#those three are unmovable

[iridescentis]

it really baffles me how far i have gone with sam & cat and by extension puckentine being one of my longest lasting interests ever

sam & cat was the first nickelodeon/disney show i ever watched because i didn't grow up with those channels (yeah i found sam & cat and victorious before icarly because they were on netflix) and even though i don't know if i could commit to rewatching it now i still love it wholeheartedly despite how admittedly bad it is

for fucks sake i can recite majority of the first episode's script by heart and i haven't watched it in years! it is my favourite fun fact that the safe in the girl's closet has the lock combination '74739' WHY WOULD I NEED TO KNOW THAT (and yes i went to go fact check that so i don't embarrass myself and i was right)

it's so funny because this show has been with me for so long that it was a running joke with friends and family that i would bring it up whenever i could, it means so much to me and even though the quality isn't great i would defend it with my life

puckentine has remained my favourite ship of all time for so many years, even when i was enjoying seddie whilst watching icarly it was always second best, nothing has come close except jeric from boy meets world WHICH IS BASICALLY THE SAME SHIP IN A DIFFERENT FONT. i will probably write an analysis of puckentine later on because i have so much to say about it

i think the reason why ships like puckentine and jeric have meant so much to me for so long is because it's the weird comedic relief character finally finding someone who loves them for them not despite of their stupidity or childishness but BECAUSE of that, they finally have someone who understands and enjoys those parts of them which REALLY hits home for me

this is a very abrupt and cheesy rant but i held back on talking about this before because i was genuinely made fun of for loving this show so much and i really wanted to actually write about it for once

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Joel doesn't have a Mrs. but he does have a sports car.

author's note | @chaotic-mystery made me listen to sports car and i said you know what? yeah. this one's especially feral, sorry in advance.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, girthy age gap, car talk, sad hot grieving dads gone wild, daddy kink, more specifically daddy issues, mutual mas, no touch rules, cum eating, pure filth

word count — 5k — PART TWO

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Your tongue rolls over your teeth inside of your mouth as you stare with folded arms, phone clutched tightly in your hand as you wait eagerly for your driver to arrive and get you the hell out of here.

“Stunning,” You offer a forced smile, watching as your date lingered around the old car, pristine and well-cared for, an unattainable feat for such an immature man-child like himself.

It was the last time you were allowing your friends to set you up on a blind date, nearing the point of swearing off dating entirely, knowing that a man who couldn’t even cover half the check wasn’t driving around in a classic Pontiac, let alone affording the upkeep for it.

“Sure you don’t wanna change your mind?” He asks eagerly, the subtle admiration of the car waning as he comes into view, knowing the old beater a few spots down was surely his.

The bells above the convenience store next door jingle as people enter and exit, taking another impatient glance at your phone. You watch as the boy takes a seat against the hood and it makes you cringe internally, swallowing your words as an even deeper voice interjects from behind.

“I’ll give you about three seconds to get your ass of my hood,” The older man threatened, spinning the keys in his palm as he set the six pack of beer on the roof, the younger kid scrambled to his feet instantly, “—is he botherin’ you?”

“Unfortunately,” You mumble as you take another glance at your phone and curse under your breath, watching the unmoving dot on the screen.

“Get outta here, kid,” The mystery man barks, “looks like you already ruined her night and I don’t need some runt like you fuckin’ up my car.”

You both watch as he sulks to his car, just as you suspected, your lips pulling into a thin line to stifle the laugh that built in your chest, feeling lighter for the first time that night.

“Does that happen often?” You ask curiously, watching as he fiddled with his door before the lock popped and the door swung open, the six pack of beer carefully placed in the passenger seat as he rose back up to answer your question, hands curled around the edge of the roof.

“Ever since I fixed her up,” He pauses, recollecting, “probably a once a week ordeal. They’re easy to run off, fortunately. You waitin’ on something?”

“My ride,” You wobble your phone back and forth weakly and Joel squints, shaking his head as he winces at the guttural backfire of the engine in the car behind him, the final memory of your absolutely awful date as he disappears down the road.

“Kid had a car and couldn’t even bother to pick you up or take you home?” He asks curiously, strangely not unsettled by his openness to conversation given his gruff exterior, “Some nerve.”

“It was a blind date,” You shrug, “My friends they—”

“Those ain’t friends,” He interrupts politely, “if they set you up with a guy like that.”

“Well, maybe—” Your words linger, shifting from foot to foot as the conversation dies out and your feet begin to ache, the summer heat making you uncomfortable, the silk fabric of your dress sticking to your skin as you wipe at your damp cheek and push your hair behind your ear.

“Hop in,” He tells you, stooping into his car as he closes the door, his waiting gaze staring up at you through the window, “I can give you a ride.”

“I…don’t know,” You answer uneasily, “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Joel,” He answers almost immediately, “I’m not a genius but I figure you had a shitty date, no sense in you paying for a ride home if I can offer one. Chivalry ain’t that dead, sweetheart.”

You offer him your name quietly, approaching the car with some hesitation. 

He seemed like an honest enough man, swooping in like a knight in shining armor.

You’ve given worse men a fairer chance—so, fuck it.

–

“My dad had a car like this,” You perk up after a few minutes, the glass bottles clinking against each other from where they sat by your feet, between your legs, “not a ‘67—was a ‘69.”

“You know your shit?” Joel asks curiously, his left hand settled over the top of the steering wheel while his right was settled against the gear shift, “He teach you about ‘em?”

Oddly, conversation with Joel was easy. A similar interest, neither of you with any room to judge one another. Equals.

“I pestered him alot,” You admit, “I was supposed to end up with it but he sold it before he died. God, what I wouldn’t give—”

“She is a beaut,” Joel admits, giving a soft tap to the dashboard, “and a labor of love.”

“She? What’s her name?” You ask knowingly, the slightest hint of a smirk on your face.

He spoke so fondly of the car, as if it breathed life into him. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

“Sarah,” He offers up more subdued, but a soft smile graces his face for a brief moment, “s’long story, doesn’t matter.”

“My dad named his Jameson,” You say suddenly in an attempt to add some levity, “funny, since my dad was an alcoholic…”

Okay, maybe not funny, but Joel gives you a pity chuckle anyways. 

Luckily, your nervous admittance is quickly looked over.

“So, where’m I takin’ you?”

You chew at your bottom lip and glance sheepishly at Joel.

“Um…UT?”

“Goddamn, that’s like—”

“An hour away, yeah,” You sigh, “I won’t be upset if you want to stop at the next gas station, I have the money for a ride, it isn’t that big of a—”

“I’m about five minutes up the road,” Joel begins, fingers flexing lazily ahead as they raise from the steering wheel, “I’ve got a spare room, I can take you up there in the morning.”

“You’re a total stranger, you know?”

“There’s a motel just a ways up,” Joel suggested with ease.

Though as you approach it looks bleak, the fluorescent lights blinking overhead and a glaring spot for much more nefarious activity with the perfectly placed strip club across the road, feeling the car pull to a slow stop.

“I…think I’ll take you up on that spare room,” You stutter out.

Joel nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he shifts gears and pulls back onto the road. 

The flickering neon lights of the seedy motel fade in the rearview mirror.

“That place ain't fit for anyone, let alone a young lady like yourself."

“I’m not young,” You retort, ‘I’m twenty-three.”

“And I’m as old as this car,” Joel retorts, watching your face scrunch up in thought as you did the mental math in your head before he puts you out of your misery, “I’m fifty-eight, sweetheart.”

Pushing sixty? Big deal.

You’ve had older professors flirting with you inappropriately on a weekly basis, at least Joel was being polite and kind and not at all as sleazy as most men, at least, not yet.

You stare at him without his knowledge, his eyes focused intently on the road. He’s rugged, facial hair thick and unevenly covering his face, plush lips parting as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip, a permanent scowl on his rather softened expression. 

He’s devastatingly attractive. 

And there’s something about him that comforts you, a remnant of protection despite the unconventional circumstance of finding yourself in a stranger’s care after a terrible date on the way to an unfamiliar place.

Eventually, the car slows, rumbling into a small cul de sac with four other houses surrounding his own, certainly picturesque and not what you would suspect from a man like him. He cuts the engine dead as he pulls into his driveway and wordlessly leans his body over the center console, a hand snaking between your spread legs as he reaches for the six-pack of beer.

“Home sweet home,” He jokes lightly, “C’mon.”

With trepidation and a sudden heat to your face as he peers up at you for a moment while his hand is settled between your thighs, you nod.

Please don’t be a fucking serial killer, you think. 

A silent prayer said to anyone that would listen.

-

He’s a perfect gentleman, fortunately. 

Joel gives you a short tour, displaying the spare room at the end of the hall, an attached bathroom and plenty of escape routes—he seems to sense the unease still as it lingers.

“You said twenty-three, right?” He double checks, “You want a beer? Or water? I got some soda, too.”

“Beer is fine,” You answer with a nod, turning on your heels to follow him back down the hall and toward the kitchen, watching as Joel flicked on the overhead light above the kitchen island and pulled two beers from the cardboard casing.

He pops the caps off with ease before he’s pushing the beer into your hand and taking a sip of his own, leading you toward the dining room as he pulls out a chair for you and him, a comfortable distance as his legs spread out when he sits, the glass resting against his denim covered knee.

“So your daddy, he taught you a lot about cars?”

“How to take care of ‘em,” You explain, “What’s good, what’s shit. I’ve got a soft spot for the classics, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like them fast, too.”

“Smart girl,” Joel notes, but then he lingers for a moment and watches as you sip gingerly at your beer, “I’m curious—and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but what happened back there? Other than that kid makin’ a complete ass of himself?”

The comment should not make your insides twist the way they do, a faint throb between your legs that you hide with a cough and another long sip, “He’s just…not great. And the gesture was there, he tried paying for the date, but then his card declined and, well…”

“Sounds like a real winner,” He mocks, taking a hefty sip before the liquid is gone, sliding the empty glass along the dinner table.

“He’s not my type, anyways,” You shrug, finishing off your own beer and mirroring his actions, watching as he silently grabbed the bottles and stood up, disposing of them in the nearby trash.

Joel makes an unintelligible noise as he shakes his head, “And what exactly would that be?”

You hum thoughtfully, “A V8 engine for starters, some real hefty horsepower, a nice spacy interior,”

“Damn, just my type,” Joel plays along, “I like that you know your shit—you savin’ up for one?”

A car, he means.

 Given that you were attempting to find a ride home, it seemed like a valid question.

“Trying, sure.” You shrug nonchalantly, “It’s more of a dream anymore, college isn’t exactly the cheapest.”

A beat passes as Joel slips back into his seat and you pull your bare feet up into the chair, curling your arms around your knees loosely before you speak again.

“Serious answer—I don’t date boys my age ever. I was only entertaining it because my friends wouldn’t shut up about it. They’re usually older; thirties, forties. You can judge me—I get it.”

“Ain’t nothing to judge,” Joel shrugs, “You like what you like.”

“And you?”

Joel laughs at that, looking away briefly as you smile, poking his thigh with your foot as he thinks for a moment, eyes dragging toward the floor.

“I’m too old for that shit—ain’t nothing for me.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” You tell him honestly, knowing that most of the girls would be ripping each other’s throats out for a moment with him, the perfect amount of mysterious and dark, a hint of southern gentleman in the way he carries himself, a total fucking smoke show.

You knew just how deadly you’d be vying for a chance with him.

And here he was, like an offering plopped right into your lap.

Besides, you were having a bad night, what else did you have to lose?

“That so?” Joel seemed to be testing the waters too, a playfulness in his eyes that was deeply subdued but there, simmering. He wasn’t going to try anything unless you initiated, lucky for him, you were more than eager by now.

“Oh, I know so,” You nod with confidence, “Nice car—you got that whole dark and mysterious thing going for you and you’re hot, s’not like I’m blind, Joel.”

“Is there somethin’ you’re gettin’ at, sweetheart?” Joel asks curiously.

You shrug, a mischievous grin crossing your face.

You’ve had plenty of one night stands; terrible dates with half-decent sex.

You spent two hours getting ready, another getting to dinner, and you’d be damned to waste such a good opportunity when it presented itself.

“I had a shit night and you’ve already managed to make it better,” You admit, “I’m just sayin’ as a thank you, we could—”

“I’m not askin’ for a thank you, sweetheart,” His voice is immediately softer, alluring.

His brow twitches as you lock eyes, like a moment of consideration crosses his mind, large palms splayed out against even larger thighs, the type that made you curious.

He had the body of a man well-worked; a mix of someone who’s aged with grace and maintained his lifestyle through work, broad shoulders that begged to be explored, stretching as he fidgeted in his chair.

“If I told you I wanted you to fuck me, would you?”

Joel speaks your name aloud and you smile sheepishly, though he knows it was an act, feeling a little braver with a few shots of liquid courage from earlier in the night and a beer to loosen your nerves further.

You were staring at the veins in his hands now, calloused fingers rubbing at a soft, flayed spot in his jeans, right above the knee, tanned skin hiding underneath. 

“It’s not a question of would I, honey. I can’t.”

So, he would.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I’m gonna save you the regret—besides, I got a few rules for myself, and if not allowing myself to touch you when we just met is one of ‘em, I think that’s fair.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You goad, feet dropping slowly to the ground between his widened legs, “Do you want me to touch you? Is that against the rules?”

Joel knows there’s no benefit in lying.

“‘Course I think you’re pretty but you sure got a mouth,” Joel comments, fingers flexing against his thigh as he leans back in his chair, letting out a long breath through his nose as he peers over at you, “I’m willin’ to do a lot more than touch, sweetheart. But, not like this, not tonight.”

