,” he said, finally glancing up at you, eyebrow raised.

Your stomach flipped, and you quickly dropped your gaze, hoping your face didn’t betray the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolled his eyes, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. “You really think I haven’t noticed? The way you and Logan have been on those little secret calls? The way you light up when his name comes up?” He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he was making you. “I’m your brother. It’s kind of my job to notice.”

You bit your lip, feeling caught and not quite sure how to deflect. “We’re just… friends,” you mumbled, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not buying it. “Right. Just friends who happen to pop into each other’s apartments all the time. And who bake each other baked goods. And who look at each other like…” He trailed off, smirking again, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Okay, okay, stop,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break through. When you peeked up at him, he was still watching you with that knowing look.

“So?” he asked, clearly waiting for you to admit what he already knew.

You sighed, dropping your hands. “Fine. Yes. I’ll go with you.”

Alex grinned, triumphant. “I knew it.”

You grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at him, but he just laughed, catching it effortlessly. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warned, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It'd been at least a week since Logan left for America, and even though you’d kept yourself busy, you’d missed him more than you care to admit. The idea of seeing him again, of surprising him there, made your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I won’t,” Alex said, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he wasn’t not entirely telling the truth. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I’m sure Logan will be glad to see you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but inside you were already imagining what it would be like to see Logan again. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, heading toward the door. “Let me know when we’re leaving.”

As you turned the handle, Alex called out after you, voice teasing. “Don’t forget to pack something cute!”

You threw him a glare over your shoulder, but the door was already swinging shut behind you, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you headed back to your place, thoughts of Logan filling your mind.

By Friday you were in the hot American Sun. The hum of engines and the low chatter of mechanics surrounded you as you step onto the pit lane at the American track, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over everything. The sound and energy of the place were both exciting and overwhelming, but all you could think about was finding him.

Alex walked a few steps ahead, already scanning the area for new faces, but your eyes darted around, searching for Logan. The journey here had been long, full of anticipation, and now that you were so close, your heartbeat a little faster, eager for the moment you’d been waiting for.

And then, you spotted him.

Logan was standing near one of the garages, his back to you at first, talking to a few team members. He was wearing his racing suit, the top half unzipped and hanging around his waist, revealing a fitted t-shirt beneath. You froze for a second, just taking him in, that familiar rush of emotions surging through you.

He must have felt your gaze because suddenly he turned around, his eyes sweeping across the pit lane—until they landed on you. His face lit up instantly, and before you could even think, your feet were moving.

You broke into a run, dodging past a few crew members and weaving between equipment, Alex forgotten behind you. Logan’s grin widened as he stepped forward, bracing himself as you closed the distance. When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck, and in one swift, effortless motion, he caught you, lifting you off the ground.

You laughed, the sound light and free, as he spun you around, the world momentarily disappearing in the rush of joy and adrenaline. His hands were firm on your waist, holding you close, and when he finally set you back on your feet, neither of you could stop smiling.

Before you could say a word, he pulled you in, his lips found yours in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. It was a kiss that made the long days apart disappear, one that said everything you’d both been holding onto since he left. The noise of the track faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment.

But then, from somewhere behind you, you heard a not-so-subtle clearing of the throat.

You pulled back from Logan, cheeks flushed, and glanced over your shoulder to see Alex standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a way that was both amused and exasperated. Logan looked over too, blinking like he’d just come back to reality.

“Sorry,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his usual confidence slipping for just a second.

Alex shook his head but walked forward with a grin. “Nah, man, you’re good,” he said, clapping Logan on the shoulder in a way that was more approving than anything else. “Just… maybe keep the PDA down when I’m around, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning too, feeling the warmth of Logan’s arm still around you. “I’ll try to keep him under control,” you said, shooting your brother a teasing look.

“Good luck with that,” your brother muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two for a bit. Want to see what this Indy Racing is all about.” He waved lazily and headed off toward the paddock, giving you and Logan some space.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Logan turned back to you, his grin returning, though there was a slight blush colouring his cheeks. “So… surprise?”

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’d say you’re surprised.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, pulling you closer, his voice softer now that the moment had quieted down. “It’s been… weird without you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest for a moment, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear comforting. “And besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun over here without me.”

He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I’m about to test, but maybe you could go sit in the tent over there with the other girlfriends?”

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “The other girlfriends?”

Logan smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t play coy, you were mine the minute you kissed me back in my apartment.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Damn maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you back then.”

He smirked, that familiar glint in his eye. “Don’t be stupid now. Come on cookie, let’s go over to the tent, I want to introduce my cool and sexy girlfriend.”

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, ynalbon, lilymhe and 985,342 others

got the best fan ever

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh my god

usertwo: i just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart parking lot

userthree: at least our logan is happy

alex_albon: yuck

logansargeant: hater

userfour: that's alex's sister omg

userfive: what in the fanfiction

usersix: is that alex's sister? how did that happen?

logansargeant: she texted me after the news and then dropped off some "feel better soon" cookies and it's pretty much been history since then, i'm a lucky guy😊😊

usersix: oh my god i'm sick

ynalbon: this was not on my 2024 bingocard btw

logansargeant: its' been on mine since 2022

userseven: OH MY GOD THEY'RE SO CUTE

ynalbon

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe and 334,236 others

no longer just a formula one sister, im now an indy wag 🤭

*tap to load more comments*

userone: WE LOST HER SOLDIERS

usertwo: if i see one more picture of them baking, i'm kissing my gun

userthree: most unexpected couple of 2024

alex_albon: who tf is going to look after my cats?

ynalbon: bring them to america

alex_albon: how about no?

ynalbon: hater much?

userfour: this is too cute

userfive: thank you for looking after logan for us

lilymhe: ignore the haters babe, you two are very cute (@/alex_albon)

ynalbon: yes ma'am

alex_albon: ARE YOU CALLING MY EX TEAMMATE CUTE?!

usersix: i was mourning the loss of aa23 and ls2 but yn has solved all my issues

logansargeant: 🍪🤍

the end.

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lilyprettyremy · 3 months ago

Text

How to Own Your Morning, It Girl Style 💋☕️

Alright, babes, let’s get real. Mornings are your time to set the tone, and if you want to crush it like the *it girl* you are, you need a routine that’s as fierce as you. Here’s how to wake up, show up, and slay:

1. Wake Up, But Make It Chic 🕶: No more obnoxious alarms. Wake up to your favorite throwback jam—something with serious vibes. We’re talking J.Lo or Britney, because you deserve to start the day like a total boss.

2. Hydration = Power 💦: Grab a glass of cold water the second you’re up. Hydrate like the queen you are. Bonus points if you add lemon. Keep it fresh, keep it fierce.

4. Coffee & Attitude ☕️: Coffee isn’t just a drink; it’s a lifestyle. Brew it strong, make it bold, and sip it slow while you mentally plan your domination of the day. Remember, a red lip *and* a coffee cup = iconic.

5. Look Like the Moment 🖤💄: Lay out your look the night before, so you can step into the day like you own it. Think black boots, leather jacket, and those jeans that hug you in all the right places. You’re not just dressing—you’re making a statement.

6. Mood Setting 🎧: Plug in your earbuds and blast that playlist that makes you feel invincible. Whether it’s rock, pop, or something in between, it’s gotta have that ‘I’m unstoppable’ energy.

7. Makeup & Magic 💋: A flick of liner, a pop of red lipstick, and you’re ready to take on the world. Keep it simple, but make it striking. Remember, less is more, but always *look* like more.

8. Mindset of a Queen 💭: Take five to focus. Whether it’s journaling, affirmations, or just a moment in the mirror to remind yourself you’re *that girl*, start with some serious self-love.

9. Scent of a Legend 🌹: Finish with a spritz of your signature scent—something that leaves an impression long after you’ve walked away.

Own your mornings, babes. Because every day is a chance to be legendary. 💋✨

#girlblogging #beauttiful girls #tumblr girls #just girly things #just girly thoughts #morning coffee #morning routine #it girl #blair waldorf #gossip girl #2000s aesthetic #girl boss aesthetic #lifestyle #school #university #academia #self love #self improvement

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minus-plus-zer0 · 1 month ago

Text

Sunshine Vs Grumpy

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

When you first met Bakugou, he always wore a grumpy expression.

You didn’t understand how someone could look so darn upset all the time. You felt a burning desire to fix that, for the sake of his pretty face.

“Bakugouuuu!”

You called out to Bakugou in a quiet hallway, and Bakugou nearly jumped out of his skin due to your voice. Your voice alone always seemed to startle him, for whatever reason. But he still retained his grumpy expression as he turned to you.

“What?!" Bakugou snapped. "What the hell was that for?”

You pouted. “Oh you’re doing it again!”

“Doing WHAT?”

“That! That right there! You’re frowning all the time! You’re such a grumpy pants you know that?”

“HAH?! Where the hell do you get off telling me that to my face?”

“Well I just thought you would feel so much better if you weren’t so unhappy all the time, so I wanted to point it out and cheer you up! Here, let me try.”

“WHAT ARE YOU–”

You patted his arm like a salesman would pat a fine car. Bakugou wrinkled his nose and scrutinized your gesture.

“You don’t gotta fucking pat me to calm me down dammit! I’m not weak to your damn petting! I’m not–”

You stroked his arm. “There, there… There, there…”

“I can calm down just fine on my own,” Bakugou said, his voice slowly getting less heated. “There’s nothing wrong with my anger. Or my frowns.

You hugged his arm lightly, swinging it a little. “It’s okay! No worries, it’s gonna be alright!”

Bakugou exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. Bakugou lost most of the anger in him. His expression looked much more relaxed as he gazed at you.

“See?” you said, pointing at his face. “Isn’t this better?”

“You gonna steal my arm every time I frown?” Bakugou asked, with a leveled voice.

“Every time! As much as it takes!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “I got places to go. C’mon.”

Bakugou practically dragged you around school for the rest of the day because you wouldn't let go. He never told you to let go either. Bakugou would stand and wait for you to cling back on if you ever accidentally fell off. And true to your word, you continued to cling to him long after in the following days and weeks. The boy would not stop getting into fights and you had to be there to calm him down.

Eventually, Bakugou did calm down quite a bit, and you stopped accompanying him everywhere. Then, Bakugou started knocking on your dorm door to figure out where the hell you went.

"Why'd you leave?" Bakugou asked.

"I thought you were doing well on your own," you said. "So I assumed you wouldn't need me anymore..."

"Wouldn't need you...?"

Bakugou spelled out the words like they were foreign to him. Even now, he still didn't look angry. Just confused.

"Ya can't just dump me all of a sudden..." Bakugou said. "That's too damn much... Ya know, I've gotta hit the convenience store soon and there's an asshole cashier that gets on my nerves. You coming or what? Snacks are on me."

"Hm... snacks? Maybe... I don't know..."

Bakugou sighed. "...Can you please come with me?"

This was not the first time you saw a more vulnerable side of Bakugou, but it was one of your favorites. The boy looked genuinely concerned.

"Sure, okay!" you said. "Since you asked soooo nicely."

Bakugou's expression lit up just like yours did and his good mood only continued throughout the night. After spending enough time with you, you eventually considered Bakugou to be well rehabilitated from his chronic grumpy face disease.

(Clingy goofy dorky needy loser Bakugou strikes again!)

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sideysvault · 3 months ago

Text

ೀ｡˚ Patching Deadpool up years after he left you ೀ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader

Part two here

Wordcount: 2,9k

Tags: Canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending.

────────

The rusty silver plate read in an almost playful manner "The sisters Margaret home for wayward children". It was a colorful name, and it belonged to a not so colorful bar. That was the place where the two of you had met.

Back then, you were nothing more than a student. Constantly struggling to manage the very limited funding given to you. All you wanted was to finish your thesis, get your masters degree, and make it to the end of the month. Your paychecks had cornered you into the only half decent apartment you could rent: The one built in the shittiest neighborhood in town, in a building held up solely by divine grace and poor construction.

That particular night was the end of an extremely rough week. Work piled up, homesickness struck you every time you had a chance to relax and think, and you were the living proof that nobody could make any meaningful connections if you only strictly went to work and home with no rest in between.

And for Christ Sake, you hated to admit it, but you really missed home and the crippling suspicion that you were close to breaking down was settling in.

The only logical next step you could take popped into your head just as you were walking into your neighborhood. You needed to blow off some steam. Have a drink. Or two. Or three. So, your steps seemingly redirected themselves towards that ugly bar that was close to your uglier apartment. Sure, it seemed super sketchy. But right this second, all you needed was to get a drink.

Wade was in that bar too. As he usually was. He immediately took notice of the woman who seemed clearly out of place. You looked like some kind of stuck up librarian. And it was obvious that your mood was extraordinarily dispirited. Sitting there staring at the wall with a piercing stare. Paying no mind to the environment you were in. Furrowed eyebrows adorned your face seemed concerned. Before Wade even realized what he was doing, he found himself striking a conversation with you.

He tried to reason with himself. There were no ulterior motives, no meaning behind his accretion. Wade has always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. And you were hot as fuck. Nothing else.

"What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?"

Strangely, that's all it took to make you laugh. The absurdity of the corny comment immediately got to you and a loud burst of laughter came out of your mouth. Wade's face softened with a certain sense of pride when he saw he could make you laugh.

The stuck up girl with a stick up on her ass had just let out not a forced and polite giggle, but an all teeth and gums type of laugh.