“I’m not drunk,” You defend, “C’mon, Joel. I got all dressed up tonight and I’m askin’,”

Half a second short of begging.

“Sweetheart,” He warns, “M’not gonna,”

“Then touch yourself,” You encourage, “let me watch.”

“Now, what makes you think—”

Your straps droop down your shoulders, one adjustment short of your breasts spilling out of your dress as your head nods toward his subtle adjustment between his legs, pulling slightly at the denim suffocating his growing erection.

He’s got a beautiful girl presenting herself to him, one more no away from dropping to her knees to wallow, lips parted as you breathed out softly, thighs separating so far that Joel catches the quickest glimpse of your thin panties, nearly see-through with how wet you were, your hands squeezing at the fabric near the end of your dress like a nervous tic.

Joel wasn’t blind either.

“You were going to do it after I went to sleep, weren’t you?

“You’re stubborn as hell, girl—”

“I bet it’s big,” You throw from left-field, a smirk growing on your face, “I love sucking cock, Joel. It’s my favorite thing—s’not a rule break, right? If I touch you and you keep your hands to yourself? Do you want me on my knees? Wanna see what I look like with your cock in my mouth?”

His jaw clenches, watching the muscle strain underneath his skin as he clears his throat.

“Don’t be shy—”

“I”m not shy.”

Then?

Your eyebrows raise in question, your dress pulling slowly up your thighs, legs widening with the movement before Joel finally relents, the deafening sound of his zipper pulling a soft giggle from your chest as you wiggle with excitement.

Joel's hand hesitates for a moment before he reaches into his pants, shoving them far enough down his thighs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls out his hardening cock, watching him swell in the loose grip of his palm. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it—thick and veiny, an easy seven inches, a heavy set of balls to match as his fingers roll along the tight skin and up, his fingers drifting featherlight over his cock.

“This what you wanted?” Joel asks, low and throaty, a strain to his tone.

You nod eagerly, bottom lip pulling between your teeth as your hands settle beside you, gripping the chair so hard it creaks, legs spread wide instinctually, making room for him despite his distance, your dress slipping far enough down your chest that your breasts were on display.

Soft peaks, nipples hardened in the cool air, your chest rising with slow breaths as you arch yourself forward slightly, his hand keeping a slow, teasing pace as his thumb drags over the thick head and against the slit.

Your eyes flicker between Joel’s face and his tight grip around his cock, watching as he strokes himself with slow intent, belt jingling with the movement as he pushes his shirt up with the other hand, his own eyes trading between different parts of your body.

He’d suckle at your skin if he could, trail his tongue from mouth to cunt, have you a shaking, sobbing mess if he allowed himself the luxury, but he was a man wallowing in his own self-made torture and the energy in the air was palpable, thick with tension.

“Closer,” He groans out lowly, nodding his head in a jerky motion as his free hand beckons you near, “Spread your legs, sweetheart—lemme see you.”

You give him far more than he asks, standing slowly before you’re hooking your fingers in the fabric at your hips and pulling down, letting the damp fabric drop to your feet before you’re leaning down to pick it up, tossing your panties into Joel’s lap before you return to your seat.

One foot propped against the chair, your dress bunches at your hips, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt as you spread your fingers through your folds, a teasing touch.

Blindly, Joel grabs at the fabric and wraps it around his cock, like a vice, he squeezes tight.

Joel's eyes darken, pupils dilating as he takes in the sight before him. His grip tightens around your panties, the damp fabric adding a new, chest-tightening sensation as he strokes himself harder. A low groan escapes his lips, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they tease through your slick folds.

“You too scared to fuck a college girl?” You tease him, “‘Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Smart ass mouth, girl,” He gripes, “S’like your daddy never taught you any manners.”

“Oh, ‘cause I’m sure you could’ve,” You reply flippantly, gasping as your finger catches along your fluttering hole, a groan rumbling deep in Joel’s chest as he jerks his cock.

“I ain’t your daddy,” He reminds you.

You shake your head nonchalantly, “No you’re not. Could–could be, though. “What do you want? For me to pout and call you daddy?”

“Careful,” he warns, his voice rough with desire, “That’s a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You hum at the words, a faint flutter in your chest.

If you stopped to think about what was happening you would psych yourself out completely, so you lean back further, arching yourself forward as you slide two fingers inside yourself. "I don’t mind playing," you moan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before locking back onto Joel’s.

Joel's breath catches in his throat, his hand faltering for a moment as he watches you sink your fingers deeper into your wet cunt, the soft squelch paired with your innocent sounds.

He scowls as he squeezes his shaft, “Christ, girl,” He grunts, “Tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?”

You shake your head impishly, “Temptin’ you,” You admit, “Is it working?”

“You know damn well,” Joel says tensely, forcing the words through his teeth as his fingers slide up and squeeze at the head of his cock, precum slick against his fingers as he uses it to add to the friction, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body, “fuckin’ look at you, so goddamn eager.”

“That right, daddy?” You ask breathily, giggling with the word as Joel looks like he could explode, his other hand cupping his balls to keep him busy, knowing if he lingered with his thoughts for too long he’d fuck you into the chair without an ire of hesitation, his eyes close as his head leans back.

“Is that what you need? Someone carin’ for you?” He asks, “Is that why you’re actin’ out?”

The way his hand moves against his cock is mesmerizing, the flex of his wrist as he jerks his cock in a practiced manner, something he undoubtedly does weekly, squeezing his sack gently in his hand as his chest rumbles quietly.

“Eyes up, sweetheart,” He chastises, “I’m askin’ you a question, answer it.”

You nod weakly, a frown forming on your face as you whimper, the softest graze of your fingertip over your clit as your body spasms, gasping at the feeling.

“Words, ‘hon,” He encourages, his own voice wavering slightly.

“Y—yes,” You answer quickly.

Joel chuckles deeply, “S’good. Good girl, sweetheart. You wanna spread those legs for daddy then?” 

Obediently, they do, presenting your glistening cunt to him as you fingers slip out, wet with slick and Joel licks at his bottom lip, mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” He murmurs endearingly, a slight smirk stretching across his face at the sight, “—won’t even touch you and you’re mess, been like that since you got in my car, huh?”

You nod weakly, sighing as your fingers circle lazily over your clit.

“Taste ‘em,” He encourages, “clean ‘em up.”

Your fingers, he means.

Like some magnetic pull, you find your fingers pressing against your tongue without thinking and the tangy sweetness melts against your tongue, his breath shuddering as you licked your fingers clean, cunt pulsing with need, silently pleading for Joel.

His eyes narrow, darkening with lust as his hand speeds up around his cock, obscene sounds matching his heady words, neck straining as he grunts, “That’s it, sweetheart. Listenin’ to your daddy—M’fuck—fuckin’ close.”

Through your bleary haze, you nod with the same sentiment, speaking softly, “Metoometoo—”

His movements are more fumbling, quick and furious jerks of his cock that still at the head as he squeezes, his face scrunching up in a mix of frustration and desperation, trying harder than he’s ever had to not shoot his load too soon.

“Yeah? Show me,” He encourages, goading as his unoccupied hand twists into his shirt and hastily pulls it up and over his head, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

They spread impossibly wider, your hand reaching behind your head to grip onto the chair as your ass slips near the edge, circling your fingers over your clit without much precision, knowing that one more word from his mouth and you’d be drooling all over the seat.

“So fuckin’ desperate, look at you,” He demeans, “Poor little girl with daddy issues, huh?”

You moan shakily, avoidant of his obviously goading question, eyes fluttering closed as your orgasm crept in slow, mumbling out the words without even thinking, “Please—please can I—daddy, can I—”

“S’alright, we’ll fix that,” Joel comments softly, his voice a low growl, “Go on, sweetheart, come for me.”

The feeling is instant, his permission all you need to melt over the edge, legs shaking through the mind-numbing sensation your climax brings, chest tightening as you gasp, fingers working frantically over your clit as Joel’s name slips from your mouth.

Distantly, you hear him groan, his orgasm overtaking him at the sight of you writhing in your chair, spilling over his tight fist as thick, milky ropes of cum spread across his chest and down the underside of his cock, his eyes falling shut. 

As your breathing slows, your thighs pull together, shrinking impossibly small into the chair in a sudden overwhelming feeling of shame. Shame that you had shared an intimate moment like this with a man you barely knew all because you had a terrible night and shame over how easily he had made you come, like it was natural.

Despite the obvious, Joel doesn’t miss a beat.

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face and he beckons you forward. Finally.

“On your knees, sweetheart,” He instructs as your body moves without much protest, sliding to the floor as your dress pools at your hips, not amiss to the way Joel’s eyes follow the subtle bounce of your breasts as you move between his spread legs, his erection flagging but your tongue peeks out eagerly, licking at the head of his cock as your hands curls around his calves for support, “S’not—hey,” He hisses, “you were listenin’ so good until now.”

He’s salty and sweet, a taste so inviting that you needed more. It made your mouth water, tongue swiping against your bottom lip as your eyes fell on the opaque liquid covering his stomach.

Unfortunately, he still wouldn’t touch you.

He runs a hand through his hair while the other rests against the table, balled into a fist as you shake your head shyly, removing your hands from his legs.

“Sor—sorry,” You stutter, uncertainty evident in your voice.

Joel’s eyebrows raise, an unspoken bond quickly forming between you both.

“Try again.

“M’sorry, daddy—what can—,” You gulp audibly, fidgeting nervously with the silk fabric at your waist, “how can I make it up to you?”

Joel glances down at his stomach, still covered in cum as he breathes, watching the liquid drop down his skin and to his softening cock, still intimidatingly large even as it rests against his thigh, “Why don’t you clean me up? Can you do that?”

You nod eagerly, darting forward immediately as your tongue glided along his skin, into the small patch of hair above his groin and to his belly button, hearing Joel groan as the chair creaks with his shifting weight, struggling against his own forced restraint as you lick the cooled cum off his skin, eyes flicking up to look at him, dangerously innocent.

A facade, he knows. But, he’s in fucking trouble.

“That’s it,” Joel coos, “Clean me up good, baby.”

You giggle softly, dragging the tip of your tongue along the last bit of his cum before you drag up the center, barely reaching his face before you pull away, a soft huff of breath hitting you in the face as Joel shakes his head and chuckles, looking away from you briefly.

“Still not gonna touch me?” You tease him, quietly pulling your dress back up your body and over your shoulders, fingers adjusting the strap as he turns back to look at you.

“I’m tryin’ to be respectful here, sweetheart. And you’re makin’ it damn near impossible.”

Your brow furrows in a mix of confusion and amusement, “Respectful? You call that respectful, Joel? Oh—” You clear your throat and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, batting your lashes, “M’sorry, I mean, daddy.”

“Careful,” Joel warns, “You still have an hour in the car with me in the morning.”

You nod, slowly rising to your feet as you adjust your dress down your body, smoothing it out over your curves as your hands rest naturally behind your back, loosely as they curl together.

“Mmm, no,” You retort, a playful glint in your eyes, “I think you should be worried about me.”

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He mocks, hardly believing your faux confidence against him.

“Or, you could just let me drive?” You attempt playfully, a full belly chuckle erupting from Joel.

“I mean,” Joel shrugs, his voice trailing.

Breaking his rule for a moment, the hand ruffling through his hair trails toward your thigh, curling around the bare skin for a brief moment, sliding up until his fingers grazed against the curve of your ass and your bare pussy underneath, your panties resting near his fist on the table, a keepsake.

“Gotta reward my good girl, don’t I?”

[seumyo]

yearning drunk!husband ushijima wakatoshi.

NOTE. contains a bit of alcohol content—though nothing too explicit or anything concerning <33

It always started the same way—kind of like an inside joke that grew wings, feathers, a tab, and Ushijima’s name on the reservation list.

Ushijima never initiated going out drinking with his Schweiden Adlers teammates. In fact, he rarely said anything about it at all. It was always someone else who mentioned it after a game. Always someone else who slung an arm over his shoulder and declared, “C’mon, Ushiwaka, we have to celebrate,” even though Ushijima had never once expressed interest in alcohol, bar food, or drunken conversations.

Still, he always went.

Because it’d be rude if he didn’t at least stay for a few minutes, he thinks.

Sometimes he showed up in his team windbreaker, sometimes in a long, dark gray coat that made him look like a trench-wearing monument of silence. And he never said no, even when the clamor of celebration was already grating at the edges of his patience.

Tonight was one of those nights.

They’d won by the skin of their teeth—an overtime set against a grueling opponent, the kind of match that made even the benchwarmers feel like champions by the end. So of course Heiwajima had started the round-up in the locker room. Hoshiumi had shouted over everyone about their lucky bar down the street, and within twenty minutes, the entire team had found themselves in their regular private suite.

Ushijima sat at the end of the table, his back straight, a glass in front of him filled with alcohol he didn’t particularly like. His teammates were loud and loose and chaotic—laughing at Sokolov trying to arm-wrestle the bar’s bouncer, clapping every time someone dropped a fork, and yelling across the table in at least three different languages.

“A thousand yen says he’ll ask about his wife in twenty minutes,” Hoshiumi said quietly, leaning toward their captain, Hirugami Fukurou.

“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Romero replied, fondly grinning. “He gets wistful around minute twelve.”

“He gets wistful the moment he sits down.”

Ushijima was unmoved. He stared at his drink, took a single sip, and let it rest in his hand. He didn’t participate in the yelling, the toasts, or the story someone was animatedly telling about a missed serve from three seasons ago. He just existed—quietly, stoically—as a satellite to the chaos.

Except, of course, they all knew he was waiting.

He always was.

There was a pattern to the transformation. First, he’d sit there like stone. Then he’d blink a little more slowly. His brows would draw together—not in anger, but in vague confusion, like he was lost in a thought he couldn’t solve. His fingers would move against his glass, not to drink but to fidget, just a little.

And then…

“Has anyone seen my phone?” Ushijima asked, barely louder than the buzz of conversation.

Hoshiumi slid it across the table immediately. “Right here, Ushiwaka. Sorry! We took a few pictures here and there.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at the screen. It was still lit with the last message from you from earlier that day: Good luck, baby. Don’t forget to stretch your left shoulder. He’d never replied—he never did, not when he was already in headspace—but now, he stared at it like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“You want to text her?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly teasing, which Ushijima didn’t catch onto.

Ushijima didn’t answer. He opened the thread and typed a few letters. Deleted them. Typed something else. Backspaced. Then just stared.

And then finally: “She hasn’t replied.”

His teammates laughed.

“There it is!”

“It’s only been seventeen minutes! I win!”

“No, you cheated. I said ten, and he didn’t even check his phone until minute twelve!”

“Shh, shh, look at him—he’s pouting.”

“Wait, is this the pout phase? I thought that came after the silent brooding phase.”

“Technically we’re entering pout-brood overlap. It’s a dangerous time.”

Ushijima didn’t argue. He simply set the phone down again and folded his hands in front of him. Kageyama leaned over.

“You want me to call her for you, Ushijima-san?”

Ah, yes. Kageyama was too nice for his own good. Trying to enhance his socialization and trying to lessen his awkwardness with his teammates when the conversation didn’t revolve around volleyball.

Ushijima nodded. Just once. Immediately. “Yes.”

...

“Amazing! He’s not even trying to hide it.”

“Can you imagine being that in love?”

“He just wants his wife. Look at him. He’s a whole sad poem in one sitting.”

“She’s gonna get here, and he’s gonna light up like a lantern.”

“May this love run me over.”

Kageyama stood and walked a few paces away from the table, already dialing your number. Meanwhile, the others watched Ushijima sip his drink again—not because he wanted it, but because it gave his hands something to do. His eyes were glued to the screen even though no new notifications had appeared.

Romero leaned in conspiratorially to Hirugami. “Do you think she talks to him in, like, soft tones? Calls him ‘baby’ and stuff?”

“I think so,” he shrugs. “I think they’re sweet like that.”

“Aw, young love.”

The teasing continued, but it softened. Because underneath the jokes and the laughs was a sort of awe.

Their teammate—so serious, so focused, so unreadable on court—was completely and utterly soft when it came to his wife. Not in a loud way. Not in any way that could be easily teased, really. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.

When Kageyama returned, he had a pleased expression. “She’s on her way. Said she just got off work and is driving over.”

Ushijima gave another slow blink.

“Thank you.”

Kageyama nods. Somehow they manage to have conversations even if they just continue nodding to each other.

As soon as Kageyama said it, his phone buzzed with a new message. He didn’t even need to open it. He could tell by the way his entire body relaxed by a single, barely noticeable degree.

Sorry, hun. Just got off work. Are you okay?

He replied.

I’m okay. I miss you.

And then he set the phone down and folded his hands again, this time with more calm. More certainty. You were coming. That was all he needed to know.

The others noticed the shift immediately.

“He smiled.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did! Don’t argue with me; I saw it. It was micro. But it counted.”

“He’s already halfway out the door with his heart.”

“Watch, the second she walks through that door, he’ll go full puppy mode.”

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the door opened. A gust of cold air followed you inside, along with the soft jingle of the bar’s entrance bell. You spotted them easily—your eyes landing on Ushijima before anything else. And his entire body seemed to change shape.

He stood up—not quickly, but instantly, with a kind of gravity no one else in the room had.

You smiled as you approached, slipping out of your coat and brushing off the cold that nipped your nose softly. “Hi, love,” you greeted softly. “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Ushijima said, already reaching for his jacket.

As he shrugged it on, you turned to the table. “Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”

Hoshiumi leaned on the table with a grin. “[Name], your husband is the definition of ‘not trouble.’ We’re just grateful you came to collect him before he sighed himself into the carpet.”

“Tell them what he said!” someone shouted.

“He asked if anyone had seen his phone like it was a national emergency.”

“And he didn’t pout—he brooded. Like a man out of a romantic novel.”

“I think I did,” Ushijima just nodded at their comments about him.

He then stood by quietly, waiting for you to finish your goodbyes. When you looped your arm through his, he leaned ever so slightly toward you.

As they left, Romero raised his glass.

“To [Name]’s husband,” he declared. The table cheered.

Outside, as you two walked toward the car, you glanced up at him, fingers tightening around his arm.

“You really okay?” you asked.

He hummed. Then, in that low, steady voice only you ever got to hear, it softened—

“I missed you,” he said again. “They were loud. I wanted to see you very much.”

You smiled and gave his arm a firm, loving squeeze. “Well. I’m here now.”

And... yeah.

That’s what he’s been wanting to hear all night.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[sylussys]

GUYS HEAR ME OUT hunger games au with caleb except it all goes downhill from the moment you get reaped for the games

this is such a random post help no because peeta in mockingjay i was like this is so caleb with ever ehhehddh here are just some thoughts :)

caleb, who has to be stopped from volunteering to go into the games alongside you when your name is reaped. in your district, it was almost certainly a death sentence, but at that moment he thinks he would rather die by your side, than live without you.

caleb, who makes you promise him that you will make it back to him. he can’t lose you, not like this. there are too many things unspoken between you, lost to the wind as he watches the train pull away from your district.

caleb, who can’t tear his eyes from the screen for even a single moment as he watches the clock count down. underneath his breath, he’s whispering for you to run — far away from what he knows is an inevitable bloodbath. he holds the necklace you gave him close to his heart, and prays he does not see you amongst the fallen.

caleb, who continues to watch the games closely at every waking minute, utterly unmoving from his spot. it’s as if he took his eyes off you, you would die. he grieves with you, when you are forced to take the life of an ally — but a part of him is relieved, you’re one person closer to victory.

but the path to victory is no easy road. you’re down to the final four — but you’re no extraordinary person, only having made it this far out of sheer luck, and you know you cannot beat any of the remaining three tributes in a fight. caleb thinks, you’re going to need a miracle.

you have only your brains to work with — so you pull a stunt. you take the gamble, and luck just happened to be on your side. you’ve definitely pissed off the capitol though, made them look like fools on live television. they had always craved a bloodied showdown, to showcase the true animalistic nature of the districts. but in that moment you didn’t care, except that you would be going home.

caleb, who finally lets go of the breath he had been holding, when they announce you the victor of the hunger games.

caleb, who is the first person to greet you the moment you step off the train back in your district. there’s no words left that needed to be spoken — you had kissed him right then and there. because everything you had done, was to get back to him.

but you are not able to celebrate for long. the fires of rebellion have been on the rise for the past years, and you’ve all but fanned the flames in your defiant little stunt.

caleb, whose very life is threatened, when the president pays you a visit — to fix what you have started. for the sake of the nation, and all the lives you value. you would not be quick to forget who truly holds all the power in this world.

caleb, who suggests running away with you. somewhere safe, where not a single soul could touch you. he paints a picture of a life found in fairytales and you can only laugh hopelessly — for such a place does not exist in this world. nowhere is safe from the capitol’s grasp, and you would forever have a target upon your back.

because when war descends, you stand with everything to lose. you are yet a lucky survivor again, in the bombed remains of your district, but it is only the beginning of the atrocities the capitol will commit — to destroy you, and everyone else among this rebellion.

they take caleb, pull his dying body from the wreckage before you can, leaving you with nothing but the necklace you had given to him all those years ago. and they’ll kill him over and over, until all you have left is only a memory of him.

you see his face on the grainy television screen back at the base, amongst the war propaganda spread by the capitol. you want to be relieved that he’s alive, but something’s changed. the eyes that stare at you through the screen are so empty, like an abyss that threatens to swallow you whole.

but caleb, who despite everything, holds out for you. his torturers continue to chip away at what remains of his memory and sanity — he’s long forgotten his own birthday, the feeling of the sun against his skin, but he hasn’t forgotten you. not ever. they wouldn’t take you from him again. he makes you his sole fixation.

caleb, who is finally rescued at last — except he is nothing like the caleb you once knew.

[kandlewick]

everyone awoke to malleus defeated. except for you meant to be read as platonic malleyuu but can be read as romantic.

Malleus could hardly breathe. every inhale felt like it was too small, like the air surrounding him was too thin. His lungs were empty, barren, and dry. And then he would exhale. a shaky breath. It rattled his bones and burned in his chest. As if nothing but flames raged in his insides. Before him laid a friend, a betrayed comrade, someone who put too much trust in the wrong people. You. You were asleep there, in a bed of thorns and roses, nestled deep and safe. Each petal cradled your cheek like a picture frame and you were a work of art. It all felt so clinical, so far away that Malleus could hardly tear his eyes away from your sleeping form. while constricted by vines to your familiar bed in ramshackle, no thorns pierced your skin. you knew no pain lying there. only dreams. It hardly felt real.

Malleus had made a mistake. He knew he had as soon as the blot began pouring from behind his tongue. but he couldn't stop it. the delirium. it poured out of him like a cracked glass of sand. In those fleeting moments, nothing had mattered more to him. The blot retched every single negative emotion out of his soul, bearing it for the world to bear witness to. And he was ashamed.

but you and the others had succeeded against him, saving all of your classmates and himself from the curse of eternal slumber. One by one, they all began awakening. Eyelids fluttering in the new morning sun. He awoke to the sound of laughter and cheers while he laid there on the broken floor, alone and empty and so so cold. Quietly, Malleus raised his head to thank? Curse? The Ramshackle prefect that laid beside him.

only, you remained there. asleep. too far gone and too far deep for anyone to reach out to. it was like your soul and body were separated, torn asunder. the only sign of life was your chest moving up and down from the breath that filled your lungs. At the moment, Malleus thought perhaps you were simply exhausted, with the heavy bags under your eyes and the pale complexion dusting your cheeks. Like the others, he thought that you only needed more rest. But days passed and there were still no signs of life behind those closed eyes. The teachers talked amongst themselves, unwilling or perhaps unable to offer any sort of explanation. There were talks about asking for assistance from other bodies but they were quick to be shot down. It seemed like nobody knew what to do with you. Or… your body. 

Nobody took it well.

Malleus in particular had ceased his studies, locking himself away in your room in Ramshackle. Ace and Deuce would appear on occasion, Grim in tow, but the three were quick to make themselves scarce once Malleus made it clear he was not leaving your bedside. He sat there for hours, uncaring of the passing of time as night became morning and dawn became dusk. What were mere days to a nigh immortal fae. If this was his curse, to watch the one human who befriended him and suffered for it waste away from his own folly, then so be it. Every morning, like clockwork, he sat there. Unflinching. Unmoving. Like a gargoyle. His eyes were empty and red, long dried from tears but he couldn’t drag himself away from you - he refused to even think of calling you a corpse. 

This day was like any other. He sat there beside you, his hands in his lap, the book he had foolishly planned to humor to read had been cast aside long forgotten, but for some reason the sight of you there pricked at his heart more than before. His voice came out quiet, weak from disuse, but he made an effort all the same. 

“My child of man.” he croaked, his tone heavy with shame and sadness, “I will not ask you for forgiveness.”

He took a shaky breath. Hesitantly, he reached out with a weak hand and clasped your own. The thorns around you pricked him and drew blood, but he paid no mind to it. He felt nothing. Numb. Malleus choked back tears as he pulled your hands close to his chest and against his still beating heart. He lowered his head in agony as he confessed like a convict at death’s door. “What I have done to you is unforgivable.”

He held you to him. Like if he held onto you tight enough, you wouldn’t fall even more to pieces. “You were my first true friend, my closest companion. The only one who treated me as if I was an equal…” He bit back a sob as he tried to cradle his face between his hands, desperate for your touch to once again warm his bones. But there was nothing. Only the cold. “And now I’ve lost you.”

“And not a day shall pass in the centuries that I am cursed to live will I ever forget your smile.” Then with an almost reverent touch, the prince brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. His lips stayed there, the taste of salt and skin filling his tongue, but he made no effort to move while he cried.

So far gone was he that he never noticed the batting of eyelashes, the furrowed brows, or the intake of breath. So far gone that it wasn’t until he felt your hand, tiny and weak, press against his dark hair, did he lift his head.

“Good morning, Hornton.”

[chrollogy]

SECONDS AWAY FROM INSANITY

— chrollo lucilfer x f!reader

syn: Cockwarming Chrollo, ‘nuff said.

18+ MDNI; explicit smut, porn without plot, cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampie, chrollo reads while reader cockwarms him, pet names (baby) not beta read.

word count: 2.1k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. purely self indulgent >< if you’re seeing this no you’re not .

A few seconds away from insanity, that’s what you felt right this very moment.

At this point, it almost felt like an unspoken punishment—the way pleasure continuously flowed from your core, extending all the way to the tips of your digits, resulting in an irritating tingle of what could have been.

The feeling of pure bliss engulfed your body like it always did but it was still, and unmoving, mirroring a dead lake with no wind to ripple even the tiniest waves; it was faint like a butterfly’s kiss, enough to have your heart racing with thrill yet not enough to quench an insatiable thirst given by none other than your lover.