The poorly dim light in the bar did not stop him from trying to take all your features in. And a sense of warmth began to surface under his skin. He was the one who made your night better.

Ever since the event, you would visit that horrid place regularly. Only to see the charming guy who would make you laugh. Your little hangouts quickly evolved into something more. A friendship of sorts. He would walk you home when you stayed late working. "To protect you from all the homicidal freaks". Wade would take you on private tours around the city, so its streets wouldn't feel so foreign to you. He could notice that you genuinely had a great time whenever he was around. And that was all he needed to keep showing up.

One late night, laughter turned into teasing, which transformed to kissing, which later turned into a hookup that evolved into having sex on a regular basis and going out routinely. Wade and you couldn't be more different, it was true. But it seemed to be the key to your relationship. You guys clicked together, balancing each other out.

The insidious realization came to you on a random afternoon. You were in love with Wade Wilson. And he probably felt the same for you.

As cruel as life is, something terrible happened. Just as things were getting serious between the two of you, on one cursed night, he just decided to pick up all of his things from your apartment and leave. All Wade left behind was a tiny note stating that he had terminal cancer and that he loved you. With a little doodle of a heart with crossed out eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.

You were out doing research the first time he fainted. A full time professor had the kindness to name you as a co-author in an important research paper that was being published in some big shot magazine. Wade felt extremely proud of you. On some late nights he couldn't believe that a woman like you could be head over heels over a low stakes hit-man.

The decision felt simple at the time. He ran straight to the clinic and never told you about the incident. Wondering why he would bother you with something that was probably nothing. On that day, in a confined room with sterile air, with its gray walls and the constant sound of the old air conditioner, that’s where the doctor hit him with the whole terminal cancer ordeal. Wade knew you would automatically make a billion plans and extensive research. He knew you'd stay with him all the way through the end. Even if it affected your career, even if it would wreck you emotionally, even if your routine together was reduced to a mere nurse-client relationship, you would stay with him all the way. That was the reason he had fallen in love with you after all.

So, he made a choice. Albeit, one that was a little less simple. He was leaving before tarnishing your life, your memory of him and your time together with his sickness. He couldn't do that to you. The woman who actually had goals. And a shot for a promising future. If he told you about the situation, Wade was certain that he wouldn't have the heart to say no to you. He would stay. And you'd forever remember him as a lost puppy who you loved but had to put down mercifully.

The other option was to be the asshole who left. But he could live on your memory forever. As the person he once was. So that was that.

━━━━━━━━━

You decided to take a shortcut to your newly renovated home. You were wearing your favorite heels today. And they really weren't walking shoes. Brand new, stiff, and ridiculously blue. The scrappy and dark alleyway was well illuminated, and it would take you directly into the street your building was in. After weighing the options, you decided it was safe enough to make a run for it.

The loud noises that you increasingly heard coming from the dumpster worried you. The dumpster was located just before being able to get out of that creepy lane, and you tried to stop the flux of thoughts about homicidal maniacs that suddenly plagued your mind. But, the thought of injured animals that people abandoned on the street came to you as well. Getting closer, hearing the early sound of the echoe of your shoes against the cement, you tried to swallow your fear. Something in there could really need a vet.

But there was a mutilated man wearing a red suit. You instinctively froze and began to step back, the scene was so gruesome that you were sure you would puke on the body and ruin the DNA evidence. Just as you were typing the emergency number on your phone you heard that voice.

"Bad Deadpool" it mumbled. You heard some nonsensical phrases before you could make out a "Fuck. That was, like, my favorite arm"

Your heart began to pound so strongly you could practically feel it on your ears.

He hadn't noticed you yet, continuing to lose a shit ton of blood and trying to balance himself upward without the missing limbs and several shot wounds.

Not without a second thought, you ran to help him stand up. As soon as he felt your firm touch, he turned around violently, holding a defensive position. But the man in the red suit stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were the one holding him.

This was not the neighborhood you used to live in.

You sighed at the sight and quickly took him back to your apartment. You knew it was him. You were sure of it. The lame jokes had given it away. And that voice had haunted you for a long time. You'd recognize him anywhere. His remaining arm felt the same, the inflections of his tired voice sounded the same, and the shock he’d felt at seeing you was indiscutible belonging to him. You had heard rumors about the red suit. But never wondered who could be behind the mask. Wade was supposed to be dead by now, anyways.

Wade, on the other hand, was focusing on not making a sound. He really really hoped breaking your heart had left you clinically insane. Insane enough to rescue random mutilated men off the street.

As soon as you entered the apartment it became tainted with carnage. A trail of crimson red adorned your freshly painted white snow walls. Little chunks of skin would occasionally fall. Accompanying the already gruesome blood. Your heels had been lost somewhere along the way and with great effort you had managed to throw him into a bed that he wasn't yet familiar with.

Fuck it. As if losing an arm and a leg wasn't enough. This was breathtakingly fucked.

The shock left your body as soon as you saw your not-dead ex boyfriend mutilated on your bed. And shock was the only thing keeping you together.

By that moment he was certain you knew it was him. Your eyes began to tear up at the sight of his wounded body, your cheeks were trembling with fear, or disgust, or a combination of both. Before he could try to get up, a pool of blood came shooting out of his mouth without warning. Some of it must have filtered through the mask because you somehow looked more terrified than before. He felt ditzy. And before Wade could do anything about it, you took out his mask on a whim to try to avoid him choking on his own blood. And that was it. All that pain, all the abandonment, the secrecy. It all meant nothing now. You had seen his face.

You were definitely taken aback. And he felt his heart break a little when you instinctively removed her hand from his face. You swallowed with difficulty, shook your head and got up. There were more pressing matters at hand. You had heard things about the vigilante regenerating. But you weren't taking any chances. Not with Wade. Never again.

It didint matter how fucked up he looked now. He took the opportunity of you leaving the room to put his mask back on as quickly as he could. As he was trying to process everything that had just happened, through the door he could see your crying face moving up and down around the apartment. And there you were. Carrying it all into the bedroom.

It was a massive, fancy emergency kit that you had saved up for back in the day. When he was still beating bad guys for money and living with you. You had kept it all this time. And it was still perfectly stocked.

Wade couldn't lift his gaze to meet yours. But he noticed that you seemed relatively unfazed by his new face now. Or by the fact that you had seen him lacking two limbs and with some extra holes. The tears had stopped, but the mortifying look on your face never left. You always knew what he did for a living, you weren’t stupid. But he had always managed to keep it out of home. Or at least he tried to. Never to this extent. You weren't really used to it.

After all he had faced, he thought he did not need any care anymore. Just his healing, getting high and his unicorn. After all, his body would mend all the damage he had done to it and grow itself back together. But it still hurts. And you still tried to make it better. You begin to patch him up as best as you can, taking your time disinfecting, sewing, and fixing him. He knew you well enough to be absolutely certain that you were trying not to gag at the sight of the wounds. And he appreciated your efforts.

When you finished, you softly traced your fingernails on his bandages. He was too tired to talk. And you were still too shocked. How the fuck is he still alive after those injuries? What had happened to him after all these years?

Without saying a word you got up and went straight to the kitchen. You returned after some time, with his favorite tea, soup, and all the analgesics you could find. Your kindness gave him courage to stop being such a weak pussy and actually try to talk to you. You had seen him. Even if you wouldn't want anything to do anymore, the worst had passed.

"So... Sorry about your walls. Didn't know you had a fancy place now. I would've totally died in another alleyway, I promise. And, sorry, for- uhm, you know. The character shattering abandonment"

He coughed some blood. You just furrowed your eyebrows and as slowly as you could, so he could actually stop you this time if that was what he wanted, you removed his mask again. Your eyes pierced him with earnest intensity.

"You are a fucking asshole. And I fucking hate you. And I'm so glad you are alive"

"I know, I know, baby. And thank you for going all mother Teresa on me. Well, wrong comparison. But, yeah. I'll be okay in no time. It's hard to explain right now. But, I will do right by you and paint your walls bright white when my leg and everything grows back! Pinky promise. I'll also buy you new shoes. It's kinda gross that you are footless. Or, well, it could be h-”

"Oh my lord, Wade. Just shut up and get some rest. Eat when you feel better. And scream if you need something"

And just when you were about to leave the room he softly said "Hey. I'm sorry. I-, I didn't want to bring you onto the whole cancer show. I was going to fix myself and come back. And then everything got fucked. I couldn't let you see me like this. Understand that. I'm a monster now. Inside out. I would have never left if there had been a way of staying without ruining your life"

You just looked at him for a long moment. Tears began to appear in your eyes, threatening to come out again. As soon as he saw your face, he immediately tried to lighten up the mood. "Hey, how long have you been obsessed with me?

Still keeping that old thing?" He said as he gestured at the now empty emergency kit.

He didn't have the heart to explain to you that it was a waste in him.

Saying nothing in response to Wade's dumb joke, you just rolled your eyes. Hearing him talk that way about himself hurt your soul. You couldn't help yourself anymore, so you walked towards the injured man with tears running down your face. You sat down on a chair beside the bed and rested your head on his lap.

He called your name softly “there's no need to cry. I know I belong to a fucking circus but this is getting a little offensive" Wade finally got a chuckle out of you. You smile at him and wipe out your tears. Wade winces slightly when you tenderly leave a kiss on his forehead. He feels ashamed of the tact his ruined skin probably had left on your soft lips. It has truly been so long. You notice how he reacts. So you put your hands around his face and gently kiss each of his cheeks, and then the bridge of his nose. As softly as you can.

"I'll go now before you make some lame Greek kiss joke. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I know you are sorry." With a more serious voice, you added

"Just no more running away in the middle of the night. Okay?"

Wade softens. He really missed you. As much as he liked Al's old ass, his true home was with you. Even after all these years. Even after what he did to you. Even with how he looked. Wade was certain he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in years. He was safe now.

"Never again. I promise. I'll do right by you. Okay? We'll be friends with a ton of disgusting unexplored sexual tension in no time and who knows where that could lead to"

You laughed again. And there it was. His favorite sound in the world. It sounded just like the first time he heard it all those years ago.

"By the way, you do owe me those heels. And white walls. You pinky promised it. Oh, and you also owe me the biggest fucking explanation of the century.”

"Sounds like a start to me"

Notes: OMG my first big one! I’m excited to post this. I hope it makes sense, if it doesn’t, feedback is always welcomed! -Sidey xxo

[Edited on October 2024! This was poorly written and I was fully proud of it 😭 shoutout to @nikkiwho, who I fixed this fit for] btw, I’m working on your request for part two even if it’s been a while! Hope you like it.

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hisui-dreamer · 10 months ago

Text

we are one

Characters: Trey, Ruggie, Rook, Sebek

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions

Word count: 4.5k+

Notes: im sorry this took so long lol, but part 4 is finally here!!

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Shizuka (靜菓) with 静 meaning "quiet, still, calm" and 菓 meaning "confectionery, sweets, pastry"

your daughter had silky green hair the colour of fresh matcha and golden yellow eyes that were reminiscent of fresh honey

you named your daughter after her father's dislike of noise and his culinary abilities that never failed to amaze the whole of Heartslabyul

she's rather a quiet child, not very loud but too quiet either

she gets along with other kids perfectly fine, and she doesn't mind sharing or taking a step back at all, always choosing to go with the flow and not get worked up over small things

honestly she's really a mature kid

also just really good at being a peacekeeper and stopping other kids from getting into big fights

buut she does have a mischievous side and may tease her friends when she's in the mood to

at home, she's pretty obedient and will listen to you, but there are moments when she sneaks around

loves helping you with cooking, and her eyes sparkle when she's baking with you

she loves sweets and desserts, but thanks to your warnings about her dental health, she does stop herself from eating too much sugar

is slightly freaked out about cavities so don't you worry, she'll never need any reminding about brushing her teeth or late night snacks

when it comes to school, she doesn't put in too much effort, but you can tell she'd be excellent if she cared more about her grades

which is clearly shown when fixates on learning magic, always so focused that you'll have to call her twice before she snaps out of her trance

you can't blame her for giving it her all though, after all, you've never seen her more excited than when you told her how amazing a person her father is, calm and soothing like a gentle summer rain

once she puts her heart to it, there's really no stopping her

so on another normal evening, as you were cooking dinner while she was studying on the kitchen counter, you found yourself enveloped by a soft light

when you open your eyes, you find yourself standing outside a charming bakery, the fragrance of roses engulfing your senses

and peering through the bakery windows, was the man you had yearned for all these years

It was just a normal day of running the bakery for Trey. With the sun on the verge of setting, he began preparations for closing, when the soft chime of the bell announced a new customer's arrival. He turned around, catching sight of you. His eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the disbelief in your own.

Before words could be exchanged, Trey rushed past the counter. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you as he pulled you close. The years melted away, and the two of you were transported back to a time when you always had each other.

"Is this real?" he wondered aloud, your hearts pounding in sync.

You nodded into his shoulder, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. He pulled back slightly, brushing away your tears as his gaze softened, a warm smile gracing his lips.

"It's been a long time," he whispered. "I missed you so much."

he's just holding you tight, crying as he thanks the heavens for being so lucky to have you in his life again

trey returned to his hometown after graduation, helping out and eventually inheriting the family bakery

he loved incorporating your favourite foods into the store's selection, adding some new desserts from your world that you taught him, and always reminiscing on those tender moments when it was just the two of you in the kitchen

he always knew you had to go home eventually, but that didn't stop him from wishing you could be his life-long partner, supporting each other through thick and thin

so he's beyond grateful and excited to know you and his daughter(?!) shared the feelings even though you were apart

he's rather surprised about said daughter, but there would be no denying how similar they looked

shizuka is a bit nervous, tugging your skirt as she stares curiously at her supposed father

but Trey very quickly makes her feel at home, his warm smiles and even warmer hugs melting away all her nervousness!

he closes the bakery for a few days to help the two of you settle down a bit

this involves reunions with friends and of course, the clover family, who welcome you and their granddaughter with open arms

the clovers are just really really glad their son finally has someone in his life and that he seems a lot more energised now

Shizuka is very quickly introduced to uncle riddle!! who is very surprised but delighted by the behaving little girl who seems to stick to him a lot

uncle deuce and ace also get along with her wonderfully!! especially when Shizuka wants to play around with riddle for a bit hahaha

don't forget uncle cater who flies instantly to meet his new adorable niece and show her off on magicam!!

the three of you settle into a nice rhythm and you help out trey at the bakery now

Trey is very very affectionate with you always, pecking you on the cheek or nuzzling into your neck any chance he can get

Shizuka loves helping out whenever she can too!! she loves learning from her papa and sometimes will just spend hours watching him work

all in all, a blissful, simple family that Trey had always dreamed of, but never would he have believed he was so blessed to have the two of you come back to him

Trey gazed at the young girl, her silky green hair catching the light in a way that seemed surreal. With a heart full of emotions, he approached her hesitantly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Shizuka, was it?" he spoke softly, the name lingering on his lips like a prayer. "It's so nice to meet you."

Shizuka's gaze flickered from Trey to you, seeking reassurance. With a gentle nod from you, she turned her attention back to him, her eyes studying him intently.

Trey knelt to her level, his heart racing. "I know this might be a lot to take in, but I'm your father."

She took a small step forward, cautious but curious. Trey extended his hand tentatively, offering a warm smile. Without a word, Shizuka reached out, placing her small hand in his.

A soft smile graced her lips, mirroring the warmth reflected in Trey's eyes. With a tentative but genuine embrace, Trey enveloped his daughter in his arms, tears cascading down his cheeks. Shizuka, feeling the sincerity in his embrace, wrapped her arms around him as well, a sense of belonging beginning to bloom within her.

Kenji (賢至) with 賢 meaning "intelligence, wisdom, cleverness" and 至 meaning "to arrive at, to reach, to come to"

your son had the softest hair the colour of wheat, and blue eyes that reminded you of cloudy skies

you named your son after how clever his father was, and his endless determination to reach his goals

he's a really sweet kid, always eager to help around and even others when he notices they're in need

you've heard about the many experiences his father had when he grew up, so you've tried your hardest to make sure Kenji wouldn't have to go through them, knowing it's what your hyena would've wanted

but even then, he's never complained about not having enough, there's a subtle wisdom to him that really mirrors his father

though he differs from him in that he's always willing to share, because he knows not everyone can be so lucky

he may not be too good at haggling prices, but his puppy dog eyes work just as well!

he loves doing chores with you, always smiling and laughing that familiar laugh as he helps you sweep the floor while he tells you about his day

he loves cuddles and kisses!!! his favourite part of the day is climbing into your warm bed to wrap his arms around you, asking you for a goodnight kiss and sometimes even bedtime stories

his ears and tails are a bit of a problem, so you keep his hair a bit long to hide the ears, or just say they're fun accessories

you've told him how his father's determination to support his family and community shined through even in unfortunate circumstances, the resourceful and intelligent man he became and you fell in love with

his blue-grey eyes almost resembled a clear sky when he listened to you, asking you more and more questions about this amazing person

he'll try learning more to be like him, but his kind nature stops him from being too schemey

he's not exactly academic weapon material, but he's pretty quick at absorbing information and putting it into practice

and with lots of determination and practice, he somehow manages to manifest the very thing the two of you wanted, and before your eyes was the man who never failed to make you laugh with him

As Ruggie's eyes adjusted, your figure slowly came into focus, revealing the very person who took his heart with them. "Prefect...?" He whispered, his voice a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

His usually carefree expression shifted to one of disbelief, and then a bittersweet smile spread across his face as the tears welled up in his eyes. Without a second thought, he rushed towards you, sweeping you into a tight embrace.

"You're here... You're really here, right?" Ruggie mumbled, his voice choked with emotion.

You nodded furiously, comfort washing over you at his touch. "Yes, Ruggie, it's real. I'm really here."

His hand reached up to thread his fingers through your hair, cupping the back of your head. "I'm so glad... So, so glad..."

he's holding onto you as tightly as he can, so afraid that you'd disappear into the light if he let you loose for even a bit

after graduation, Ruggie followed leona to become his official attendant, what with him knowing how leona likes to get things done, and his ability to pick up etiquette cues

he's also a great information gatherer, so he's perfectly able to assist leona with his foreign affairs

it's leona's voice that finally breaks the two of you out of your trance, him rushing over to investigate that weird light

the two of you pull back and you almost wouldn't notice it, but leona's smile has softened a bit from the image you had in your memory

Ruggie never expected himself to be a father, and things are going a bit faster than he'd like, but there's no denying he's absolutely grateful to have you and your kid at his side

almost immediately the next day, he takes you back to his hometown so you and Kenji can meet grandma and the neighbourhood

grandma bucchi welcomes the two of you so warmly, she even gets a little teary eyed when she sees Kenji, with him looking so similar to the very hyena she raised

leona and Ruggie delegate a room for you in the side palace, where they also live, so you'll be able to see familiar faces often

Kenji loves following his father around, picking up his mannerisms and wanting to learn more about being more schemey

Ruggie's a bit conflicted his angel of a son wants to learn his ways but even he can't deny those puppy dog eyes

uncle leona and guard jack also love spending time with him! though one of them pretends it's annoying

leona shows him magic tricks and jack will teach him how to fight! he'll be getting great lessons all around

Kenji is very eager to learn more and explore this world, so sometimes you'll have to hold him back a bit just in case he gets hurt

but you suppose with the splendid man his father is, you don't have to worry too much

Ruggie's schedule can be a bit hectic and he pulls a lot of late nights, but he always tries to make time for his family

they're the most precious thing to him in the entire world, did you think he'd let them go that easily?

"Dad!" Kenji exclaimed, darting over to grasp at the fabric of Ruggie's pants. "You're my dad, right?"

Ruggie blinked in disbelief, shifting his gaze towards you. "Is... Is he?" he asked, hope saturating his voice.

You affirmed with a nod, and Ruggie redirected his attention to Kenji. "Yeah... I'm your dad..."

Instantly, Kenji wrapped his arms around Ruggie's legs. "Yay! I've always wanted to meet you, Dad!"

Ruggie couldn't help but marvel in awe at the bundle of joy now clinging to his legs, realizing that this spirited kid was the product of your love.

Ayaka (斐佳) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance"　

Ayato (斐斗) with 斐 meaning "elegance, beauty, grace" and 杜 meaning "forest, grove, woods"

maybe a part of you should have expected it, with how unpredictable your beloved hunter always has been, but you ended up having to raise twins

the two had luscious golden locks that rivalled sunlight and sharp green eyes akin to the forests in the summer

you named the two of them after their father's love for all things beauty and his love for forests and nature

the two are well-behaved children, though they can be surprisingly sneaky and mischievous

Ayaka is more outgoing and is always fascinated by the pretty things in her vicinity

while Ayato is more introverted and quiet, often silently following his younger sister and nodding along to her ramblings

he definitely appreciates beauty, but he's less vocal about it

and whereas Ayaka is more fascinated by gems and cute plushies, Ayato is more interested in nature, finding beauty in the moss, the trees and the insects

the siblings are just really really curious about the world and they love observing the little details, from catching beetles to keep as pets, to planting flowers they found on a hike

they really do reflect your hunter's wide range of appreciation

the twins love sticking to each other and they're rarely arguing

though they do fight a bit over who helped you more with chores or who you love more

they're very helpful and efficient, and though they may complain about not wanting to work because the other twin is lazing, they'll still get the job done

they love watching tv shows and dramas, often acting out scenes in the shows or in fairytales

and oh the way their eyes sparkled when you told the fascinating man their father was, a man who could control his own heartbeat, keep track of time so accurately, and with such incredible eyesight, who devoted himself to spreading joy and beauty

almost immediately they doubled their efforts in studying, wanting desperately to meet the man to learn his ways and see for themselves just how interesting he is

and just like that, the dazzling light gradually subsided, unveiling a world that you thought only existed in your dreams

you remember the villa, it's where he took you on vacation for the first, and supposedly last time

You hesitantly knocked on the weathered wooden door of the villa, the echoes of your anticipation mingling with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As the door creaked open, memories flooded back to the first time you entered this place with the man who had captured your heart.

Rook's usual stoic expression shifted, replaced by a mix of surprise and unspoken emotions. "Mon amour... You're really here," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper that hung in the air. Without uttering a single word, he enfolded you in an embrace, as though afraid you might slip away like a fleeting dream.

"I missed you so much," you whispered back the tears flowing freely now that you've felt as you savour the warmth of his touch and the comforting scent of his cologne.

He pulled back, soft brushes of his fingers wiping your tears, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to capture the essence of the time that had passed. "I missed you too, so dearly..." he admitted as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, a rare vulnerability in his gaze.

this was the most emotion you'd seen from him, even when you said goodbye he kept a smile on his face

he's holding you so delicately, as if you were going to fade away if he applied just a bit more pressure

he's surprised by the children, but he instantly warms up to the idea!

he's remained a pursuer of beauty even after graduation, sponsoring artists while he makes a living through hunting and his film critique

he was taking a break in the family villa for old times sake, but it's almost as if the universe planned it all along

he's very affectionate with you, even more so than before, which you didn't even know was possible

always a warm hand on your waist, an occasional peck on your cheek, and every once in a while he'll feel the urge to pull you in for a hug

he tries to do everything for you so you don't even have to lift a finger, breakfast in bed, waking the children, even cooking and cleaning

he loves spending time with the twins!! teaching the two of them how to hunt and explore the forest safely

he'll show them pretty plants, and interesting fungi, all while explaining what properties they might have and whether or not they're poisonous

the twins are so fascinated by everything, their excitement and energy are seemingly endless

and who's a father to deny his children? he spoils them rotten

he also loves showing the kids a certain idol he's supported...

as well as films of vil!! occasionally talking over the movie to express how perfect a scene is or how flawless his acting is

and when the twins get to meet the vil schoenheit, they're beyond thrilled

asking questions, throwing compliments, all directed towards vil, but they're quiet the moment he tells them to shush

uncle vil loves talking to his niece and nephew, but only when they're... calm

uncle epel also loves popping by and giving the twins some apples so they'll get proper nutrition!

really, you'll have to step in to prevent your kids from being spoiled rotten

but you'll indulge Rook for a while, he's just blissfully happy with his family after all

"Are these...?" he began, his voice trailing off as he looked at the children with a mix of awe and wonder.

"Ours," you answered, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you delicately wiped away the tears that had welled up in your eyes. "Meet Ayato and Ayaka."

The hunter knelt down to their eye level, his usual face softening into a loving. "Ayato, Ayaka," he said, his voice gentle, "It's so nice to meet you. I'm your father."

The children exchanged glances before Ayaka stepped forward. "Hello father!" she exclaimed, throwing her tiny arms around him.

Ayato, the quieter one, followed suit with a nod, a shy smile on his face.

The hunter embraced them both, a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. "Such angels... Mon amour what a blessing you've granted me...," he sighed as he held them close.

Atsuki (惇貴) with 惇 meaning "sincerity, loyalty" and 貴 meaning "precious, valuable, honourable"　

your son had curly hair with the softest shade of light green, and piercing golden eyes with slits that reminded you of reptiles

you named your son after the chivalrous values his father had devoted his life to

he's a rather loud and excitable child, always forgetting to control his volume when he gets too emotional

doesn't really get along with other kids, but it doesn't affect him much, he's just happy to have his mama with him

if he's done something wrong, you don't even need to yell at him really, most of the time he's already holding back tears at the thought of disappointing you

very into sports and is also really good at several sports, he's earned a couple of medals and trophies already

he's not the best at magic, and you're also not too sure how his dark fae blood affects that, but he's still pretty good at making progress

he really is just a good kid who tries hard at everything and tries to make the right decisions, but he's quick to get disappointed when things don't go his way, and suddenly you're faced with a very familiar and endearing puppy dog face

so a lot of times, you'll just have to pull him in a hug, and remind him things almost never go the way we plan, and it's okay to accept defeat and learn from it

but there's nothing he's more motivated about than learning more about his dad, who in his mind, is an honourable, talented knight straight from the fairytales who devotes his life to protecting the people important to him

so much so, that you'll find him swinging around the toy sword you got him for training

he'll also start putting even more effort into learning magic, wanting to connect to his amazing papa in a way

and then on one night, you're not sure what triggered it, but he's incredibly emotional and crying about how he can't help you and you're always taking care of him and he just wants to have his dad in his life and it's all so unfair why his mama is alone and-

he starts emitting bright light, so bright you can't keep your eyes open, but you reach to hold him in your arms

when you no longer feel the bright light, you tentatively open your eyes, only to find yourself standing in the dark, spacious throne room of Briar Valley

and standing there, right next to the throne, was your knight in shining armour

Standing next to the grand throne, was your knight in shining armour, Sebek. He, along with Silver, stood in positions of defence, but the moment his eyes met yours, the mask of composure crumbled, and he rushed toward you with an urgency that mirrored the longing that had lingered in his heart during your separation.