Instead, your ears were met with three things. One, the maddening ticking of the wall clock, tick, tick, tick it went as each second passed, painfully reminding you of the amount of time wasted without raw pleasure.

Two, the vexing sound of a page turning every now, and then, a clear indication of how occupied Chrollo was with the book neatly tucked in his hand. Your legs ached with time, muscles stiff from having held this position for over an hour or so, you weren’t given much movement freedom as well with your legs on either side of Chrollo’s waist, neatly folded over itself atop the leather couch—the fabric felt like a searing blaze against your soft skin.

Three, the ghostly kisses of Chrollo’s calm breaths down the column of your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it served as a slap across the face, a nasty fact that he was, in fact, not bothered about the way your cunt clenched, and unclenched around his cock every so often. Not even a slight stutter in his breathing pattern.

Tsk. How annoying.

Chrollo promised you’d cockwarm him until the book bored him, and only then he would take action. But that was the thing, the promise was as good as empty as soon as those words came out of his mouth because Chrollo never gets bored of a novel.

You let out a huff of annoyance—an obvious one at that—adjusting your clothed body with the little freedom from the position, resulting in a low squelch from where you, and Chrollo connected, followed by a small mewl that slipped past your lips. The feel of his tip gently grazing your sweet spot ignited the dormant pleasure in your body, like a surge of electricity bringing you back from the dead but it left as quickly as it happened.

And then . . nothing, again.

Leaning your chest against his own, you rested your chin on his shoulder, digits digging onto the fabric of his shirt as the feeling slowly dissipated into thin air. Though, this elicited a humourless chuckle from Chrollo, paired with a free hand coming up to soothingly rub your back, up, and down, up, and down his hand went—oh, but you’d rather move something else up, and down right this very moment.

Five minutes.

It took Chrollo Lucilfer exactly five more minutes to finally put that goddamn book aside after placing a chaste kiss on your hair. He leaned back into the sofa, the leather fabric groaning beneath his weight; one hand rested on your hip while the other cupped your left cheek.

“You’re doing so well for me, hm?” Chrollo’s velvety voice broke the deafening silence. He caressed your face with his thumb, and you didn’t hesitate to lean into the heart of his palm like a feline yearning to be petted. 

“Chrollo . .” “It’s okay. You have me, now.”

He sucked in a breath. Chrollo was never immune to your begging, especially when you looked like that—forehead creased, the corners of your lips downturned in a small pout, and your eyes glimmering with pure want. With a bated breath, you awaited his next move, patiently perched on his lap with his cock fully sheathed inside.

Steely eyes traced over your features before settling for your lips. Chrollo brought his thumb to your bottom lip, following its curvature, and gently pulling it down before capturing you in a kiss.

As always, it was sensual. Soft lips delicately moved against your own, a slow pace to relish the sweet taste of you. That’s what you loved about Chrollo, no matter how desperately he yearned for you, complete control over his carnal desires were his top priority—even if impatience gnawed at his very bones, and your body was the only way to quench such thirsts, he’d still handle you like the most delicate flower of all.

As if on cue, you rocked your hips back, and forth—a sinful rhythm to elicit a deep groan from his chest. Soft, wet smacks of yours, and Chrollo’s lips filled your ears, low moans here, and there ignited your dormant desire once more but this time, there was no stopping.

Chrollo’s big hands roamed your body—from tenderly massaging your chest over the fabric of your top, all the way to sensually rubbing his palms up, and down your back.

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, crimson-faced, chest heaving, and the sexiest lustful expression plastered on his handsome face. One hand rested on your waist while the other hung over the backrest as he leaned further into the sofa. All it took was for Chrollo to give you a singular look before you finally lifted your hips.

Your leg muscles screamed, and burned at the movement, having held onto this folded position for quite some time but you didn’t care, not when the opportunity to chase after pleasure was served on a silver platter. A unison of drawn out moans filled the air as your hips moved up, and down his hard cock—lifting yourself all the way until the tip remained before languidly lowering all the way to the base with balls flush against your ass.

The raven-haired man beneath you slowly threw his head back at the feeling of your velvety walls—the way it wrapped around him oh-so-sinfully—exposing the length of his neck, Adam’s apple on full display as it bobbed with every low groan Chrollo let out. You felt so warm, so soft, and the way your sopping cunt greedily sucked him in every single time without fail—oh, you’d be the death of him.

It didn’t take long for Chrollo to look at you once again. With a hooded gaze, he stared through his lashes, drinking in each bounce of your sinful hips. He bit his lip, the hand planted on your waist groped you through the fabric of your top before deftly sliding it under to tease your breasts. Swiftly yanking down your bra, Chrollo’s digits focused on your hardened nipple by gently rolling, and pinching it, eliciting a breathy moan of his name.

It was as though the tips of his fingers had sent a wave of electricity throughout your body from the way you flinched at his teasing touch. A string of low, colourful curses left Chrollo’s rosy lips as you clenched around his cock, resulting in him involuntarily thrusting up to meet the fall of your hips, prodding the tip deeper into your wet cunt.

“Fuck—Chrollo!” Every muscle in your body stiffened as a shock of pleasure shot up your spine. Warmth slowly crept up from your chest, all the way to your cheeks, and behind your eyes where tears slowly started to form.

Another eager thrust of Chrollo’s hips had you curling over yourself, shamelessly moaning his name out yet again as the tip kissed that sweet, sweet spot. It had your eyes rolling back, face met with the fabric of his clothes as your sweaty forehead rested on his chest. Chrollo’s intoxicating perfume laced you into insanity, its sweet yet musky aroma beckoned you to follow a sweet release.

With the burn of your legs finally catching up to you, your body laid limp against Chrollo, the eager bounce of your hips coming to a complete halt, and so did the rising pleasure—all that hard work of yours slowly but surely coming down, down, down back to square one.

“Bounce your hips for me, baby? You were doing so well.” Chrollo breathlessly purred, hand coming up to comb through your hair as he placed a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. A small smile formed as he felt your cunt clench around him—Chrollo knew how to push your buttons, he knew which words you wanted to hear during times like this but that didn’t mean they weren’t insincere. 

Despite your muscles practically giving up, you peeled yourself from Chrollo’s chest, and resumed the hasty pace you had set earlier. The searing blaze in your legs was quickly forgotten as Chrollo resumed thrusting his hips up in time with your own, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. A sinful symphony of skin met with skin filled the room once again but this time, with more drive, with much more desperation from both of you.

You could tell Chrollo was slowly losing his cool from the way his lips remained parted to let out heated gasps with some in the form of your name—his lust-filled stare, and ruby red cheeks were also a clear sign of the lack of grip on his own sanity, not to mention how both hands were now firmly planted on your hips, determined to bring you both to an orgasm.

His name left your lips like a whispered prayer, allowing him to bask in your dulcet voice; Chrollo let it wrap around his body, and pull him into the depths of your serene rawness. And that was all it took for him to set the soles of his feet flat on the ground, using the wooden floor as leverage to rapidly thrust his hips upwards. Your own movement ceased beneath Chrollo’s iron grip, instead, he was the one that led this intimate dance.

Heavy balls slapped against your ass with each relentless thrust, it left a sweet burning sensation, adding on top of the immense pleasure you were currently under. All you could do was sit there, and take every ounce of ecstasy Chrollo generously gave you—sit there, and curl your digits around the expensive fabric of his ivory button down until your knuckles turned the same colour.

Once again, you curled over as the feeling of pure bliss rendered your whole body immobile—the merciless drive of his hips bringing out a fresh set of tears every time. 

The poor sofa groaned, and moaned beneath the weight of Chrollo’s thrusts; it was laughable how he was the exact opposite earlier, completely unbothered by the tightness of your cunt—at how it practically drooled for his cock—nose buried into that goddamn novel, absolutely unfazed. Now, Chrollo was the one tirelessly chasing an orgasm, using your wet cunt as he pleased.

His steely eyes dipped to where you two met, a broken curse leaving his lips at the lewd sight of a translucent white ring forming at the base of his hard cock. It didn’t help how your cunt equally sounded as lewd as it looked, shamelessly squelching with each movement. 

Fuck, he was close—Chrollo could already feel his balls tightening, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m so close—fuck! Cum with me, yeah?” He panted. A wanton moan, and a vigorous nod was all you could muster in response but Chrollo didn’t need anything more than that to bring you to your orgasm.

With a few more deep strokes, the coil inside your stomach violently snapped, sending your back in an uncomfortable arch as your cunt gushed around his cock. You let out a broken moan of his name, hot tears rolling down your wet cheeks but Chrollo didn’t stop there, not until his own high came to him.

Though, he wasn’t far off with the way your cunt gripped him like a vice. Chrollo sheathed his cock all the way inside before releasing his thick cum to paint your walls white; a loud, shameless moan slipped past his lips, handsome face contorted in pure bliss as waves of pleasure violently rocked his limp body.

“Kiss me.” Chrollo breathed out before desperately cupping your jaw with both hands, and pulling you closer to seal your lips together; you groaned into the kiss as he rode out both your orgasms with shallow thrusts.

This time, the kiss was more passionate, a blazing blue fire from the depths of his heart. He angled his face to further press into you, lips moving with such haste you almost couldn’t keep up. Chrollo devoured your lips like a starved madman—it was messy, filthy, and loud but you loved every second of it. —

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum & @pixelcafe-network !

[parkerslatte]

Wasted Time

Dae-ho x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: gunshots. blood. ptsd.

Summary: As the the players fight back against the guards, Y/N notices Dae-ho cowering and covering his ears. She does her best to protect him.

Squid Game Masterlist

The room was silent as the guards stormed in, just as Gi-hun said they would. Y/N laid underneath a bed on her own. Directly in front of her, Dae-ho laid on the floor next to Jung-bae, eyes closed, breathing shallow. Despite the fact that she knew he was only acting, a twinge of sadness rippled through Y/N as she looked at Dae-ho’s unmoving body. After all, if Gi-hun wasn’t with them to warn them, this might have been reality. 

If anyone had told Y/N a week ago that she would be playing children’s games while fighting for her life, she would have just laughed. If anyone had told her that her best friend would be by her side as she fought for her life, she would have laughed even harder. 

Y/N had entered the game with Dae-ho, originally proudly wearing her number, 387, now she wanted nothing more than to rip it off and burn it. When they were both approached to play a silly game with the recruiter, they both jumped at the chance. Playing a few silly games for the chance to win money was the easiest decision the pair had made. Now they have seen how wrong they were. 

Once the guards burst into the room breaking up fighting, Y/N slowly closed her eyes as people fell back into the corners of the room. Bodies were scattered across the floor, some dead, others only pretending to be. The scene was already brutal itself and when Y/N glanced over at the ‘O’ side of the room and saw the blood staining their clothes and splatters on their face, it only amplified the brutality of these games. Y/N had watched helplessly as others were murdered right before her eyes. But she knew that if she stepped out from under the bed, she would most likely be lying dead on the floor. 

Just as the guards bent down to Dae-ho to pronounce him an eliminated player, he quickly shot up, grabbing the gun out of the waistband of the guard, sending a fast shot at him. Jung-bae followed suit, taking the large gun from the now dead guard. Y/N shrunk from her place under the bed. More and more gunshots sounded out as she looked around. Many others were still hiding under the beds.

Y/N’s gaze shifted to where Dae-ho was only to find him flinching away from the gunfire, the gun he had shot the guard with discarded by his side as he covered his ears. Her heart twisted at his scared expression. Despite his best at putting on a brave facade, she had always been able to see through it. 

Before she allowed herself to consider her next actions carefully, Y/N crawled out from her hiding place, carefully avoiding flying bullets. Luckily she didn’t need to go too far to reach her friend and the moment her hand touched him, Dae-ho’s body seemed to relax slightly, already knowing that it was her touch. Y/N shuffled along the floor and wrapped her arms around him, essentially shielding his body with hers. Dae-ho shakily held onto her as he looked at her. 

“What are you doing?” He shouted over the gunfire. “Go back and hide.”

“No,” Y/N said firmly. “I need to make sure that you are okay.”

The fear within Y/N was racing through her veins. The fear of the flying bullets and the situation she had found herself in and the fear of losing Dae-ho. He shook in her arms and Y/N only held him tighter. 

“You’re okay,” Y/N muttered, though she was mainly trying to reassure herself. 

Dae-ho’s breathing was ragged as the gunfire gradually began to die down as the guards retreated, leaving only one in the room. Slowly, Y/N released her grip and Dae-ho looked up at her. 

“Why would you do that?” Dae-ho asked. 

“Because you are my friend and I love you,” Y/N whispered. 

The words that tumbled out were true but felt strange on Y/N’s tongue. Those three words were three she had never considered saying to Dae-ho before they entered the games. They weren’t only reserved for a lover but the way in which they left Y/N’s lips had nothing but romantic undertones. Deep down she knew that her feelings had always been there but it had never been the right time to voice them. She would argue that a place where you could die playing children’s games wasn’t the best place either but when either of them could die at any point, it was the best time to bring it up.

A long sigh left Dae-ho’s lips before he slowly sat up, his eyes never once leaving Y/N. The intensity in his gaze made everything else fade away. It was as if just by simply looking into his eyes had made everything else fade away. 

Dae-ho genty held onto Y/N’s hands as his eyes turned serious. “Y/N–”

“Collect the guns!” 

Dae-ho’s head snapped and found the others grouping at the front. Dae-ho caught Jung-bae’s eye and he shakily stood to his feet. Y/N still held onto his hands as they rose from the floor, her grip only tightening. She didn’t want to let him go, not now. 

Before he could walk to join the others at the front, Y/N clutched his arm. “You don’t need to go.”