He enveloped you in a fierce embrace, his arms securing you but also gentle to not hurt you with his armour.

"I thought... I thought I lost you," Sebek's voice was a shaky whisper against your ear, his grip on you tightening as if trying to confirm that you were indeed real.

"I'm here, Sebek. I found my way back," you reassured him, feeling the softness of his hair against your cheek.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he admitted, his words a whispered admission of the fears he had harboured, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

he's a mess the instant he sees you, and he melts completely when you're finally in his arms

malleus and silver are also immensely happy that you're back, calling lilia to join the family reunion

Sebek's pretty overwhelmed with your presence on its own, so silver and lilia have given him a gentle push to actually function and introduce himself to Atsuki

he's grown to be less awkward with his affection, and particularly with how long you've been away, he doesn't hold back too much

his hands are always inching closer to touch you, his forehead resting on your shoulder every once in a while, it's all really endearing

but his parenting style is a bit awkward

Atsuki really admires him, but that also makes him ever so slightly afraid of him

meanwhile, Sebek is nervous because he doesn't want to do anything that ruins the image of a perfect knight for his son

so they're a bit awkward, but with you as the middle person they can get along pretty well!

they bond over training, with Sebek teaching him sword fighting (with you reminding him not to push him too hard)

Atsuki also really enjoys sparing with uncle silver, who always lets him him, but Atsuki just wants him to fight for real, so it's just silver being "this is real??"

uncle malleus taking him out for gargoyle studies (Sebek is jealous lmao)

and of course, uncle lilia who cooks extremely nutritious meals that always end with Atsuki puppy dog eying you to save him

sebek's family is also very very happy to have you two!!

grandpa baul grumbles around a lot, but he keeps note of Atsuki's favourite foods to prepare them when he visits

also comments on his sword fighting and stance when he feels like it

mom and dad also adore you guys!! mrs. zigvolt loves giving you gifts and talking about sebek when he was younger haha

all in all, sebek's so incredibly grateful you could come back to him, and though he's still awkward with his affection sometimes, he'll never stop trying his best to love the both of you

Atsuki's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his father, the mythical figure he had only heard tales of until now.

Sebek's gaze shifted from you to Atsuki, and his breath caught. His eyes softened as he knelt down to be at eye level with the child who was undeniably his son. "Hello," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of joy and uncertainty. "I... I'm your father."

Atsuki's eyes flickered with a mixture of awe and excitement. "Papa?" he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sebek nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to gently cup Atsuki's face. "Yes, little one. I'm your papa."

The room seemed to hold its breath as father and son locked eyes for the first time. Atsuki, still processing the enormity of the moment, broke into a wide, joyful smile. "Papa!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Sebek's arms.

Sebek, overwhelmed with emotion, held Atsuki close, a mix of laughter and tears escaping him. "I've missed so much, haven't I?" he murmured, his heart swelling with love for the son he never imagined to exist.

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 3 ✧Masterlist

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#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover #trey clover x reader #twisted wonderland trey #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #twisted wonderland ruggie #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #twisted wonderland rook #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twisted wonderland sebek

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written-in-flowers · 6 months ago

Text

His Pet: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubs!Hongjoong x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairing: demon!wooyoung x Fem!reader, demon!Mingi x fem!reader

Word Count: 13k

Genre: hella smut, some angst MINORS DNI

Summary: at the end of her first day, YN spends her night with Master Hongjoong. It's only then she realizes just how different he is from his demon brothers.

Tags: master slave/realationship, bondage, BDSM, mentions of tabbo kinks (watersports/beastiality but it isn't graphic), restraints, sex machines, sex toys, anal sex, anal toys, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, edging, exhibitionism, dracyphilia, nipple play, nipple clamps, vaginal fingering, handjobs, quickies, dirty talk, pussy slapping, spanking with paddles and whips, whipped, humiliation, degradation, throat fucking, rough oral sex, double penetration, gagging, choking, cockslapping,

Previously on Pretty Pet > Next

***

The grogginess of sleep made you unaware of his presence. You rolled onto your other side, relishing in the cooler half of the bed without noticing him. Your mind clung to the dreamworld, reaching out for a mother you'd lost. Standing in your old bedroom, you saw the old toys and games. The movie and band posters you’d hung still remained on the walls. But, you only saw Her. She stood in the doorway with her warm smile and a glass of milk in her hand.

‘Having trouble sleeping, angel?’

You crumbled onto the shaggy carpet. Every single regret poured out in tears. You begged her for forgiveness; for leaving her alone, for abandoning her, and cutting her out of your life. You knew how much she loved you, and you resented her anyway. You reached out for her, moving to touch her before long black claws pulled you away. The pain they left in your skin felt so real. The last few wisps of fruity perfume and trickles of warmth brushed off you as they drew you into the darkness.

“Mama…” you groaned, slipping between your new bedroom and your childhood room. She was right there in the doorway, her hair and skin so much similar to yours. Maybe that was why he hit her. She reminded him of you, his biggest mistake.

“Ma…”

“Is that another kink of yours?”

Instantly pulled from your dreams, you bolted upright to see Hongjoong standing by your bed. Arms crossed, he greeted you with an amused smile. After your bath in Seonghwa’s apartment, you came back to your room for a nap. You hadn’t seen the point in putting on clothes, so you’d fallen asleep naked. Yet, to Hongjoong, you might as well be wearing a sweater and pants for all the notice he took. Sitting up, you forced yourself out of sleep to fully take him in.

“I personally prefer ‘Daddy’ when the mood strikes me,” he continued, “But Mama can be fun. Would you like me to wear a dress for that or-”

“-What do you mean?” You stammered, pushing hair aside.

“You called me ‘Mama’,” he said, “Unless you're having dreams about someone else?”

“No, of course not.”

Hongjoong giggled, “Liar.”

He flopped down on the bed beside you, groaning in relief as he sunk into it. You noticed he wore a regular black t-shirt and jeans, far removed from the sleek, polished look he'd sported before. The distinct smell of sweat and blood came from him, mixed with his sweet pheromone. You guessed he’d come straight from work. It equally disgusted and fascinated you.

“Do you always have dreams about your mother?” He asked, eyes closed.

“Not always. Just sometimes.”

“Was it because of San? He says he's always wanted his own family, you know, outside of Seonghwa and me.” He scoffed, “It's boring and dumb.”

“I guess it was. Do you have those?”

“No. My mother doesn't come around often, only when she wants something from me. She popped me out and then walked away.”

“She did?”

“Yup,” he nodded, hands behind his head. “I saw her two or three times in childhood, but that was a long time ago. I have no idea where she is anymore. She stays up in the human world, corrupting and possessing souls.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Can't miss someone you never knew. I suppose you knew yours?”

“I did, but I wasn't very kind to her when I grew up. I stopped talking to her after I moved out.”

“Is that why you asked her to forgive you?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, sad,” he said, but he didn't sound very sad to you. “You're here, so there isn't anything you can do for her. We're your new family now,” he put his hand on your thigh, gently brushing his thumb back and forth. “You be a good pet and do what we ask,” he yawned, “And we'll take care of you.” He laid in your bed a minute before he said, “And you'll obviously take care of us. Since, you know, you made both your handlers cum in minutes.”

“Master Seonghwa told me to-”

“-To give Yeosang a handjob, I know,” he said, hand sliding up your thigh. “But, did you have to torture poor Jongho? He's the youngest and sweetest of us and you tortured him with your beautiful body.”

“I didn't do anything he didn't want already. I turned around and there he was,” you shrugged. “I would've felt bad sending him away when he was already so hard.”

“So,” Hongjoong began, unbuckling his pants, “If I ever start jerking off in front of you, you'll let me watch?”

“Would I have a choice?”

“Not really, but,” he put his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your sex, “It's not as if you'd say no. I have a feeling you like demon dick quite a lot.” He withdrew himself from his trousers, and you saw him already semi-hard in his hand. “Is it because they're longer or thicker or both?”

“I'm not wholly sure, honestly,” you admitted, holding your breath as he began tracing circles on your pussy. You laid back on the bed beside him, so he had more access to you. “It just feels better.”

“You're not wrong there,” he chuckled, stroking himself in time with his touches on you. “I love it more than anything, personally. I used to fuck humans in the living world, but nothing quite beats demons. But, don't take that to heart,” he said, “I still love human pussy just as much. Particularly yours.”

You rolled onto your side, resting against him for a better feel of his hand. “And why is that?” You took him in your hand, earning a low groan.

“Because you take my dick so well,” he said, sliding two fingers inside you. The both of you kept slow paces on each other, neither of you in a hurry, “Most human slaves have trouble the first time, but this right here fits around me perfectly. It's almost as if this pussy was made for me,” he pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, “Always wet and ready to be fucked. Is that why you slept naked? Were you hoping one of us would come here and take advantage of you?”

“I don't know what you mean,” you said, stroking him languidly. “This is when I'm most comfortable.”

“Good to know,” he said, keeping his fingers inside and rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Because this is how I want you when you're with me.”

“Nude and aching for you?”

He laughed, “The aching is optional. I want you naked all the time. Less layers means less to worry about.” He pulled fingers from you and did slow circles around your clit. “I can get to this right away.”

“Stay still,” he ordered with a harsh slap, lips against yours, “Stay fucking still.”

He captured your lips with his, the both of you moaning together. Hooking his hand around your knee, he pulled you up onto him. The sudden crash of his dick to your cunt added more pressure between your thighs.

Carnivals. Fairs. Candy shops. The faint scent of cotton candy had you rutting against him. Hongjoong carried the sweet aroma that brought you back to childhood. It seeped into your pores and became one with your natural scents. You might as well feel drugged with how it added to your desires. You moaned each time the bulb of his cock pushed into your clit. A hand in your hair, and another on your thigh, Hongjoong kept you still as he grinded against you. Each time you tried moving, he laid a hard smack to your ass.

“Yes, Master,” you whined, feeling his cock nearly press into your entrance.

He continued kissing you deeply. Your fingers clenched around the pillow underneath him, you took every bit of strength to not hump him like a dog. Hongjoong, while smaller and skinnier than his brothers, carried the same strength as them. He kept you firmly pressed to him without a problem, and his smacks burned your skin each time. You whined and moaned into his mouth whenever his length slid over you. His mere grinding couldn’t scratch the itch inside you. Your walls clenched for him, trying to grab the head that constantly brushed close to it. Your hand slid up his neck to his cherry red hair, and you tugged in a way that made him growl. Hongjoong returned this by keeping you dangling over that frustrating barrier of denial and relief. You could feel the thin ridges brushing your clit, making you gyrate into him involuntarily.

“I said ‘stay still’,” he said between kisses, switching cheeks and slapping the left side. “Impatient whore,” he groaned, “Can’t even wait for cock.”

“I want it so badly, Master,” you whined in a kiss. “Please, let me have it. Please, please. I promise I’ll be good for you all night. Please.”

“You’re not being very good right now,” he noted, “With you grinding against me when I told you not to.” He made a few hard slaps on either cheeks, causing you to cry out in pain. “How do I know you’ll be good for me tonight?”

“I promise I will,” you said, forcing yourself to be still as he started grinding faster, “I promise, I promise.”

He laughed at your whimpering, “I don't think so. You're going to have to prove it. Lay down for me.”

You moved to lay on your back, lips crashing with his right away, when the door opened. Jongho appeared by the corner of the bed, doing his best not to notice your body or your position.

“Master Hongjoong,” he said stiffly, “Dinner will be served soon. Wooyoung is here to dress YN for dinner.”

A bit of aggravation reached the pit of your stomach. You saw annoyance flicker in Hongjoong’s eyes before he turned to look down at you.

“I suppose we will have to finish this later, Pet,” he said with a defeated sigh.

“But, Master,” you pouted, “Can you relieve me at least a little bit?”

“I'm afraid not now,” he kissed you one final time. It was passionate and slow, tongues sliding and bodies molding together for a few brief seconds. “But, if Wooyoung or Jongho wish to help you get there, I won’t be opposed to it. A little finger or tongue action is just what my pet needs,” he pushed hair from your face and kissed you again. “You can tell me all about it when we’re alone tonight,” he whispered.

You kept him close to you by his forearms, “But I only want you tonight, Master.”

He grinned, “You’ll have me, but I think I have an idea of how slutty our pet can get. I told Seonghwa it’s ridiculous to make you deny your own desires. You’re a pleasure slave. Seeking out pleasure is what you do best.” He pushed into you a few times, smiling in your next kiss. “So, do what comes naturally to you, slut, and enjoy whoever you like. My only rule is,” he squeezed both your breasts, “Nobody goes inside your cunt but me. Your holes belong to me, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Tell me, why can't the others be in your pussy?”

“Because my holes belong to my master,” you said, knowing what he wanted to hear.

He beamed, “You listen well. Good.”

Hongjoong gave you another kiss while he put himself together again. Even when he finished zipping up, he kept kissing you. You suspected if Jongho did not insist, he would have given into his desires for you sooner.

“It’ll be equally hard for me too,” he confessed, briefly kissing you, “But Seonghwa will bitch if we’re not at dinner.”

He finally lifted himself off the bed, fixing his shirt and taking deep breaths. Jongho bowed his head as Hongjoong exited the room. The two of you alone, Jongho addressed you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “But dinner is an important thing around here. Master Seonghwa and Master San insist you be there and look your best.”

“I figured,” you grunted, your arousal radiating between your thighs. You swore you could almost feel him still there; his thickness spreading you apart in each thrust before sticking it inside you. “But, did you have to come in right now?”

“I was ordered to,” he said, “You know how it is. Besides, it isn’t like he won’t do it later anyways. Come on. Bath time, little pet.”

You slid off the bed, shaking Hongjoong from your system as you waited on Jongho to prepare your bath. Someone walked in right as you stepped into the water.

“There she is,” Wooyoung beamed, two of his purple-clad assistants entering the bathroom, “I heard through the grapevine you had quite a time with San and Seonghwa. You must be something special for them to be so weak for you.” He looked in a mirror, nearly seducing himself as he fixed his hair around his upturned horns. “I’ve never seen them so excited by a human before.”

“She is special,” Jongho smiled knowingly. He’ll never forget your moment in the bathroom, which pleased you.

“I hope I should be so lucky one day,” Wooyoung winked at you. “I’ve never had a human before.”

“Wooyoung, do not say such things,” Jongho said. “The Masters might hear you.”

“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes, “As if they haven’t thought about it. Everyone knows what a horndog Hongjoong is, and his brothers aren’t saints either. Sungmi, Kyla,” he called to the two assistants setting up a nail station in the bathroom, “Black stilleto shape with black rhinestones for tonight.” He looked down at you, putting you into a frame with his hands, “Yes, I have the perfect vision. You are going to be drop dead gorgeous when I’m done with you. The Masters won’t be able to control themselves.”

“Hopefully they’ll manage to keep it in through dinner,” Jongho said, running a thin, mint-scented oil in your hair. “Cook worked so hard on Master Seonghwa’s menu. It’d be a shame to see it wasted.”

Wooyoung came around the tub, and took over your hair from Jongho. Smooth fingers ran from the nape of your neck to the very ends, spreading the oil as much as your hair let him. Something sensual laid in these delicate touches. Wooyoung’s fingers continued briefly touching your neck, and you felt him staring down into the murky waters. You couldn’t help sensing that Wooyoung did not normally aid in the bathing portion of the process. When the both of them finally finished, your suspicions were proven true.

“Wow,” he breathed, gazing down at your wet body, “Yeosang has every right to hope you're put in the greenhouse. Dennis can always use a few helping hands.”

“Wooyoung!” Jongho snapped, “She’s not for you.”

“Who's Dennis?”

“I know that,” he retorted, ignoring your question. “I’m only saying she looks good. I wouldn’t bother dressing her at all if I had her walking around my house.”

“Ugh, you’re so obscene,” Jongho rolled his eyes.

He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, drying you off quickly before sliding you to the nail station where one of the assistants sat. You rested back on the chair as the two assistants began cleaning, shaping, and painting your nails as instructed. The beaded patterns glittered whenever you wiggled your fingers. You never painted your nails black because of the rumors that it damages your nails. Yet, you admitted this had a nice effect.

When they finished your nails, Jongho led you into the dressing room where Wooyoung stood. You saw more assistants plucking things off shelves and racks to present to their employer. Wooyoung stood by the vanity table, arranging makeup for you. He came over, lifting up your nails to examine them.

Jongho groaned, “It’s probably about her bedtime routine. He’s so damn picky. I swear I wanna…Ugh!”

“Well done,” he told the nail artists, “You may go.” They bowed and left the room. “Jongho,” he called to him, “Yeosang was in here a few minutes ago asking for you. He seemed a bit more heated than usual.”

He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Wooyoung waited for his assistants to finish putting an outfit together, then he dismissed them as well. Your body clenched when you heard him close the dressing room doors. The sounds in the room became stifled by the surrounding shelves and items absorbing them. He walked over to the vanity where he started working on your hair. You caught him giving you glances as he fixed your hair into his preferred style. He came around, picking up a bottle of foundation. You didn’t know how he got your exact shade, but you assumed ‘magic’.

“You sure you’re not part demon?” he asked, applying foundation to your face with a brush.

“I am.”

“You look like it,” he said. He added concealer next, dabbing it where needed. “You’re way too pretty to be a normal human. If you’re not a cambion, a half-demon, then somebody took a little more time with you for sure.” He lightly dusted a finishing powder on the base, then grabbed blush. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he put down the blush, and put his hands on your shoulders, “I’m quite fond of beautiful things.”

Light fingers pulled at the opening of your robe. You had the urge to close it back up, but something about his touch stopped you. Like so many other human-presenting demons you’d met, a pheromone released from him in scents you liked. Wooyoung’s was the expensive Chanel perfume you once wore. You found it drastically unfair. He let your robe fall off your shoulders, and sighed at the sight of you. Goosebumps covered your arms as he dragged his fingers down your neck to your shoulders.

“It must benefit you in so many ways,” he said in a mesmerized voice. He picked up a tube of lipstick, and applied it smoothly. “The power that beauty and sex appeal wield is astounding. Nobody likes to admit that pretty privilege is real, even in the underworld. The slaves with the prettiest faces and the nicest holes get better treatment over the plain faces. The succubi with the most delicious bodies make ten times more than any regular demon or human ever could,” He finished his work and observed you in the mirror. “Those who have a special preference for humans only pay top-price for the pretty ones…The ones,” his fingers traced your collarbone as he bent down to your ear, “Who can’t get enough of it earn the most and are the most expensive.” Finally, he reached your breasts, which he gently cupped. Your body instantly warmed at his touch.

“I learned a little bit about you from the slavers in the city. I casually mentioned that three of Prince Asmodeus’s sons recently acquired a human pleasure slave by your name. Some of them knew you from auctions where they’d been outbid, and other claimed they’d fucked each of your lovely holes…” he grazed your nipples, watching them harden against his fingers, “They say you’re perfectly broken. You don’t resist or refuse demon cock anymore, they said. Is that true?” he rolled your nipples in his fingers until you whimpered, “Do you prefer big demon dick over pathetic human ones now?”

“I do enjoy them,” you admitted, your sex starting to throb.

“Gods…” he breathed against your neck, “I’d kill to fuck you right now. The most I’m allowed is the other holes and your pretty hands.” He smiled when you moaned, watching his hands grope your chest in the mirror. “Turn around for me. I want to look at you again before I have to dress you.”

On shaky legs, you faced him. Your standing position caused your robe to fall to your wrists on the table. Wooyoung drank in the sight of your body, licking his lips as he started playing with your breasts again. This new feeling reignited the stirring in your loins. Wooyoung’s hot tongue slid over your hardening nipples, the slippery tongue rapidly swirling around each one. When you reached for his groin, feeling him hot and hard in your hand, he moved closer to you.

“You can take it out,” he whispered, “See what you could have with me some time.”

You unbuckled and unzipped him, gasping at the large bulge poking through his underwear. “This is why I love demons so much,” you said, rubbing him with his own boxers, “They’re always so big.”

“I saw how well you can take them,” he said, teasing your nipples. “I’d love to experience it myself one night.”

Wooyoung pulled down his boxers to free himself, and you started stroking him with both hands. He let out a long, drawn out groan as you worked him. He bent down to your breasts, and took one in his mouth. The tip of his tongue flicked over the peaks each time you reached his thick head. You let out a giggle when he started pushing into your stationary hands, grunting against your tits.

“You really wish you could fuck me, huh?” you asked, putting his hand to your heat and smiling when he felt how wet he’d made you. “How often have you thought of wrecking my tight human holes, hm?”

“Ever since I watched you fuck them,” he groaned, holding your tits in his hands and pushing upwards. “You sounded so sweet taking dick until you couldn’t think straight. I wanted to run there and get a turn or two. But, I’ll settle for this right now.”

You gasped when two fingers slipped into you. Like Wooyoung, you began riding his hand and grinding your clit into his palm every so often. The two of you stayed by the table, grunting and moaning as you pleasured one another. He was right, of course. If you had no power on your own, your looks and sexual expertise can get you anything. Why should you not indulge in what makes you happy? As long as nobody stuck their dick in you, your masters did not seem to mind. At least, Hongjoong does not and you’re running on his schedule now.

“Keep going,” Wooyoung breathed, pushing his fingers to your hips while fucking into your hands, “Fuck yes, just like that. Keep fucking my hand like that.”

The two of you came together, hard and trembling in each other’s hands as you did. Spurts of white shot over your lower belly while you drenched his hand. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, while you leaned back onto the table. Finally getting the relief you needed, you did not mind when Wooyoung removed his fingers.

“Good,” he breathed, looking at your makeup, “I didn’t mess anything up. Let’s clean this and get you dressed, yeah?”

Business as usual. To Wooyoung, you might have not even given him a handjob. You cleaned yourself well enough to avoid discomfort later, while he started sliding you into a lace and satin lingerie set. Then, you pulled on a black silk dress that went to your feet. The backless, spaghetti strap number resembled the gowns you used to wear at fancier parties. It shimmered in black sequins, and gave a nice contrasting color to the silver snakes dangling from your earlobes.

Jongho reappeared right as you slid your feet into matching heels. You knew right away he sensed something, but he refrained from saying anything.

“She’s ready,” Wooyoung said, spraying perfume around you. “They’re going to love her.”

Jongho led you out of the dressing room right away, “Mingi, take YN to the dining room. I have to talk to our resident stylist.”

Mingi nodded in understanding, then walked you into the hallway. Still recovering from your quick one with Wooyoung, you forced yourself to gain the energy to be around your masters. You imagined Jongho giving the stylist a harsh scolding for indulging his desires and making you late for dinner. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve wondered what the big deal about being a little bit late was, but you did know better.

As you walked, you noticed Mingi. Long and broad, you expected him to make loud thumps when he walked, but instead he moved quieter than a shadow. You also saw he did not wear the armor or weapons most demonic bodyguards wore in palaces like the Black Keep.

“Where are your weapons?” you asked inquisitively. “Don’t big bad warriors wear loads of them?”

“They do, but I got these.” He flicked his right wrist as a sharp blade poked out of his cuff. “I don’t carry heavy stuff. It slows me down and gets in the way. My job is to protect you inside the keep, so I don’t need anything but these.”

“So, if somebody breaks into my room-”

“-I’ll be prepared for that. I’ve been fighting most of my life, YN. Children of Satan are trained in combat from the time we’re very small.”

“Satan?”

“Prince of Wrath. He’s one of the seven princes of Inferno,” he explained. “You didn’t know that?”

“I’ll admit I don’t know much about this place. I sort of landed here and that was it.”

“Ignorance keeps the human population under control,” he said. “But, I’m sure Master Seonghwa will teach you all about that.”

“With the college schedule he’s giving me, I’m sure I will.” You both walked past the open windows, and you saw how in the darkness between each window, Mingi seemed to disappear. “What the…”

“I’m a shadow demon,” he said, answering the question you didn’t ask. “We blend into darkness pretty well. I got it from my mother.”

“Did you know her or are you like The Masters?”

“She was my mentor in school. She wasn’t very maternal, but she was at least there to teach me valuable skills.”

“Like how to blend into the dark?”

“Yes.” You then heard the smugness as he said, “I guess you can say shadow demons are born in the darkness.”

“And what about the others? Do you know anything about them?”

“Yeosang is my cousin through my father's father's father's uncle,” he said, “And Jongho isn’t royalty at all. His parents were trickster demons, which is how he’s able to sort of appear and disappear like he does. Yunho is the grandson of a son whose mother married a son of a cousin to one of Prince Mammon's children. He's the Prince of Greed, which makes him the perfect person to run a household’s finances,” he chuckled. “Wooyoung’s somebody’s great-great-great-great offspring of one of King Lucifer’s half-breed children, but I don’t believe that. I think he’s just another vain demon looking for a bit of fame and attention. I wasn’t surprised when I heard he screws people in a room of mirrors.”

“Huh, interesting.”

“And, you probably already know, but The Masters are sons of Asmodeus, Prince of Lust. Their mother was a succubi, hence why she’s not interested in being a mother to her sons,” he said, guiding you closer to the dining room.

You pitied the three brothers. Your father might have been a mean bastard, but you had your mother, the nicest woman you’d ever known. If she’d left, you’d face your father’s rage all alone. As you reached the dining room, you recalled your dream. Even with a battered face, your mother took care of you. She was the shield between you and your father. She sacrificed for you, and you called her pathetic and weak, promising to never be like her. You wondered where she was, as you sat in your seat at the table, and if she was okay. Your father was still alive when you died, which left her alone.

God, you’re a cruel bitch.

All three masters sat at the dining table. Clearly, they’d changed from their work clothes into dinner clothes. You’ll say that your masters showed dedication to their aesthetics. Seonghwa wore a ruffled shirt with a red-wine cravat pinned with a dark ruby brooch; San kept his button down shirt and tie neat and crisp, while Hongjoong wore a satin black shirt unbuttoned halfway with black pants. A hearty spread laid out on the table, with wine cups being regularly filled by nearby maids.