Dae-ho caressed her hand in his. “I’ll be okay.”

“Dae-ho,” Y/N began, “I saw how you were just now. Your hands are still shaking. I don’t want you to freeze up out there. There were limited guards in here, what happens if you go out there and you are completely outnumbered! If this is some way to prove yourself to the others–”

“I want to protect you!” Dae-ho exclaimed, cutting her off. “I want to get us out of here, I don't care what I need to do.”

“Dae-ho, the only thing I want is you to be safe. If you died I don’t know how I could live with myself knowing that you died and I lived,” Y/N said.

“I need to help, Y/N,” Dae-ho said, clutching both of her hands in his. “I can’t let anyone down. I can’t let you down.”

Y/N leaned forward and rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. “I know that once you set your mind to something, you always follow through so there is no way to talk you out of this. But you better come back or I will kill you myself.”

A breathless laugh slipped past Dae-ho’s lips. His response wasn’t verbal as he inched forward and all Y/N felt after that was his soft lips against hers. Her body immediately melted into his as she wrapped her arms around him. For years, Y/N had only been able to imagine what it would feel like if she kissed Dae-ho and her expectations were shot out of the water. His hold on her was gentle, as if he were afraid that she would break in his hands if he held her any tighter. The kiss almost made her forget where she was. Almost.

“Dae-ho,” Jung-bae said, catching the attention of the two and cutting their kiss short. 

Dae-ho pulled away first, his eyebrows furrowed. “I love you too, Y/N. When we get out of here, I will finally take you on a date. I've been meaning to ask you for years.”

Despite their circumstances, Y/N smiled. “Where will you take me?”

“Wherever you want,” Dae-ho replied, his hand caressing her face as if tracing her features to burn them into his memory. 

“It’s a date then, Dae-ho,” Y/N said.

With a parting nod, Dae-ho left her to stand at the front with the others. Y/N slowly sat down atop one of the beds with the others staying behind. She watched as Hyun-ju explained how to use the guns to the group before they all left the room. Before he stepped through the threshold, Dae-ho glanced back at Y/N. Y/N offered him a reassuring smile, the only things he really could do. Once he was out of sight, Y/N let out a shaky breath. 

“He’ll be okay,” Geum-ja said, sitting down next to her. 

“I hope so,” Y/N replied, not peeling her eyes away from where he disappeared. 

“I couldn’t help but notice the kiss the two of you shared,” Geum-ja said. “Did you come here together?”

Finally Y/N tore her eyes away from the door. “We did. We’ve been friends for years.”

Geum-ja smiled. “That looked like it was more than friendship.”

Y/N’s lips tugged as she fought a smile. “That is only a very recent development.”

Geum-ja gently took Y/N’s hand in hers. “When we get out of here, you two should come to mine for dinner. Hyun-ju is coming. At this rate, I’ll be inviting everyone.”

“That would be nice,” Y/N said. “It’s nice to have something to look forward to after we get out of here.”

Geum-ja nodded before the two fell into silence. Y/N’s mind was still racing despite the small reprieve Geum-ja provided. Dae-ho was still out there and her biggest fear was hearing his number be called through the speakers. Y/N was sure that if he died within these walls, her will to survive would fail. There was nothing for her on the outside. She had no parents. She was stuck in a part time job she hated. She was up to her neck in debt. 

The only saving grace though it all was Kang Dae-ho. If she lost him, Y/N would feel that part of her would have died with him. Even in some of the darkest of times, he had managed to keep an easy smile on his face. Even in the damned games, he had managed to make her laugh on several occasions as if she wasn’t one step away from being killed.

A shaky breath slipped past Y/N’s lips as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to think about all of the happier times she had spent with Dae-ho. It was difficult as she was completely aware of the gunshots echoing through whatever building they were in. There were many things Y/N regretted in her life but the one at the top of the list was ringing that stupid number. She hated thinking back thinking of the smiles on her and Dae-ho’s faces the moment they put down the phone thinking about how they were about to play some silly games to win some money. Y/N should have known that it was too good to be true. 

There was movement from where the others had disappeared and Y/N’s head shot up just as Dae-ho ran into the room panicked, muttering under his breath. Blood splatters decorated his left cheek, slightly smeared across his face. Immediately she was on her feet. 

“Dae-ho,” Y/N said, stepping towards him. 

It was as if Dae-ho hadn’t processed her as he began to rummage through the dead guards pockets. He muttered to himself as he pulled out magazines and held onto them so tight that his knuckles were white. 

“Dae-ho,” Y/N said once more and his attention finally snapped to her. 

His eyes were petrified and Y/N could already tell that he wasn’t fully present. “The guards have extra ammo in their pockets.”

“You heard him,” Y/N said to the others in the room. “Get the ammunition.”

There was shuffling behind Y/N as everyone compiled but her attention was focused on Dae-ho. His hands shook as he held tightly onto the gun. 

“What happened?” she asked gently. 

“I need to take the ammunition back. We have none left,” Dae-ho said. “I need the ammunition.”

“We are collecting the ammunition,” Y/N said. “Dae-ho, what happened?”

“I–” he began but cut himself off as the ammunition was handed to him wrapped in a players jacket. 

Dae-ho spared one final look at Y/N before he quickly walked to the wide open door and stepped through the threshold. Though he didn’t take another step forward as he suddenly stilled, whole body shaking. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as she was washed over in concern. 

“Dae-ho?” Y/N mumbled as she walked towards the door. 

Suddenly, the walkie talkie he was holding dropped to the floor as Dae-ho stumbled back and quickly ran back into the room, his breathing heavy. 

Y/N shared a look with Yong-sik before she rushed to where Dae-ho had hidden himself amongst the beds. As she approached him, her heart fell as she saw him slowly rocking backwards and forwards, hands over his ears as he muttered incoherently. 

“Dae-ho…?” Y/N whispered, trying to be quiet so as to not scare him even further. The feeling of all eyes on her was hard to ignore but Y/N persevered as she took another step closer to Dae-ho. “Dae-ho?” Y/N whispered once more.

His eyes shot open, full of tears. “Y/N?”

“I’m here,” Y/N said. “You’re safe here.”

“I’m sorry,” Dae-ho muttered like a broken record, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, tears of her own springing to her eyes. She had never seen Dae-ho had an attack this bad in years and the last time it had taken him hours to get to a point where he managed to speak. “I’m here.”

Slowly, Y/N held up her hand and a tear finally rolled down her cheek at the violet flinch from Dae-ho. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please let me get closer.”

The fear in his eyes was evident. Y/N didn't know what he had seen but it clearly brought back certain memories for Dae-ho. If she knew how to use the gun, she would march directly up to the front man himself and shoot him dead and she would smile. 

“Y/N..” Dae-ho muttered, his voice barely coherent. 

Y/N took another step forward, her hand still reaching out to him. The closer she got, the more Dae-ho’s body seemed to shake. He was still terrified. Y/N wasn’t even sure if he was really seeing her at all. 

Once she was close enough, Y/N engulfed Dae-ho in a hug, his head nestled against her chest. His body tensed but Y/N didn’t let go or speak until shel felt Dae-ho grip onto her jacket and relax into her. “You’re okay,” Y/N whispered into his hair. “You’re safe with me. I won’t let anything harm you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dae-ho mumbled over and over again. 

Y/N sniffed, trying her best to keep her own tears at bay. If she couldn’t keep it together, she had no clue how she was supposed to calm Dae-ho down. “Don’t apologise. Please don’t apologise.”

“When can we get out of here?” Dae-ho asked. 

“Soon,” Y/N said. “We’ll get out soon.”

Truthfully, Y/N’s hope of escaping alive with each second she spent in these games. With a lot of people who voted ‘X’ now dead, their chances of escaping were extremely slim if Gi-hun’s plan didn’t work. 

“Dae-ho!” Hyun-ju shouted, running into the room. “Where’s Dae-ho?”

“Hyun-ji,” Y/N said, announcing her presence. “Over here.”

Hyun-ju ran over to where the two were sitting, her eyes softening and filled with understanding upon seeing Dae-ho. “The magazines?”

Y/N nodded to where they were wrapped up on the bed. “What’s happening out there?”

Hyun-ju didn’t respond as a grim expression fell upon her face and that was all Y/N needed to know. Y/N instinctively held Dae-ho tighter as Hyun-ju loaded her gun.

“Y/N,” Dae-ho muttered. “If we don’t make it out of here–”

“We will make it out of here,” Y/N said firmly. “I don’t give a damn if I need to shoot every single guard until we get to the exit.”

Dae-ho lifted his head finally meeting Y/N’s eyes once more. They were still filled with fear and anxiety but he had stopped breathing heavily and seemed to be slowly coming back to himself. “I love you. I wish I had told you a lot sooner.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, caressing his face, discreetly wiping the blood away. “I wish it didn’t take me until now to admit it.”

“When we get out of here, let’s make our first date marriage,” Dae-ho said. 

“I thought our first date was my choice?” Y/N questioned. 

“I just think we have wasted enough time,” Dae-ho admitted. 

Y/N nodded tearfully. “I think we have too.”

The doors to the room opened and many guards entered. Dae-ho’s grip tightened around her waist as Y/N’s tightened around his shoulders. The guards marched in and fear instantly took a hold of Y/N. Despite her hope dwindling by the second, a small spark still remained. She and Dae-ho would get out of here alive. No matter what it took. 

[bread-toast]

pt1 pt2

thinking about…

teacher!gojo who hasn’t talked to you since he was a teenager

teacher!gojo who spends all of his time alone on missions, lesson planning, and training his students

teacher!gojo who despite his goofy demeanor is strangely repulsed whenever shoko teases and jokes about setting up a blind date for him; who only ever considered you when it came to romance

teacher!gojo who knows it would be crazy for you to give him a second chance after your high school fall-out

teacher!gojo who’s busy schedule leaves him longing for rest but can hardly get his three hours of sleep when you consume his thoughts

teacher!gojo who gives in after so many restless nights and realizes he needs to get over you

teacher!gojo who coincidentally sees you on the arm of another man on his way to his blind date and goes absolutely berserk

teacher!gojo who knows he has no right to be jealous over what could have been (it was his fault that nothing happened between you two after all!)

teacher!gojo who can no longer stand the ache in his chest when you transfer to Jujustu Tech as a new teacher and you greet him oh-so formally in the dingy break room

teacher!gojo who’s balls his fists but stays silent every time you leave work eying his figure, regret so obviously present in your eyes

teacher!gojo who finally decides to talk to you again, your constant presence overwhelming him with guilt

teacher!gojo who swore he would be collected but spills out apologies resisting voice cracks and tears when he notices your glassy eyes and quivering lips

teacher!gojo who embraces you with a longing saved over a decade of isolation

teacher!gojo who lets down his infinity for you to weep in his arms and punch his chest for being so difficult all those years ago

teacher!gojo who listens while you recall his actions between sobs

teacher!gojo who only holds you tighter, closer to him as if to never let you go again

teacher!gojo who starts visiting your classroom with snacks between breaks and making up for lost time

teacher!gojo who arrives to school early for the first time ever, standing outside Jujustu Tech’s gate waiting in the snow with a bouquet blushing like a schoolboy

teacher!gojo who knows he’s rushing it, but he just can’t wait to be yours anymore than he has!

teacher!gojo who gives his first genuine smile in years when you meet him gasping in delight at his out of the ordinary demeanor and gifts

teacher!gojo who confesses to you, the memories of years prior so bittersweet and he’s trying not to cry when he senses hesitation in your eyes

teacher!gojo who’s the happiest he’s ever been when he realizes that you, the untouchable kind amazing you has given him another chance to be yours

teacher!gojo who lets you wrap your arms around his neck dragging you into a well deserved strawberry-lollipop-flavored-kiss spinning you around in joy

teacher!gojo who’s heart drops when he notices that the bushes and trees behind you start to fade, dreading the truth he had known from the start when he sees your face get more and more blurry

teacher!gojo who only wants to deny what his six-eyes tell him for as long as he can

teacher!gojo who wakes up alone in bed, blindfold soaked in salty tears when he realizes he had dreamt of you again.

teacher!gojo who forces himself out of bed, not bothering to put on a coat as he makes his way out of his apartment

teacher!gojo who’s found the next morning by shoko, puffy eyed and unmoving by your grave

teacher!gojo who knows deep down that if he had acted sooner, confessed sooner, finished off that curse sooner, done anything sooner you might have, no, you would have still been with him happily together

teacher!gojo who knows that no matter how hard he tries, he is always too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

I hope you enjoyed! English isn’t my first language and it’s one of my first times trying writing but I really enjoyed these hcs! I wanted to give this a happy ending to satisfy everyone who read pt1, but I just couldn’t find a way to do so while writing. I want to work on a few one-shots soon, so I’ll definitely have a happy ending for gojo on a more fine tuned piece! Please let me know if you have any recommendations on improving writing and any requests for fics in the future!

[atoltia]

The Need to Indulge

You arrived with an injury again. Only this time, there's a certain snow-haired man waiting for you when you get home.

In which Sylus buys you groceries and tends to your wounds.

TW: injury, blood, some swearing Tags: hurt/comfort, danger is their love language

Sylus x fem!MC

-0-

You've grown accustomed to the pain.

Being broken over and over and over again, to heal and to mend, to spend days, weeks in the stark white of a hospital room enveloped by the all-surrounding scent of antiseptic just to get up and work the moment you were medically cleared - you were used to that life.

Eight years on the job and you've conditioned your body to suppress it, ignore it. You didn't need it, not when there were Wanderers causing harm to the people you've sworn to protect.