Jongho served you himself, placing a piece of salmon with an apple and kale salad; he added a bread roll before pouring you white wine. You noticed your masters feasted on different meals: San had a protein packed plate of steak and eggs, while Seonghwa ate from a light pasta dish. Hongjoong had nothing on his plate, but instead drank red wine.

“-Hongjoong, you must eat,” said Seonghwa, twirling pasta on his fork.

“I am,” said Hongjoong. “I’m eating grapes.”

“I mean food, Hongjoong. You’ll need energy for tonight. At least some bread and butter if you won’t-oh, Hongjoong, you are such a child.”

Hongjoong produced a bag of chips from nowhere, and munched on them pointedly. “Anyways,” Hongjoong continued, “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me-”

“-Hmpf-”

“-I told him if he wanted to escape Inferno, he should have stayed a regular mayor instead of becoming a dictator,” Hongjoong shrugged. “The man ordered the deaths of millions of people, tortured political prisoners, stole and cheated his allies and is surprised he is in Hell?”

Seonghwa snorted, “They don't think it's real until they're dead and sitting in your chair.” He quietly ate more pasta, then dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

“What did you do to him?” San asked curiously before chewing a piece of steak.

“The same things he used to have done to the people he imprisoned,” Hongjoong replied. “I figure he has a day or two more until he's broken. Then he'll be shipped to wherever he's supposed to go.”

“We had a similar guy in the arena today,” San said. “A murderer who killed dozens of women for years. He said he was sorry and wanted to earn his way out.” San snickered, “Nayeon took him out in seconds. She takes enjoyment in the men, I've noticed.”

“Likely because they're scumbags,” Hongjoong suggested. “Anybody win today?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Not a single one. But, the crowds don't like it when they win, so it works out.”

You chewed quietly on your dinner as they continued discussing work. It was when Hongjoong shifted in his seat casually that you felt his hand on your knee. A piece of salad nearly caught in your throat, but you concealed it with a gulp of wine.

“How was your first day, Darling?” San asked.

“It was…fine.” Hongjoong’s fingers gradually pulled your dress up to your knees, bunching the skirt above them. You sat entirely still, and continued eating. He’d be excited to know this wasn’t your first under-the-table act.

“Just fine? I like to think I made it a little bit better than ‘fine’,” he scoffed. “Especially with how I fucked you into the table.”

“It has to be because of you,” said Seonghwa. “I know when I had her, she loved every second of it. Yeosang even helped.”

“Did he?”

“He cleaned her up for me, since I had to go back to work,” he said. “She worked him afterwards, and from what Jongho told me,” he smirked over a fork of pasta, “It was interesting, to say the least.”

“How so?” Hongjoong asked, hand brushing your inner thigh.

“He said the two of them berated each other the entire time,” he replied.

“Ah, hate sex,” Hongjoong nodded in understanding. He glanced over at you, “Sounds like our pet has a range of different interests. I can’t wait to try them all,” he slid his hand back down your thigh, creating a warmth in your panties. “I bet it’s like one of those swirl lollipops. Every lick and bite has a different flavor to it,” he licked his lips and drank from his wine cup.

Seonghwa finished a bite of pasta when he noticed the position. He caught your eyes, raised his eyebrows, and then smirked.

“Can’t you at least get through dinner, Hongjoong?” Seonghwa asked him.

“I have no idea what you mean, Brother,” he said as he delicately pressed your panties into your sex.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” San snapped his fingers, drawing Seonghwa’s attention from you. “Your collar. It came earlier today.”

“Ooh, yes!” Hongjoong said, giving you a quick rub before pulling away completely. “I saw Yeosang bringing it in.”

“My collar?” you recalled Jongho mentioning it to you, but you hadn't expected it so soon.

San clicked his fingers, and Yeosang appeared in the corner in a puff of smoke. He held a black box between his hands, which he walked around and placed in front of you. You stared at the box in surprise. You gazed up to the three demons sitting in front of you.

“Go on,” San beckoned, “Open it.”

You flipped open the clasp to find it sitting on velvet layers. Black lace with a rose pattern, three singular onyx gems hung from black chains. It was far more expensive than any collar you previously wore. When you examined it further, you saw a large onyx in the middle. On it, you saw they'd engraved a sigil of a snake wrapped around a thorny rose.

“In case you get lost,” Seonghwa explained when you lifted the choker by the middle gem. “Everyone will know where to bring you.”

In case you got lost…

Or if you ran away?

“Here, let me.”

Hongjoong stood up, took the choker from you, and clasped it comfortably on you. It was then that you saw it. Hanging from his belt was a black whip. A cat-o-nine tails whip reached from his waist to his knee. That whip likely welted and spliced lots of skin in its time. You wondered when he’d use it on you. Hongjoong ignored your staring and crouched beside you. He straightened the lace, and gems before admiring you. Rough fingers sent goosebumps down your arms as they traced the lace and tugged it gently.

“Good thing it's elastic,” he said, thumb touching your jaw, “That way it won't break when I tug on it.”

“We will get you more as time goes on,” Seonghwa said. “But we wanted your first collar to be nice.”

“How about dessert?” San asked, snapping his fingers for a maid to take his plate from the table. “Then maybe watch an arena fight. They broadcast them now.”

“Pet and I already have plans” Hongjoong said, looking you up and down, “So we'll pass tonight. Won't we, Pet?”

“Yes, Master,” you replied with the same seductive drip in your voice. He reached a hand to your throat, thumb ring cold on your warm skin, as he touched the collar again. “Does it look nice on me?”

“Very,” he said, sliding his thumb under it for a moment. “It’ll look better when you’re wearing nothing but this.” He inhaled your scent, and grinned, “Did someone have a little fun before dinner?”

“Maybe,” you said, turning to face him. “You did say I could enjoy myself.”

“I did,” he confirmed, still touching your neck, “With who?”

“Wooyoung. He couldn’t seem to resist me.”

He laughed softly, “Not many people can. I’m tempted to throw you on the table and pound you right here myself.” He brought you closer to him by the chin, thumb tracing your lower lip, “But then my brothers might join and I want you to myself.”

“As if she’d want just you after what I did to her today,” said Seonghwa.

“And what did you do to her?”

“I made her squirt,” he taunted him, smiling cockily at him. “I don’t think she’s ever cummed so hard until she had my tongue and fingers. Imagine what my dick could do if I tried hard enough.”

“Pet,” Hongjoong pouted, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? Where was that last night? I think we did plenty to make you do that.”

“I don't know,” you answered, touching the wrist near your neck and rubbing gently, “It just happened. Don’t be angry with me.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, hand sliding across your jaw and bringing you to his lips. “The thought of it alone makes me hard,” he groaned. “That's my mission tonight. No matter how long we go at it, I'm making you squirt again.”

“I look forward to it,” you assured him, kissing him again.

“I don't see the big deal,” San shrugged, sipping from his wine glass. “If you do it with me, that's great, but it's fine if you don't either.”

“Would you like me to do it for you, Master San?” you looked over at him, batting your lashes.

“Absolutely,” he said, scooting his chair over to you. Like his older brother, he ran his fingers over your collar before kissing you. “I only mean if you didn’t, I won’t be a baby about it like Hongjoong.”

“I wouldn’t be a baby about it,” Hongjoong retorted.

“You so would,” he remarked. “I only care about making you cum around me when I’m deep inside,” he said to you in a low voice. “I love bulging your tummy whenever I go deep enough.”

“I’ve noticed,” you said, “And I love you cumming inside me.” You pecked his lips. This. This is what you started enjoying: keeping them hanging on your words and giving into the natural instincts. You kissed him again before saying, “I love feeling full of you.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa stood behind your chair, hands on your shoulders as he kissed your ear, “I will admit it is hard to not be tempted by you, Kitten. I’ve never had a slave who so eagerly comes to me before,” he kissed your neck, “Honestly come to me, not because she was paid to do it.”

“How can I refuse when you treat me so well?” you asked, turning your head to look at him. “I can be a pain in the ass and end up back in a brothel, where I’m nobody. I can be defiant and get whipped every day-”

“-You say that like it’s a bad thing-” interrupted Hongjoong.

“-Or I can be a good girl,” you said to Seonghwa, locking eyes with him so he didn’t look away, “And be put in pretty clothes, eat good food, drink wine and have as much sex as my masters want. Mingi says you’re all pretty important people. I spent most of my previous life injecting myself into the lives of important, powerful people to get what I want. It’s really nothing I haven’t done before.” You touched the jewel pin of his cravat, lightly brushing under his chin. “As the saying goes, you get more bees with honey than with vinegar.”

“And you certainly taste like honey.”

He kissed you first, cupping your jaw and opening your mouth slowly. San and Hongjoong looked on as Seonghwa’s tongue slid against yours, brushing your lower lip from time to time.

“Too bad you’re with Hongjoong tonight,” he said, breaking away from you. “I’d love to make you cum like that again in my own bed.”

“As if you can’t do that any other time.”

The two of you laughed before Hongjoong interrupted with his own kiss. “You’re mine tonight,” he said, lifting you by the chin as he continued kissing you, “All mine.” He turned to his brothers, “You two enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Turning with you in his arms, his lips went right back to yours. His hunger for you showed in the harsh kisses and soft grunts. He clawed at pieces of clothing until they nearly ripped, tossing them aside in the hallway. Fire ignited inside the both of you. You drowned yourself in his warmth and scent, as you’d done with his brothers. Being in his arms reminded you of all the random encounters you’d have in your previous life. The hot guys you met at bars or clubs often ended up in your bed late at night. This was the same except the man holding you up against the staircase landing was a demon. A demon who owned you now. He could do whatever he liked with you, and you couldn’t resist him.

Not that you wanted to, anyway.

His thigh between your legs, he tugged down your bra and sucked your nipples firmly. He unclasped the garment, then flung it to a corner of the staircase before guiding you up the stairs to the second floor. Once there, against the railing, Hongjoong licked down to your panties and tore them off. By the time you reached the bedroom door, you were completely naked.

San preferred bright, vintage colors. Seonghwa favored the decadence and refinement of old money. Hongjoong, on the other hand, embraced his demonic side. Crimson walls with black bat motifs flying around blooming roses covered the room from black border to border. Red cushions were upholstered by black wood, and black furry rugs covered the hardwood floors. On the walls, Hongjoong hung paintings of various erotic scenes and displayed statues of half naked figures in suggestive poses. You also couldn't help noticing the armoire pressed against a wall.

“Stay here,” he placed a few more kisses on your lips before leaving you for the tall wardrobe. He opened the top drawer, sliding on a pair of black latex gloves as he perused the contents inside. The aching he left behind felt cold and empty. “From the moment you step into my apartment, I want you naked the entire time. It makes things easier in the long run, you know?”

“Yes, Master.”

Standing in the cold room, you wished he'd let you stand by the crackling fireplace. The sudden heat he’d fanned died the longer he made you wait. You thought about touching yourself to keep it going, but that might upset Hongjoong. You looked him over once more. His whip hung from his belt loop casually, like a piece of jewelry or a fashion accessory. He likely wore it to scare the other servants in the house. It certainly sent shivers up your spine. When he finally made his decision, he brought out a wrist and ankle cuff set to you. Black with furry edges, you saw the loops on the inner parts of the cuffs.

“Hold out your wrists.”

You held them out and he placed one on each wrist. Tightening the belt, he asked you, “Is it too tight?”

“No.”

“Alright, good. Your ankles.”

He put similar cuffs around both ankles, and he withdrew a matching leash from his back pocket. He clasped it to your collar. You worried the slightest tug might break the fine lace, but Hongjoong tested this with a few light pulls. Deciding it was durable enough, he wrapped the end of the leash around his hand.

“This way,” he said.

You went with him to the middle of the room where he could admire you in the firelight. Round eyes scanned over your face and body, as if truly seeing you for the first time.

“You really are the most beautiful human I've seen,” he concluded, eyes clouded by lust as he continued eyeing your body. He removed his whip from his belt and walked towards you. He trailed the end of the whip from your cleavage to the middle of your thighs lightly, the touch making you shudder. “And so responsive too,” he sneered, “I like that.” He stepped closer to you, “I like the loud ones. Whimpering and whining always turns me on, but screaming? Crying? Pleading? That…” he huffed a laugh, “That gets me going.” He let the fringes of his whip swing over your thighs ominously. Hongjoong drew closer, lips pressed to your ear, “Will you scream for me, Pet?”

“If you…wish, Master.”

He chuckled darkly, sending more nerves up your spine. He waved his leather whip over your nipples next, pleased as they slowly hardened.

“Don’t you have a schedule for me?” you asked, knowing it’d come sooner or later.

“Schedule?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, your brothers had these schedules for me to follow on my days with them. I thought you had one too?”

“Do you want one?”

“What else would I do on your days otherwise?”

“Me,” he said slyly, pecking your lips. “But, I suppose you should have some kind of structure. Seonghwa is always saying stuff like ‘idle hands make idle minds’ or something dumb like that,” he shook his head, “I didn’t really want much from you other than you submitting to me, which clearly isn’t going to be a problem.” He thought about it while he traced your curves with his whip, “Training could be a thing.”

“Training?”

“Anal training, throat training, pain resistance training, and something else,” he waved it off, “I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t have to give me one, if you’d rather not.”

“No, no, I’ll think of something eventually. You do need a proper routine,” he said. “All pets need good training. How else are you going to serve me properly?” An idea then came to him, “I can ask Yunho! He’s good at discipline and he’d love to teach you. Perhaps Mingi? But he might get caught up in the pleasure of it, and Yunho is bigger than him so he can train your holes properly.” He thought about it quietly, idly brushing you with his whip. “Eh, I’ll consider it. Sit with me for a bit,” he said, bringing you over to the loveseat in front of the fire.

Pulling you onto his lap, he gently ran his fingers up and down your bare legs lazily. Coming up to your thighs, he gave the outer one a tender squeeze. His touch kindled the burning embers within you. You leaned to kiss him softly, tasting the leftover wine and feeling his tongue on yours. Kissing your masters quickly became your favorite thing.

“I feel like I’ve hardly scratched the surface with you,” he said, breaking away from you, “While my brothers find out all kinds of stuff about you.”

“What would you like to know?” you asked, already sensing the question.

“Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done. Go.”

“Ugh,” you thought about it with distaste, “You’d think it’s tame.”

“Tell me anyways,” he encouraged.

“I had sex in my office in front of the big windows looking at the building across the street.”

“Hm,” he considered it, then said, “That is incredibly tame.”

“Told you. What about you?”

“Huh, I’m not sure,” he mused. “I haven’t really thought about it before…”

“Grossest thing then.”

“Golden shower?” he guessed. “We pissed on her.”

“Did you like that?” You hoped not.

“Not really, no,” he shook his head. “I realized then I’m not into watersports like that. I don’t rag on people who do, but it’s not for me really.” He then thought for a moment, “I did jerk off to one of the maids trying to hold her pee in until she couldn’t hold it anymore and pissed on herself.”

“Gross,” you said with disgust.

“I’m just saying I did it. I wouldn’t do it again, since the smell started bugging me, but I did it. Would you…Are you into that?”

“No,” you said right away.

“You wouldn’t even want to try it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s gross, that’s why.”

“Huh…That’s a shame.”

“You said you wouldn’t do it again!”

“With her!” he elaborated. “I wouldn’t mind watching you do that. I’ll let you wear underwear for it, if you want-”

“-Ew, gross.”

“You’re lucky you’re even getting a choice in that.”

“Anything you don’t like in particular?” when he did not answer immediately, you giggled, “That few things, huh?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, nodding as he continued thinking. You couldn’t help laughing with him. “Yeah, I think so!” The two of you laughed together until he said, “Animals, I suppose, if I have to pick something.”

“Really?”

“Why do you say ‘really’ like that?” He said, “Do you like animals like that?”

“Of course not!” you laughed. “I thought you’d be an animal guy.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Because you get turned on by the most vile things,” you said. “You seem like the kind of guy who tries everything at least once. I assumed animals were on that list.”

“I have,” he admitted. “Not personally, but I watched some people and it grossed me out too much so I stole the horse and set their house on fire.”

“What did you do with the horse?”

“Set it free. This was in the living world, so I don’t know. He went wherever horses go, I guess.” He watched you laugh as he said, “I like to try new things. Sometimes those things are a bit ‘out there’. When you’ve been around as long as me, you get bored of stuff really easily.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll get bored of me?” you pouted cutely.

“Not at all,” he said, pecking your lips softly. “I finally have someone to test out new kinks with. We can explore things together and see what we like.” He felt up your side to your chest, brushing a thumb over your nipple, “There are so many things I’d love to do with you, pet.”

“Like what?” you moved from your sitting position to straddling his lap. You felt the seam of his zipper pushing to your pussy, and it reignited the flames. “I’d like to know unless you’d rather keep me in suspense.”

“I’d start off gentle, of course,” he said. “But, I’ve always wanted to try aquaphilia.”

“Aqua-what?”

“It usually involves like swimming or posing underwater, but I’ve always wanted to have sex in water, but we’re in Hell and there’s no fucking bodies of water in Hell!” he said sharply. “Explain how we have water for drinking and bathing, but there are no lakes or oceans or anything. How can I live out my dreams if my world is holding me back?!”

“Can’t you go to the living world, though?”

“I can but nobody wants to go with me.”

“How long has it been since you last went?”

“Fifty years!” he lamented sulkily.

“You might be able to eventually…” you slowly ran your hands down his arms, letting him enjoy your soft touch. “It sounds fun.”

“It probably is!” He put his hands on your hips, his latex gloves smooth on your skin. Thumbs rubbing back and forth, he continued, “I'd like to fuck in a coffin one day.”

“A coffin?”

“Or a small closet,” he added. “You know, a confined space where we're trapped together? It'd be hot.” He moved closer to peck at your shoulder. “Have you ever done BDSM before?” He asked, kissing up your neck to your ear.

“Not the way you likely have, Master.”

He chuckled, “I bet not. I imagine it was a little bit of rope or some light spanking?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like that?”

“At the time.”

“Do you think you’ll like it with me?”

“I know I will, sir.”

“Oh? How?”

“You sound like you'd know what you're doing,” you said, leaning closer to him. “And do I honestly have a choice?”

“Not really no,” he said, leaning to meet you. Inches from you, you saw the crimson ring around the brown irises. Demon blood. A pure blooded demon. “But, doesn't that make it more fun? Knowing you can't say no to me?”

“For you, perhaps. I am your slave, sir. I can only do my best to please you.”

“Spoken like a broken slut,” he said proudly.

“Do you like that?” You asked, fingers tracing the collar of his shirt. “Or would you prefer I was the high-spirited sinner you like to break?”

“How about tonight,” he took your hand to hold and kiss, “You be a good slut and let me have my way?”

“If that's what pleases you,” you said.

“Oh, it'd please me greatly.” He gave your thigh a slight tap, “Come, let me show you around.”

He led you by your leash into a brightly lit room. Seeing the various bondage equipment and walls of sex toys and instruments, Hongjoong’s dungeon came with every toy one could think of. Long chains and ropes hung from hooks on the ceiling, and you gulped at the clasps hanging from the ends. Hongjoong loosened the leash to let you roam and observe the various pieces: the wooden horse, the chair, the x-cross, the stockade, and the tall cage with a smaller counterpart. Certain pieces of furniture had hooks nailed to them for sexual and practical use. You examined the wall of sex toys. Hanging from a bar, he displayed all manner of whips, chains, paddles and belts alongside a case of toys in various shapes and colors. Hongjoong no doubt planned on using all of these on you at some point.

“What do you think?” He asked, playing with your leash around his hand.

“It's extensive,” you answered honestly. You took out a long wooden switch he kept inside a vase in the corner. You bent it slightly just because you could. This would definitely hurt.

“I like variety,” he answered.

You put the switch back. “Have you used all of these before?”

“At one time or another,” he said. “My brothers don't like it as much as me, but they enjoy my toy collection. San thought I didn't know that he’d steal my dildos and vibrators. I told him if he ever wanted to use one, he could ask and I'd gladly help.” You heard him walk up behind you, lips softly pecking your neck, “We can use them on him together sometime. If you're a good girl, I'll even let you use them on your own.” His whip sailed down your spine to the crack of your ass. He let it swish over the backs of your thighs, so you trembled. “San told me Yunho watched you two fuck this morning. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck him too?”

“No. He only watched.”

“Hm, good to know.” He slid the handle of his whip over your ass and right to your sex again. “I'd love to fuck you in front of all of them sometime. They already go through peepholes around the house, but I mean doing it in front of them.” The ridges of the handle brushed over your slit once or twice, having you gasp when he pulled it back. “I'll let you pick tonight: where would you like it?”

“Your bed?” You asked, hoping it was an option.

“Then my bed it is. You go ahead,” he said, “I'll pick out fun things for us to use.”

You walked back into his bedroom, taking a seat on the corner of the bed. The soft crimson sheets and covers molded to your position, the fabric lightly pressed to your wet sex. You started grinding against the bed, eager for relief in the gradual motions. Hands cupping your breasts, you played with your nipples as you quietly humped the bed. It was then that someone appeared from the shadows.

“-Master Hongjoong, I thought you should know…Oh, wow…”

Mingi stood in the corner of the room, hidden halfway in the shadows before he stepped out of them. His eyes glued themselves to your naked body, illuminated by the fire near the bed. You stopped moving right away, removing your hands and keeping them at your sides.

“Where’s Ma-Master Hongjoong?” he asked, gulping.

“In the other room,” you answered, “Getting some things for me.”

“Is he?” he breathed, biting the inside of his cheek. “That’s…I will be going then. I’ll come back, um, later. You know, when you’re not…like this.”

“Does her nakedness bother you, Mingi?”

Hongjoong entered the room, a black bag in one hand and a small wooden paddle in the other. Eyes twinkling with delight, he kept them on Mingi while he placed the items on the bed. He cupped your chin and kissed you, flicking your bottom lip and capturing it with his mouth.

“Um, sir?” Mingi said bewildered, confused by the question.

“The naked form is one of the most natural things in the world,” he said. He reached into the bag and withdrew a pair of small nipple clamps. “Just like sex. It’s part of who we are. Whether you’re a demon, a human, or something else, sexual desire is inherent. Our society wouldn’t exist without it.”

He put one of the clamps on each of your nipples, creating a never ending whirl of pleasure. He guided you over to the headboard on your back. There, he attached your handcuffs to the middle where he'd nailed a small hook. He used belts to keep your knees attached to a harness he put around your waist. This made your lower half completely vulnerable to him. Mingi’s mouth opened at the sight of you. His eyes raked over you, seeing your tight ass and soaked pussy splayed out for his viewing pleasure.

“Being naked is how we’re meant to be,” Hongjoong said, sliding his hand across your breasts to squeeze one of them. “It’s how pleasure slaves are meant to be,” he pushed back your hair, admiring your face as he pushed a thumb past your lips. He exhaled deeply at the lips sucking his thumb so willingly. “See? She has only been here a day, and she’s already giving into her natural instincts. She’s fucked both her masters, let Jongho and Yunho jerk off to her, and gave Yeosang and Wooyoung handjobs. She’s so eager,” his mouth opened when you stuck your tongue out for him to slide over, “And horny. So, I’ll ask you again, soldier: Does her nakedness bother you?”

“Not…Not at all, sir.”

Being tied added to the tension from your arousal. A bout of excitement hit you as you dreamed up his plans. You had your fair share of BDSM sessions, so you weren't a complete novice. Yet, something about Hongjoong's casual tone and the way he secured you comfortably told you you're in the hands of an expert. With you settled, Hongjoong's hand went down from your knee to your inner thigh.

Hongjoong laughed, moving from your mouth to your center. “Don’t act like such a saint, Mingi. She isn’t the first slave you’ve helped me with before.” The smooth gloves kept a thin layer between the two of you, your wetness making it easier for him to slide around. You gave a soft whine, feeling his fingers trace your slit. “I know how much you like tying up those leftovers the servants get, and using them however you wish. I’ve seen what they look like afterwards.”

“That’s different, sir. Those are pleasure slaves from brothels,” he said. “She’s yours. I wouldn’t dare touch something that is yours.”

“I’ve never been one to deny someone their most basic want,” Hongjoong grinned when you pushed your hips to his light fingers. “See? Pet isn’t afraid to give in to what she wants. Why do you hesitate?”

“As I said, she is your property. If it were a case of her being a leftover or a brothel girl, I wouldn’t.”

“Would you be content with watching, perhaps? I love an audience,” he rubbed his hand over your pussy a few times before giving it a sharp smack, “And so does Pet. You can even use the vibrator sleeves I have.”

“That would be delightful, sir,” he said, slowly moving to a chair and bringing it to the bed. He angled himself to sit across from you, “She is nice to watch.”

“Very. Now, what should I use first?”

“I think something simple,” Mingi suggested, “It is her first time.”

“Right you are.”

He withdrew a silver anal plug, and a bottle of lubricant. “I want you to stay put for me,” he said when he poured small droplets onto your pussy, then spread them further down. “Don’t move a single muscle, understand?”

He smiled when you nodded. You knew that would be almost impossible for you. He worked you up too much for you to hold it off. Using the plug, Hongjoong spread the lube from your sensitive clit to your clenching asshole. Breathing heavily, chest rising and falling, you anticipated the rush of pleasure coming your way. The pointed tip ran around your hole, smearing more lubricant before starting to penetrate you. A thumb rubbing your clit, it added to the mounting pleasure. You had the urge to move up into it, but your position made that difficult.

“No moving,” Hongjoong said, giving your pussy a hard spank that only served to arouse you further.

Hongjoong moved the plug little by little: he'd stick it halfway in before pulling it back out. Whether he did it out of caution or torture, either way you died for him to do more. He continued pushing the plug in and out, sometimes sinking it fully inside and other times halfway. You couldn’t keep still for him this time. The desperation flowed through you each time the toy filled you.

“What did I say?” he asked, smacking your pussy two more times. “Huh? What did I say?”

“Not to move,” you sniffled.

“Then don’t move. I won’t hesitate to flip you over and spank you. Do it again and I stop.”

“No, no,” you shook your head, “Don’t stop.”

“Then behave and do what I say.” He went back to the plug, groaning when he sunk it inside you. You nearly writhed in his hold, but you stayed firm against the bed. “She looks pretty like this, huh?”

“Very, sir.”

“Mingi, sit closer. You can't see how wet she is from there.”

Mingi sat at the edge of the bed. He stayed focused on your center, marveling at the anal plug nestled in you. You breathed heavily through your nose when you heard the buzzing of a vibrator nearby. An average size and the color of emeralds, the vibrator started where the plug sat. This turned the stable plug into its own vibrator, sending subtle sparks to your pussy. Your thighs quaked at the low humming, feeling it rumble up into your body from the small toy. Lifting your legs higher out of habit, the toy suddenly turned off.