Even if that meant constantly coming home in the dead of night, exhausted, a dull thrum pulsing at the base of your skull as you staggered to your apartment.

Today was particularly bad.

You weren't even supposed to be involved. It was end of shift, and for once you were excited to be able to go home on time for the first time in months. Just get out the door, just get the hell out before you were pulled into another mission.

You managed to get to the train without a hitch, managed to sink into the bench without a blip. A smile tugged at your lips. Maybe tonight would be the right time to eat that tub of ice cream you got over a week ago, maybe you can even start that new show you promised Jenna that you'd watch over three months ago. Maybe you can finally get some decent fucking sleep.

But of course you weren't that lucky.

The cold wave of dread washed over you when your hunter's watch signaled, the incessant beeping heating up your blood so fast it alerted not just you but the people around you.

Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires immediate medical assistance.

You racked your brain as you hit the emergency switch on the cart you were on, the sharp wind snapping at your cloak when the window opened enough for you to leap out the moving train as you swore, leaving the Linkon City citizenry gawking. You jumped down from the track and into the busy street and bulled your way through the mass of bodies as you dove deep into your memory as to who the hell was Alpha Team B this week.

Skylar Morrison, age twenty-one. Edward Fleming, age twenty. Cormorant Kurr, age twenty. Rookies straight from the academy. Rookies that had just fucking graduated two months ago. If your memory was correct, there was no team assigned to patrol NH-Zone 7 today and tomorrow, seeing as the association was testing out the new surveillance technology that they've recently acquired.

You glanced up at the sky, ice in your veins as you watched the sunlight slowly fade. If they get stranded there while hurt the moment the light is gone, they'd be dead. If you didn't get to them soon, they'd be dead. From the fast chatter and reports from your watch, you were the closest hunter in the vicinity.

It took you a considerable amount of time to find them, even with the coordinates sent out by your watch every thirty seconds. You were already so deep into the forest that you'd know the medical unit would take a longer time to get there than those on foot. There were medical supplies on your person, as was required by protocol, but you were sure it wasn't enough for three people.

The rapid fire sound of gunshots made you quicken your pace, slowing when the tree line opened up to reveal the violence still occurring. Eyes scanned the scenario, clocking one hunter laying by a smatter of boulders. Bleeding, unmoving. One other hunter stayed by their side, one hand limp as the other barraged three winged Wanderers with bullets. The third one - Fleming, you were sure - was in close combat with another.

Shit.

You didn't have time to think, didn't have time to dwell on it. You unsheathed your sword and got to work.

-0-

It was already dark when you managed to get home.

You didn't track any blood on the floor this time, but only due to the fact that Jenna managed to drag you to the on-site medical unit and ordered your injuries to get cleaned and dressed even though you could do this your damned self once you've gone home and took a shower.

You just wanted the quiet, damn it, just to ease the ringing in your ear that stemmed from hearing your superior officer rip a new one into the three rookie hunters. You were grateful for it though, even if the kids had to take the brunt of it. You knew full well just how scathing Jenna tended to be when her hunters went out of their way to ignore association guidelines and nearly get themselves killed - as well as the fact that it gave you the window you needed to slip out and away before you got shipped to the hospital. You'll just take the hit of her wrath about ignoring protocol tomorrow, after you've passed out cold in the middle of your bed.

The door opened with the soft hum and beep of the fingerprint scanner as a sigh of relief puffed out from you chest. Finally within the confines of your home, finally within your sanctum, with the softness of your bed in reach. You'd take a shower first, of course. No matter how many times you come home half-dead and tired to the bone, cleanliness is a must.

With the shaking of your hands, the tremble of your breath, you slowly, gingerly, took your boots off. Arranged them neatly against the wall alongside your other footwear. The automatic light that you received more than a year ago was dark. Hm, you might have to replace it soon, or at least see if it's just the bulb. You were rather fond of that light, with its silly bird shape. It was something that Jenna got you as a joke for your birthday, before handing you her actual gift. Something to liven up the place, you remember her say. Neither of you expected that you would like it more than just a silly trinket -

Your hands stilled as your breath halted, your once relaxed eyes going into full alert as you reached back for the gun strapped to your thigh. The emptiness that usually met you was gone, the still air that you were accustomed to wasn't there.

This place has been your home for nearly a decade now and you knew it like the back of your hand and would be able to silently navigate it even with the absence of light. Silent as a cat, you kept your position low, legs ready to spring up, your body braced for any assault. Not a peep, not a single pin drop could be heard.

But you didn't dismiss it.

Listen to your gut, that's what you learned through years of experience, the instinct that you polished kept you alive, kept you whole. You weren't about to break that streak now.

Could it be a Wanderer? No. If it was, it would have attacked you by now. A person, then. A person stupid enough to break into the home of a highly trained hunter.

Not wanting to break the stillness, your exhaled. Focused.

When you first entered the academy, you were deemed to be someone that had to be constantly paired with another Evolver. Your evol was meant to be for support, they told you long ago. It would be most useful if you had another person with you.

But that won't do. That won't do at all. Not all hunters had the privilege of going into battle with a partner. You were not going to allow yourself to become a liability.

So you trained, thought of other ways to use your Resonance evol.

And in the darkness of your apartment, you focused your mind and exhaled. A wave, unseen by anyone but you, emerged from you. Reaching out, reaching forth into the shadows, trying to pinpoint any living creature in the room.

It pinged.

The warmth of it surprised you, the initial prickly sensation of the other person's evol slowly enveloped you with a slow, burning heat. A familiar heat that you were damned sure you've resonated with many times before.

You hissed, bracing yourself against the wall from your crouched position as you strapped the gun back in its holster.

"Sylus, what the fuck."

The low rumble from his laugh came from the living room, and even with the absence of light you could see the way his ruby eyes glinted at you with mirth.

It was an interesting display, one that he would be thinking about for a long time. Those eyes of yours that were drowning in exhaustion only moments ago was quick to fade as it flattened, emotionless and alert. The slow, practiced moves of your hands that reached for the weapon, the impressive use of your evol to sense where he was.

He knew you were competent at your job, and to see the evidence of it firsthand always gave him a burst of satisfaction.

Sylus lounged at your sofa, a glass in hand as he regarded you even in the darkness. You sighed and set your lights on ten percent, not needing the harshness of the overhead lights washing over the both of you. You continued your routine, pointedly ignoring the man as you stripped your body of the weapons you always carried and gently placed them on side table by the door just before you peeled your ripped jacket from your body to leave you just in your sleeveless tank, your hands automatically smoothing it out and hanging it on the hook as neatly as it could be.

It was odd, Sylus thought as he watched your body automatically move to keep your items in order, that he found this sort of sensual. The precision of it, the cold methodology of it - there was no deliberate sexuality to your movements, no conscious attempt to make yourself desirable in front of him. There was just a single-minded purpose in your brain right now and it was just to get it done.

It turned him on.

"You could make a show of that, kitten." There was a chuckle in his voice, making you take a glance. The warmth of the low light washed over his features like a blanket, the shadows perfectly highlighting the contours of his face.

He really is beautiful, you thought as you strode to where he sat, face impassive as you bent down, those bruised hands of yours gripping the backrest of the couch to cage him in. You didn't mind playing his games, didn't mind the teasing, the insinuations. The soft, lingering touches he sometimes used in an attempt to scramble your mind was not lost on you. The way he would slink so close to you, so much that you would be able to feel the emanating heat from his body wasn't at all unpleasant - it was nice, even.

You were so close, so close, humming when the the spice and musk of his cologne wafted through your nose. "You should have told me you were coming over," you murmured, mouth hovering over his. It pleased you to see the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly, his fingers that were comfortably resting on his lap twitching to touch, aching to feel you. "I would have made myself look more..." His eyes sharpened onto your lips, the desire evident as you moved them close, mere centimeters apart, about to do something forbidden. "...presentable."

Those large, strong arms whipped forward to grip your waist when you moved back, sharply pulling you in so you fell on his lap. "You're not getting away that easily." There was a groan in his voice, almost an octave lower, reaching, demanding, as those long fingers rubbed gentle circles on your hip.

"If I asked for a kiss," he matched your tone, the low murmuring of his voice a gentle vibration in the air around you as his eyes glinted. "Will you grant it?"

You searched his eyes, smiled. This was a dangerous game, a possibly fatal game. He was so... thrilling, so exciting. You've already sunk yourself lower into his games, played along of your own free will. If the Association knew of your connection to him, they'd have you hunted with no mercy.

But he was just so warm. And no matter how much his life differed from yours, no matter how much his past deeds was a dark smear compared to yours, you knew that he wasn't a liar. Not once, in all of the months you've... rendezvoused with him, has he ever harmed you except for the first few days of your meeting.

And was it so wrong to want someone like him? To have a man like him want you? To have his strong hands on you? To possess, to be possessed, to be coveted? It's been so long since you've been intimate with someone, been so long to have had someone want you and never in the way that he does.

He gave you moments of respite, whether it be here or in the N109 Zone. And that's what you wanted, right? You wanted time, you wanted rest, you just wanted to goddamn sleep.

You traced a finger down his cheek, rubbed under the hallow of his eye, smiled as you pushed away from him to stand.

And immediately felt the wave of exhaustion hit you.

He was behind you in a heartbeat in a shower of feathers, the energy of his evol radiating off of him in a steady thrum, that simple and pure strength of him held you up as you drifted away for a second. You blinked as your senses flooded back into you, huffed a breath when you noticed his hands gripping protectively at your waist. You smiled.

In a blink of an eye, you whirled in a speed that even he didn't account for. Even as your muscles screamed, you had your face upturned to his, the blade that was hidden in your belt nicking the skin of his neck.

He regarded you, amused, as his hands still palmed your hips. Sylus definitely understood your reputation wasn't just for show, even when he felt warm liquid drip from where your knife pointed at his throat.

"You're so gosh darn pretty," you murmured when he said nothing, your other hand carding through his snow-white hair, your other letting go of the blade, letting it fall on to the floor with a soft thud just so you could wipe the thin line of blood that dripped. He swayed you, his chest vibrating as he purred a soft tune as you tilted your face up, up, and pressed a soft kiss on the wound. "This one should do it."

You slithered away from his grasp, grinned as you ambled towards the bedroom, leaving him standing in the middle of your living room with a smirk on his face.

He watched you pitter patter around yet only the barest of sounds could be heard, and Sylus was sure it was because of his own training that he could even hear you. You were definitely interesting, quite unlike the people he's had dealings with before. And definitely more amusing that some common grunt.

Sylus strode past to follow only to stop when your phone beeped once, twice, three times, the screen lighting up to show a simple reminder: 10:00 PM Eat Food. He frowned as he picked up the phone, sighed when your calendar showed that reminder set to everyday.

He's been in your apartment for several hours already, so much so that he finished quite a bit of work and managed to get an afternoon nap while he waited for you. You stopped questioning how he got through your biometric lock, at this point you don't even care.

He did some snooping, of course he would. Sylus didn't rifle through any of your drawers nor any papers that laid in neat stacks on one of your bookshelves, but he did check the titles of your books, how you arranged your furniture, the things in your refrigerator and cupboards.

He was not at all impressed.

Multipacks of nutrition jelly and economy packs of energy bars dominated your fridge, neatly stacked at the far corner alongside bottles of water and energy drinks. There were fruit cups, at least, but still it didn't and couldn't justify the amount of artificial sustenance you were consuming for your daily intake of nutrients. Beside the fridge were bottles of vitamin supplements, one nearly empty.

It should be alright now as he ordered Luke and Kieran to get you supplies and groceries that could at the very least last you several months. Your cupboards that used to be devoid of anything but dust were now cleaned and filled with grains, rice, pasta, spices, and tinned food that cost more than half a month of your salary. Both dried and fresh fruit were now part of your inventory, as well as other non-perishables.

Eggs, bread, cured and fresh meats, vegetables - anything that you could possibly need for proper nourishment now packed your kitchen, barring any of your allergies that he was aware of. He was aware of your habits, watched you fumble through your apartment day in and day out through Mephisto's eyes and not a single day has past that he hadn't felt the need stop himself from just plucking you up from Linkon City and making you live with him instead.

With all the things he wanted to do with you at first, the amount of luxuries that he wanted to pile on top of you, right now the dominated desire that enveloped him was to make sure you were fed.

And that was a challenge already.

It wasn't that you wanted him to worry. It was just you didn't have the time. The energy you could use to cook could be used to cleaning your weapons and the sooner you could drag yourself to bed, the better.

But still, you didn't like the way he looked at you whenever you meet and you've spent another two days awake, didn't like the way he would hover when he felt like you weren't eating properly. Oh he stilled teased you, still provoked you, but beneath it all there was an underlying concern that you just didn't have the energy to push away.

The hot spray of water was a relief, as proved by the groan that left you when you felt the blood and grime wash away from your battered body. You looked down, hissed at the sight of the gash that ran from your hip to your stomach. It wasn't deep enough to be concerning, but you knew you had to get it cleaned and dressed quickly.

You washed, let the warmth of the water soak in your bones, before you stepped out and dried yourself off. As you thought, your left arm and half of your torso were already blooming with bruises. Well, you chuckled to yourself, at least your face was unscathed this time.

With a hum you put on your underwear and strode towards the medicine cabinet, listing off all the supplies you knew you would need.

"Fuck," you hissed. You ran out of bandages.

You closed your eyes, slowed your breathing as you thought of a possible solution to this. You could just go out and buy some, but the nearest convenience store didn't even sell the type of bandages that you needed. Not to mention that you could just aggravate it more and possibly get it infected.

But Sylus... Sylus was here. Maybe you could -

Hm. It was worth a shot.

You stood, firmly secured the towel over your chest as you peeked out the door, tilted your head to the side at the sight of him wearing your summer yellow apron with tiny embroidered flowers over his expensive shirt, his capable hands tossing what looked to be pasta on the pan. This was not something that you quite expected, but he looked so cute to your that you couldn't help but lean against the doorjamb as you were enthralled by this sudden act of domesticity from the leader of Onychinus.

And yet.

The stinging at your side made you inhale sharply before sighing. It needed to be dealt with now.

"Sylus." Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, but it was enough to make him turn. It amused you when he raised his brow, those sharp eyes of his wandering from your face, to your bare chest, to your legs.

"Sweetie," he said as he set the finished pasta aside. "If you're trying to lure me to bed, you're going to succeed."

Your laugh drew a smile out of him as he took a few steps towards you, his arms folded over his wide chest. "So?" There was curiosity in his eyes, just above the simmering heat. "Was there anything that you needed?"

You stayed by the door, your hair falling to the side of your face as you tilted your head once more. There's no beating around the bush with this man, so there's no point in playing coy. Especially since you might get yourself in an even worse position that could medically incapacitate you for a few days. Or worse, be medically incapacitated for a few days at the hospital.

So.

"Could you use your evol to stitch me up?"

There was an unreadableness to his face, one that you've seen only a few times before. He just stood there, still as a statue, the only change to his expression was the furrowing of his brow.

"Show me."

If you didn't spend a long time trying to decipher this man, you would have missed the slight hitch, the small change in inflection in his low voice at the command. You reached out, took his hand into yours, and pulled him into the bedroom.

Sylus didn't wander in here while you were gone, preferring to do so while in your presence. Your bedroom wasn't all that different to the rest of your apartment. A bit sparse, but not Spartan in decoration. Although the place leaned more towards function over aesthetics, there were little nick knacks that popped out in their tidy, little spaces. Small figurines dotted your bookshelf, soft plushies placed neatly on various tables and furniture. Pictures of you and what he assumed as your captain, Jenna, and a few of your colleagues rested on a table next to your bed.

He sat on the edge of your bed, his hands folded neatly over his lap, tapping as he watched you slide the towel off of your still damp body, your calloused yet gentle hands folding it with practiced ease and placing it next to you as you sat. You peered at him, muffled a laugh when you saw him shamelessly studying your nude torso.

"Like what you see?"

"Hm." His eyes were sharp as they regarded you, regarded the strength that showed in your physicality, the gorgeous swell of your chest, the stray water droplet that fell from your bruised shoulder down your arm. And zeroed in on that massive slash, still red and puffy, on your side.

"I didn't know we were already at that stage where you would show me your body without my prompting."

"Please," there was mock derision in your voice. "You've already seen my tits when we got linked. Don't tell me the incredibly intelligent leader of Onychinus already forgot what they looked like?" There was a grin on his mouth but the laughter didn't reach his eyes. You didn't like that one bit. "Sylus." You reached over, cupped his face. "I'm okay."

"It's going to hurt." His voice was so soft, so tender as he leaned into your touch. The gruff elegance that always seemed to exude from him was gone in this moment, wherein focused contemplation reigned instead.

"I know."

Your eyes locked for a moment, and then another, and another, before he yielded. Taking your hand on his cheek, he pulled you closer and rested your head on his shoulder. "If you need to bite something, just bite my shoulder."

"I don't think this is the time for your kinks, Sylus."

"Sweetheart, we all have to get our fun somehow."

You laughed as you leaned into his touched, the scent of his cologne sending comfort throughout your body. "Go ahead."

Those gentle fingers of his trailed your skin, heat following wherever it went. It wasn't so bad, it was almost like droplets of the hot water you used for your morning coffee, feathering over your bruises as if kissing away the wounds.

But the heat quickly turned into a sharp flame, searing, slowly searing into you as you felt you skin stretch, connect, stitch itself within itself before dissipating into particles of red ash.

You didn't see how much Sylus was monitoring your breathing, searching for any minute reaction that you could be doing to hide your pain from him. With a click of his tongue, he pulled you back, those beautiful carmine eyes of his burning into yours.

"Darling," there was a warning edge to his tone as the black and red ink of his evol swirled around you. "Talk to me."

But you weren't afraid, weren't at all in pain. You bumped your nose to his chin. Smiled. "Keep going."

You could see how much he wanted to stop, how much he wanted to just swaddle you in his arms. There was a tightness in your jaw, a twitch in your eye, your fingers clamping onto his thigh.

And still, you kissed his neck, to comfort him more than for your own benefit.

"Sweetie," his voice was rough as he massaged your leg. "Most people would be screaming."

"I'm not most people now, am I?"

"Now I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." But he kept going.

It was quicker, much quicker once he's gauged your pain tolerance. Every single mark and injury that marred your skin scattered to ash, to nothingness. The stinging that annoyed you during your trek back from the forest was gone. Both of you sighed.

"Thanks, Sy."

"Don't ever ask me to do that again."

There was a petulance in his voice, a deep annoyance that was more than irritation, leaned more towards fear. Your lips met his in a quiet apology. "No promises."

He clicked his tongue as he shook his head at you, those wide shoulders shrugging in temporary defeat. "You will be the death of me."

"Oh yes," there was an innocence in your voice, one that was met with a snort. You pushed yourself from your seated position on the bed and sat on his lap, not minding the way your legs straddled over him. You cradled his face, massaged his scalped, stared deeply into his eyes. "If you are going to die," you whispered, your lips once again hovering over his luscious ones. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to give in. To give yourself to him. "It's because I've killed you slowly." Fingers traced his bottom lip, the curve of his chin. "Thoroughly." A kiss to his well-defined nose. "Because you are my quarry, as I am yours. Do you understand?"

Sylus' eyes shined like polished rubies and you swear you could hear the hammering of his heart even when his face gave away nothing.

He gripped the back of your neck, caressed the base of your skull as he cocked his head. Smirked wickedly. "I agree to those terms."

"Good." And before he could do anything else, because the bastard would definitely do something else, you maneuvered yourself out of his grasp and into the kitchen in one swift, playful move. "Food's getting cold."

Your laugh tinkled out when you moved away from his reach, winking at him when he just watched you saunter away.

Oh he'll accept the loss this time. Next time, however, he's not going to let you off that easily.

From the confines of your closet, he quickly grabbed one of your nightshirts and followed you out the door.

--

Check out my other Sylus fics here!

Also please send me ideas, I am running out lmao (｡•́︿•̀｡)

[vivalarevolution]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓮 𝓖𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓽

Request: „Lady Margot is sent to Giedi Prime to seduce Feyd Rautha, yet na-Baron doesn't give in to temptation, showing how much he loves his wife and how far his obsession with her truly goes.‟

A/N: Request from @hskskdk , the request itself was slightly rephrased by myself but the context remained the same. Nevertheless, I hope you will all like it and you'll enjoy reading it.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes might happen.

Work contains smut , minors do not interact.

The Bene Gesserit was a female order constituting one of the most important pillars of the Empire. They were devious , cold and remarkably exalted. They struck fear as much as they did awe.

Yet in the eyes of young na-Baron, they were nothing more than witches manipulating the weak minds of even weaker men.

But that changed. She changed it.

She was one of them. She was just as manipulative, just as devious. Yet one look from her was enough to make Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen bend to her will.

She became his wife, his lover, his goddess. He was willing to kill for her, to cause suffering to those who were against her.

When lady Margot Fenring tried to break him the same way , make him hers , she failed. Because she wasn't her. She never could've been.

And with her failure came the raw rage of her sister.

-First you enter my house uninvited and then you have the audacity to try seduce my husband when my eyes are not focused on him- she said in a cold and harsh tone , looking at the older woman.

-I am not obliged to explain my actions to you Y/n - she replied, looking directly into the eyes of her younger sister -Because you know that the actions of our order have a greater purpose.

-And yet here you are - na-Baroness remarked.

-I'm here because you failed my dear sister - Lady Fenring said , her face still remained stoned and unmoved- In the place of the male heir there are three daughters. To have one child like that is a mistake but to have three is an insult.

Feyd Rautha's wife looked at her with composure , but her blood was boiling like wildfire , ready to burn everything in its path.

-Bene Gesserit needed me to give birth to a son. But my husband wanted daughters - Y/n proclaimed , walking slowly towards the blonde-haired woman - I gave them to him and I plan to give him as many daughters as he wants because it is my husband who has control over me. Only him.

-Even if this is what you allow yourself to believe , don't you think that eventually the need for a male offspring will occur? - she asked her - Feyd Rautha is still a man , a man who is the heir of the Harkonnen House. His love for you will fade away.

-His love for me is dangerous - Y/n declared - But it is not dangerous for me. It is dangerous for others - she whispered , standing in front of her sister - He is ready to kill for me , he is ready to destroy everything my heart desire - she confessed, looking into her blue eyes - He has already done it…and he will do it again, all it takes is a mere word from my lips. His love will not fade away…it will only grow.

-Are you threatening me? - asked Lady Fenring , looking closely into the eyes of the na-Baroness.

-I warning you - she answered, measuring her with a disdainful look - I suggest you go to your chambers dear sister. Do not continue to tempt the creatures in the shadows who are watching you.

Her words were not commanding, but their hidden meaning made the woman walk away, leaving Y/n Harkonnen with her husband, who had been watching her in the darkness since the beginning of the conversation, following her like a hunter follows his prey.

-Do you wish me to kill her , my darling? - he asked , approaching her slowly , watching her intensely.

-You cannot - she replied , closing her eyes when his large palms rested on her body.

-She disrespected you , she insulted your children and tried to seduce your husband - he whispered , kissing her neck -You have every right to kill her. I will do it for you , just say the word my beloved- he said , capturing her face so she would leveled gazes with him.

She looked at the male for a long time , having a silent discussion with him, but no matter how much she tried to deny it ,her decision was made long ago , even before her husband had spoken.

-I want the life to escape from her eyes - she demanded - But I want her to wait, I want her mind to be filled with nothing but the awareness that she won't live to see the next morning - she said, sliding her hand along na-Baron's torso - And I want her to hear exactly how great your love for me is and what she can never have - she whispered sensually into his mouth - I want you to make love to me - she announced quietly, kissing his pale, full lips.

Feyd pulled her into his arms. His possessive grip left marks on her that she never wanted to get rid of.

He took her to their chambers. His hungry mouth could not refrain from tasting her soft flesh , marking it with blue marks. The woman in response tilted her head , exposing her neck , so that his teeth and tongue could have fuller access to her. He attacked the exposed patch of her skin almost immediately, relishing in the taste of his beloved , trapped in his embrace.

His wife allowed herself to close her eyes , giving herself over to the arms of pleasure. His kisses made everything inside her cease to exist , only raw hunger remained.

When the man moved away from her body , and her back met the cool satin sheets , her gaze rested on him , and her brow furrowed.

She wanted him close , she needed him close.

Grabbing his neck with her hand, she pulled him towards her , bringing their lips together again. Their tongues moved in a passionate dance , as their teeth rubbed against each other , and saliva lazily ran down their jaws.

His hands destroyed the clothes between them , as his teeth marked each new piece of her skin with his teeth . Her legs wrapped around his waist , feeling his thick, veiny shaft rubbing against her wet and trembling womanhood , and as he entered her , assaulting her insides , she drove her long nails into him ,scratching them across his pale back , leaving an angry red trail behind.

Feyd bit down hard on her neck , savoring her sweet blood. In response , she grabbed his hand, bringing it closer to her throat , needing to feel more of the pain which mixed so deliciously with pleasure. And the man immediately knew what the woman wanted from him.

He squeezed the skin of her neck , restraining the access of air to her lungs , smiling sinisterly as he felt her body tighten , and her climax approaching drastically fast. Her eyes rolled back , and the image before her became blurry as her body was flooded with rough pleasure , that only her husband could give. Moaning loudly ,she felt his hot cum fill her , running lazily down her thighs , staining them black.

Na-Baron kissed the red , soft lips of his lover , tasting her with extraordinary tenderness as well as possessiveness.

-My knives are yours. My life is yours. My love is yours. My blood, my body, my riches, all these belong to you - he vowed to her ear , kissing its lobe - You have bewitched my body and soul and there is no one who can take me away from you.

The woman smiled gently , stroking his jaw with her fingertips.

-I believe you my husband - she stated , looking deeply into his blue eyes.

-Rest now my wife- he muttered at the hollow of her neck where he placed a single kiss - Rest because when you wake up I will make sure that you leave the chambers with another daughter under your heart.

She obediently followed his command , allowing sleep to envelop her exhausted body. And when she finally awoke , she was met with the sight of her husband.

He was covered in blood , kneeling in front of her lying figure , holding in his hands the head of Lady Margot Fenring.

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LET ME TREAT YOU ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 박종성 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: jay was a giver, he always has been. so when your darling boyfriend decided to treat you with his new pay check, you were as grateful as always, but you soon decide that there were more important things than a new pair of jeans

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!jay x non-idol!reader, est. relationship

warnings: attempts at humour, pet names, the smallest hint of angst, potential to feel guilt bcs jay is too good for this world

[archive]

“I might try this one on too.”

Jay smiled, gesturing for you to let him hold the jeans.

His first pay check had just arrived and your boyfriend had surprised you with a trip to the mall and a nice lunch.

You felt like you’d already splurged enough on the delicious affogato at the cafe but Jay had insisted that you both treat yourselves to some new clothes. And you desperately wanted a new pair of jeans.