“Roll over, slut.”

“Master, wait-”

“-It seems I’m going to have to teach you how to follow orders.”

With impressive strength, Hongjoong rolled you onto your front. The position kept your face halfway buried in his pillows and your ass in the air. You gasped once something hard and cold made circles on your left buttock. Heartbeat pounding in your ears, your body tensed at the first soft hit. Fingernails pressing into your palms, you cried out as he landed a second spank to your right cheek. After three more hits, Hongjoong increased the harshness. The paddle, likely thin and long, covered both cheeks easily. You could feel its length in every spank. Some smacks later, he went harder. The repeated slaps left a stinging burn on your skin. They reach down to your thighs at some points. The pain only radiated your arousal more. Each time the hard wood hit your center, you received a little pleasure with the sting. Every spank rocked through your body, displeasing Hongjoong.

“I told you not to move,” he said as he spanked you again, “And you’re still doing it. You slum sluts really are empty headed, huh?” You screamed as he made several hard hits, shaking in place. “I’m only going to keep going. I can do this all night.”

You planted yourself firmly on the bed. Tears filled your eyes from the pain, streaming onto the satin pillow. You could feel your orgasm building from the continued hitting. He must have known the effect, since he occasionally slid the paddle up your dripping pussy before spanking it. Gripping the headboard chains tightly, you channeled the pain into your hands instead, holding them tightly to keep yourself steady.

“And to think you told me you’d be a good girl,” Hongjoong scolded. “I’m not sure if you know this, but good girls do what they’re told.” He spanked you again, so hard it vibrated everywhere. “Bad girls get spanked and teased to the edge. Isn’t that right, Mingi?”

“Too right.”

“So, what are we going to do, whore?”

“Be a good girl,” you whimpered, crying when he slapped your ass again. “I’ll be good. I promise, Master.”

“That’s what you said when you humped me like a damn dog,” he laid more spanks that had you screaming into the pillow. Sobbing, you held onto the chains until your knuckles whitened. “Promise me you’ll stay still. I can’t fuck you if you’re moving around like this.”

“I-I promise.”

Then, you heard the rough pulling of tape from behind you. Shaking your head, you knew exactly what your master had planned. The vibrator, likely an egg shaped bullet toy, stayed firmly inside you. Then, you felt the presence of paper tape across your thighs. The tape kept the egg nestled between your folds and created a new sensation.

The vibrator returned, the round head swishing lightly over your clit. The mixture of pain and pleasure worked deep in your core, having you moaning into the pillow. When a hand pulled at your hair, lifting your face from the bed, Hongjoong pressed the vibrator fully against you. He chuckled at the constant cries coming through your throat. He and Mingi listened as the volume and pressure had you either giving low hums or loud groaning. You screamed from the sparks the vibrator created when directly on your clit. Yet, the entire time, you kept yourself from moving even an inch. You still ached from the spanking, and the new position buried the plug deeper into your ass. When he rapidly moved the vibrator around, you wept openly at the overwhelming pleasure.

Hongjoong then whipped at your thighs and calves. You heard the crack of his personal whip on your skin, the tips slapping your tender flesh. Behind you, deep low moans started faintly reaching you.

“You enjoy watching me hurt them, don’t you?” Hongjoong asked, amused by Mingi’s reaction.

“I love…I love to hear them cry. Seeing them tear up as I’m spanking or whipping them just…Fuck, it gets me so hard so fast.”

“You hear that?” he bent down to your ear, tapping the egg with his whip, “Mingi likes watching pretty girls cry. Are you going to cry for him?” When you didn’t answer, he dug the bullet further inside you. “Are you?”

“Yes, yes!”

Quickly, Hongjoong unchained you from the headboard, and chained your wrists close together instead. Bringing you towards Mingi, he lifted your head so the bodyguard saw your tear streaked face. He pumped himself faster, moaning in every stroke as he looked at you. Hongjoong straddled your knees, removed your plug and filled your ass with something larger. Mingi groaned when he realized what Hongjoong had done.

“Oh,” he breathed, “The tentacle one.”

Hongjoong cackled, “One of the longer ones I have. Her ass was so tight last night, it milked every drop out of me.”

“Green-Gr-Greenho-house,” Mingi managed to get out, “You should take her there. She’d love it.”

“A very good idea,” he agreed, pushing the dildo in and out of you to create more pleasure. “I'll keep that in mind.”

You clung to the edge of the bed as the two toys worked together to bring you to the edge. Right when you thought you might combust, Hongjoong withdrew the dildo and shut off the vibrator. The squeal of frustration you let out amused both men. Mingi kept stroking himself and Hongjoong spanked your ass lightly.

“You didn’t think you’d get to cum that easily, did you?” he mocked you, cackling at your shivering body. “No, no, no, pet,” he ran his hands up your back and into your hair, tugging at the roots on your scalp, “I’m having way too much fun to stop now. You’re cumming when I want you to.”

He chained you to the bars above the bed, leaving you dangling from the middle bar in a kneeling position. From the bag, he withdrew a dildo attached to a small machine. Hongjoong slipped the flesh colored dildo between your thighs and pushed it up into you. Mingi and him moaned together when the small machine began thrusting the toy inside you at a steady pace. The absolute euphoria of it blinded you to all sense. The cooldown of your orgasm slowly heated back up as the toy pushed into your g-spot repeatedly. Hongjoong allowed you to quake and tremble above the machine, and enjoyed the effect the vibrating egg had when he turned it on. Tears came down your cheeks, and you wriggled around with hopes of being allowed an orgasm.

It didn’t happen. Hongjoong raised the speed and he laughed when you pathetically begged for him to let you cum.

“I don’t want to yet,” he said, grabbing his whip out of habit. Swinging it across your lower stomach, a few strips caught between your legs. When you jerked at the slight sting, he continued doing it. “It’s fun watching you scream for me,” he said, laughing through clenched jaws as he turned up the speed on both toys. “Scream,” he whipped you, “Scream for me!”

You tugged at your chains as an orgasm hurled its way towards you. Shaking and crying, you sobbed when he turned off your stimulants right at the last moment. “Master! Please!” you wept, your pussy feeling empty and painful from the fierce edging.

He lowered your chains to bend you forward, your arms now behind you and suspending your top half from the bed. “Suck Mingi’s cock,” he said, “And I’ll think about it.”

Mingi did not hesitate to yank down his pants and kneel in front of you. Grabbing the back of your head, he sunk deep into your mouth until he reached your throat. The dildo began pumping in and out from this new angle, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning around the dick in your mouth. Mingi proved merciless like his master. Holding your hair back, he held you in place as he fucked your throat. He didn’t care about the constant gagging, the strings of drool or your throaty moans. He pushed in and out like any other hole in your body. This had you groaning and whimpering. You loved the feeling of being used. It felt nice to not think for a while. Being at the mercy of horny incubi brought you close to an orgasm again. Hongjoong tapping his own cock against your gaped ass hole nearly made you cum.

You let out a yelp when he plunged into it, fists keeping him propped up as he took you. Having Mingi filling your mouth, the toy filling your pussy and Hongjoong in your ass left you a whining, mewling mess. This pleased both men, causing them to pick up their pace. When Mingi withdrew to let you breathe, he slapped his wet dick against your cheeks hard. The thick muscle burned your jaw and throat, but you wanted more.

“Spit on it, slut.”

You spat on it, thick drool and precum sliding onto his head. You stuck your tongue out to receive it, but instead Mingi slapped you again on the opposite cheek. The sticky mess smeared on your cheeks, mouth and nose as Mingi whacked your face. Their shared laughter at your expense left you shivering.

“Just another dirty hole,” Hongjoong grunted, holding you by the waist as he thrusted into you. “That’s all you fucking are at the end of the day: a pretty set of holes for us to use. You’re going to have a lot of fun here…So much fun…Would you like that?” he slapped your ass hard, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you said, the answer muffled by Mingi sticking himself back into your mouth. “Yes, Master.”

“She sounds cute when she’s being gagged,” Mingi moaned, returning to fucking your face. “It almost makes me wish she were another slum slut from the city. Then I could…I could fuck her however I wanted.”

“And how would you do that, Mingi?” Hongjoong pulled out of you, but turned on the vibrator still taped to your clit. Unable to push into the sex machine, you hung there and let it keep going.

“Lock her in a cage,” he said, “And use her holes whenever I feel like it. Whip her. Shock her. Bring her to the edge over and over. Take her to the greenhouse…watch Dennis fuck her until she’s nothing but a broken bitch for me. That’s what I like, sir: broken whores who don’t know anything other than how to take cock.”

“We really are kindred spirits,” Hongjoong smiled.

You don’t know how long they went at you. You only knew the two demons did whatever they could to keep you on edge, crying and screaming for mercy. When Hongjoong finally filled your pussy himself, he kept the vibrator going the entire time. Cradled in his lap, he pushed up into you while Mingi used your limp hand to jerk himself with. Both men knew exactly how to keep you hanging on. It’s as if they could each see inside your deepest desires, and twist them to their advantage. You thought the torture might never end. You thought you might simply be forced to near orgasm over and over until the end of time. Body gleaming with sweat, hair frizzy and messy, and the scent of semen and sex on you made you a pitiful sight. You could hardly stay up long enough to ride Hongjoong after a while.

You never thought they’d let you cum until Hongjoong had you pounded into the mattress. Mingi, close to orgasm, toyed with the bullet attached to you as he stroked his wet cock. You almost did not want to for fear of them denying you again. Sobbing out of desperation, you laid there with your legs chained to the bars, your hand being used like a toy and let Hongjoong work himself out on you.

“You can cum now, pet,” he said, bending down to finally kiss you. “I promise you can.” He lifted your hips and slammed directly into you. “You can cum, I swear. I want to hear you cum for me, baby. My sweet, slutty, empty-headed baby,” he kissed down your neck comfortingly, palming your sore breasts and playing with your clamped nipples.

“N-N-No,” you wept. “You’ll take it away.”

“I won’t, baby,” he kissed down to your nipples. He removed one clamp to replace it with his mouth. “Cum for me.”

Reluctantly, you allowed your climax to wash over you. Shaking, trembling, burning and aching, your moans could be heard from down the hall. That same strange shooting feeling from before happened. Clear cum shot and around Hongjoong's cock. You squirted again and this took Hongjoong to a new plane of bliss. Keeping himself balanced on one arm, he grabbed your tit and thrusted deep into you. You would’ve thought he wanted to ensure his semen rooted inside you. That alone prolonged your climax. Mingi, you saw, came with both of you, white streaks falling onto his exposed stomach.

When the desire finally passed, Hongjoong unchained you. “Yun…Yunho,” he breathed out tiredly, “Yunho!”

In a single puff of smoke, Yunho appeared beside the bed. “You called, Master?”

“Bring water, a sponge, some healing cream,” he laid beside you, sweaty and exhausted, “Honeyed tea, and a snack for Pet. She’s…had a rough night.”

“As you wish.”

“You can go with him, Mingi,” Hongjoong said, eyes shutting. “You did well.”

“Thank you for the opportunity, Master.”

Mingi slowly slid off the bed, straightening himself up as he followed Yunho from the room. Alone with Hongjoong, you laid in the bed while he carefully removed the taped bullet. Lazily, he pushed all the devices to the side to be collected later, and used a hand cloth to wipe excess fluids from you.

“Are you alright, Pet?” he asked, kissing your forehead before wiping it with the damp cloth.

“Ye-yes,” you croaked, allowing yourself to give in to your exhaustion.

“Yunho’s bringing a few things to take care of you,” he said. “I’m so proud of my sweet girl.” He brought you close to him, pecking your forehead again, “I thought for sure you’d cum before I asked. I didn’t know you’d hold it for so long like that.”

“It hurts,” you pouted, rolling onto your side and feeling the soreness in the front and back.

“I’ll take care of that for you. Just stay up a bit longer so we can get some tea for your throat. Don’t talk too much or you’ll strain it more. Gosh, Mingi went quite hard,” he said, massaging your throat for you. “Perhaps I’ll let him just watch next time. My horny side gets caught in the heat of the moment sometimes. My poor pet,” he sighed, hugging you to him. “Did you like it?”

You only nodded, not wanting to make your throat worse. You truly had enjoyed it, edging and all. You’d never done anything like it, and it left you floating on clouds. Shutting your eyes, you didn’t notice Yunho reappearing with the items his master requested. You opened your mouth to sip the hot tea, and nibbled on the apple slices and almonds at Hongjoong’s insistence. The real relief came when Hongjoong began sponge cleaning you. His gentle hands held you so delicately, like you might break if he handled you too roughly. Applying a cold lotion to your more tender parts you melted with ease. It tingled your entrances, and soothed the heat radiating from your ass and thighs.

“Sleep now, pet,” he said, pecking your shoulder blades and bringing you to him again. “You can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow. Seonghwa can start his morning without you for a bit.”

“Thank you, Master.”

You turned to snuggle into him, finally falling asleep in his arms.

***

Y/N: woo that was intense! I think it's one of my more intense smut scenes to be honest. I'm so glad you guys are liking this series of mine! remember to like and reblog (leave a comment if you want). <3

#pirateeznet #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #hongioong ateez #ateez hongjoong

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