“Jay, I swear, it’s impossible to find one that fits exactly the way I want.” You had about four different styles of denim pants hung over one arm as you sifted through the hangers for more options.

Jay was designated with the task to keep track of which jeans seemed closest to your desired style.

You had your back turned to him but you could still hear your boyfriend sigh a little, leaning against the wall as you continued your hunt.

“Love,” he called out, “how about you start trying some of these and see if we can eliminate some options.”

You waved a hand as a gesture for him to wait a second. “I just need one more!”

Jay scoffed a laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure. Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Mhm.”

more under cut !!

After staying silent for a few moments, Jay cleared his throat. “If these jeans fit anything like the ones you’re wearing right now, then I guess it’ll be worth it.”

You gasped, flicking your head to the side, “Park Jongseong!”

Heart racing at the sound of his laughter, you turned away hastily to grab the last pair of jeans in your size before rushing off to the trials rooms.

“Goddamn, slow down.” Jay followed behind you, his long strides helping him catch up in no time.

A smirk creeped onto your face and you shook your head involuntarily at the way Jay pulled you closer by your waist, walking in tandem as you reached the last stall.

“Here.” He handed you the pile you considered ‘Pile 1’ aka the jeans that you were hoping and praying would fit you because they looked perfect. He proceeded to take ‘Pile 2’ off your hands. “Gimme those, and I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks baby,” you whispered, before sliding the curtain shut.

Out of the four jeans you’d brought into the trail room, three fit you quite nicely, but one in particular, was perfect. So much so that you couldn’t help but poke your head out (followed by a quick laugh at Jay’s startled expression) before asking him to come inside.

“So, what do you think?”

Jay dropped the jeans he was holding onto the trail room seat, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated between you and your reflection in the mirror.

You turned a couple times to glance at yourself, extremely satisfied with the way they fit.

“You look great,” Jay smiled, his eyes closing slightly into half mooned crescents. “You definitely need to get these.”

You brushed your hair back, sighing from the relief of finally finding a new pair of jeans and not having to wear the same two pieces you had for years. “How much is it?” You asked aloud, turning back to let Jay check the tag.

You watched his face as the sound of cardboard brushing against his fingertips filled the small room. His expression was pretty unmoving, a simple jut of his lower lip followed by a nod.

“It’s good, totally fits the budget.”

You frowned, “Okay… What is it, though?”

“Uh…”

You twisted around to check the tag yourself before feeling your jaw drop. “What?”

Jay stepped forward, his hands enveloping yours, making you let go of the price tag as he turned you back around to face your guys’ reflection. “Don’t worry about it.”

You blinked at his nonchalance, “Jay, it’s not within our budget, it is our budget.”

“You know I can afford it,” he reasoned.

“That’s not the point!”

“Love-”

You look away from the mirror, facing your boyfriend and resting your hands against his chest. “Jay, this is your first proper pay check, this isn’t an internship anymore, you deserve this money.”

“I know that.” Jay leaned a little closer, “But I want to spend it on you.”

You pursed your lips. On the one hand, you really wanted these jeans, but agreeing to spend that much money on them — regardless of the fact that quality denim is an investment — it wasn’t fair to Jay and therefore, went against everything that you stood for.

“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I don’t need these. I want them, but I can — no, I will find a more affordable price.”

Jay opened his mouth to interject, only to be silence by your soft palm against his lips.

Your voice was just a whisper, “I don’t want you to convince me. You already give me so much, Jay. We can buy me some nice jeans another time, just enjoy the money you earned for yourself, please.”

Jay’s eyes darted back and forth between yours, you could feel the gentle smile of his lips against your palm before you removed it.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you closer and kissing you tenderly. “I’m not exactly happy with this,” his words came out muffled between your kisses, “But just know that I will be spoiling you soon.”

“How about you let me pick out some clothes for you and we’ll call it even?” You slid your arms around his neck.

Jay smirked. “That’s not even in any way.”

“You’ll get a hot new outfit.”

“Tempting.” He leaned forward, nudging your noses together.

a.n: second instalment of the ‘kiss me don’t say no’ drabble series !! trust cute bf jay to want to treat you when he should be the one getting special treatment :(

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf

2025 © yourislandgirl

[oldmenthusiast]

mdni 18+ content

old!logan howlett x fem younger reader

warnings ★ large age gap — reader is 20+ — fingering — use of ‘kid’ from logan — smut — he likes being called mister howlett yes he does

note ★ it's 3am and I'm ovulating, im sorry 4 mistakes I wrote this in a rush weewoo. this is low-key short so just enjoy

no sounds occupied the barn except your soft panting and the wet squelching that emitted from between your legs. logan held you closely as you sat on his lap, your back facing his chest. one of his hands was gripping your wrists together while his other hand disappeared beneath your white nightdress. “this is the last time. you can't come back after today.” you were familiar with that line of his. he had spoken it too many times and each time you'd ignore it as you appeared in his doorstep, asking for something. sugar, honey, salt. anything. logan had figured you out like an open book but he still opened that damn door to you, he still invited you in and he still guided you in his barn where he supposedly had more supplies. in reality he didn't even remember what you'd asked of him in the first place. your curious fingers lifted your dress up just to expose your bareness below the waist. you observed with needy eyes as logan’s three digits disappeared into your soppy cunt, coming out wetter than ever each time. you shifted a little in his lap when he picked up the pace and you threw your head back, your shaky fingers reaching to grip anything; but specifically his thighs. “please don't stop.” you pleaded out loud when he curled those fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot. logan resumed fucking you with his fingers fast and deep, the tips of them slightly curled to assault that sensitive bulge of nerves within you. “mister howlett.” you panted softly and the formality scratched his brain in a damn good way. having you speak to him as if he wasn't making you a mess with his own fingers was the highlight of this. “let go. it's okay, sweetheart. I got you.” he whispered as his lips brushed against your ear. you purposely twisted your head to look at him and logan couldn't resist how close your lips were. you whined against his mouth as those fingers moved within you, twisting and thrusting, until your thighs were a trembling mess. a final brush of his calloused palm against your clit set everything off and your eyes rolled back. “that’s it.” he murmured through gritted teeth as you came hard, your entire body shaking on top of his own as your fingers clutched at his thighs with desperation. logan silenced your scream with a deep kiss which you happily returned despite the exhaustion settling in your bones. he released your wrists and stared at the space between your legs knowingly as you moved your free hands to logan’s wrist. he shuddered when you used your hands to shove his fingers deeper within you, as if they weren't already buried to the hilt. “a little more.” you pleaded against his lips and logan felt his heart beating in a certain way he wished to ignore. he remained like that, his bulge nestled against your bare ass beneath that dress, and his fingers unmoving inside you but keeping you full. you stayed like that until logan was regretfully helping you up and urging you away. it wouldn't be right for you to be seen with him, he'd remind you. “goodbye, mister howlett.” you so sweetly wished with that pretty smile and all logan could do was watch with strained trousers as you did your best to keep your dress modest.

he was the worst man. logan was certain of it as you appeared in his door step the next day and repeated another rehearsed sentence. “good morning, mister howlett. do you happen to have any honey left?” your eyes sparkled as they looked at him and logan weighed out his options of telling you to disappear or at least pushing you away nicely. “‘m sure I got more honey in the barn, kid.” i’m a weak man, logan thought as he ignored his mind again and entered the barn with you. when those large doors closed, he wondered if it'll ever stop.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 23

Miguel x F!Reader (Bondage)

Summary: Miguel is tired of you running around the Spider Society and needs you to sit down and listen for five minutes.

Warning: MINOR DNI, SMUT, bondage, webs being used in ways they shouldn't be used, overstimulation

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There a good number of things that drove Miguel up a wall. Many of them were due to either his job at Alchemax, or his position at the Spider Society.

Apart from those two, another thing that made Miguel crazy was you.

You were pretty much the hyper active child of the Spider Society. Always swinging around, making a fuss where ever you go. Miguel was getting tired of having to find you and sit you down for even five minutes.

"(Y/N), come to my office," Miguel said with a heavy sigh as he called you via watch.

"Can't right now, Miggy! I'm having a race!"

"Where?!"

"Uhhhhh....can't....bzzz....you..."

Miguel felt his eye twitch as you hung up on him. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, Lyla ever so happily showed him the footage of you racing with some other Spider people. The group of you bumping into pillars left and right.

Honestly, Miguel loved the hyper go-energy you had. He just wished you stood still enough for him to admire you. Watching your body twist and turn made Miguel's mind wander. What did he have to do to keep you still?

Miguel slumped in his seat wondering if you would still try to move if he ever fucked you.

"Hehe, okay, I won! What did you need, Miggy? I have like...three people to meet soon!" You chirped as you swung into his office.

"You're going to have to cancel," Miguel groaned softly, wanting to hide his erection.

"Awe! No fair, you know~ I'll just come bac-"

You gasped as Miguel fired his webbing towards you. With ease, you legs were bound and you had fallen onto the floor. Right when you were going to break free, Miguel swung over and webbed your hands together. Like a fish, you flopped over to face him.

"Fine! Fine, I'll listen." You pouted. Miguel hovered over you, his breathe against your neck,

"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" He asked, causing your heart to race a bit, "Is this how I have to get you to stay still?"

"I guess,"

Miguel was so close to you. Having both your hands and legs tied was making both your mind and heart race. As you looked into his crimson eyes, you couldn't help but lean towards Miguel. You had always found Miguel handsome.

As if he read your mind, Miguel captured your lips in a kiss. His hands rested against your knees, slowly breaking the binding. As you melted into the kiss, you didn't realize that Miguel had positioned himself between your legs, webbing your already bonded hands to the unmovable object.

"Mhm~ Mig-" You gasped between kisses, squirming slightly as you felt his body against yours.

"Shh, you were doing so well," Miguel groaned.

You wanted to whine. You wanted to move, but Miguel was making it difficult. Perhaps if you kept moving, you would get out of his webbing?

--------

"Ah~ Hn~"

"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Don't wanna move now?"

You had become a moaning mess as Miguel pounded your pussy with his dick. Every time you tried to move, Miguel would change positions, keeping you bounded.

"Mhm~" You flinched as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"No moving remember?" Miguel chuckled.

Webbing your legs up, Miguel leaned into you even deeper than before. His breathing getting heavier as you came upon change. You weren't sure how much more your body could take. Drool was rolling down your cheek as your body kept asking for more.

Your pussy was twitching with every slap of his dick. Your body felt like it was on fire as you started to lose your sense of reason. You wanted to say that it hurt, but you couldn't. Miguel was making a mess of you and felt so damn good.

"Shit, I'm going to cum, (Y/N)." Miguel groaned lowly.

Hearing those words again made your brain spin. You whined and moaned in response as Miguel's pace picked up again. His thick cock pounding against your cervix, ready to unload inside you again.

"Stay still and drink up," Miguel hummed.

Your body arched forward, moaning as you felt him cum inside you. The two of you took a moment to rest before Miguel undid his webs. Your arms and legs flopped to the ground as you breathed heavily.

"You moved again, (Y/N). I have so much to teach you still," Miguel chuckled as he lifted you up against his chest.

"Lemme....rest first."

"But then you haven't learned."

You whined softly as Miguel webbed your hands behind your back as he sat you against his lap. Your pussy swallowed his dick with ease as you let your body rest against him.

"Another round should teach you, right?" Miguel questioned with a kiss.

Needless to say, another round was not enough to keep you still.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[retiredteabag]

An uninformed narrative

last part - pt. 2 - next part

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Damn it...damn it...damn-

After all the work you had put into your farm, into your skill set, into your friendships, the Dunning-Kruger effect had bitten you where it hurt. And you couldn't help but feel it was all your fault.

The pit in your stomach was sinking. How could you have let this happen? You had been so careful, you had even worn the armor you recently acquired from the guild. Was all this effort for nothing?

There were many thoughts swirling in your head as you frantically attempted to fend off the ghosts attacking you. You were encircled. Yes, the number was weening but so was your health, you knew you didn't have long. And the strongest feeling brewing in your heart was the shame that you had overestimating yourself.

The sword in your hand shook and your knees throbbed as you fell to the stone floor deep within the mines. Your vision was fading and even as you knew there was nothing left for you to win, you swung at the ghost coming your way, missing in your haste, and slump to the ground. Unmoving.

At least nobody would find you here...see you like this.....

-- several hours prior --

Life continued on as usual after joining the adventurers guild. The Stardew Valley Fair had just passed and after collecting your most prized items, you had won. Your heart had been full that night, not for your accomplishments, but for how loved you felt after a day of festivities with your friends.

You had sat and eaten with Penny and Leah, discussing life in the valley. You and Leah both had come to the Valley after living the city life but Penny had been born in Stardew, and that evening she had confessed her hope to one day travel away from town. The three of you decided that one day, you would adventure together.

Penny had cried.

Your heart was warm, watching Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent play in the apple-bobbing bucket and participate in slingshot games. Yuuji bounced up and down when he spotted you and his teacher, begging the two of you to come and play with them.

Life had felt whole.

Despite the labor that went into caring for your crops and animals, you had never felt so fulfilled.

Having just cracked level 50 in the mines that weekend, you grew excited when a day would come when you would have the chance to explore more of the depths.

It was not simply for personal gain, either. Though it was nice to have useful ore and pretty gemstones, you couldn't help but love feeling useful to your friends in town. Hunting the monsters below the surface was never too much work when it meant seeing their grateful faces.

Not too long after the town fair the forecast called for rain. Those days were designated for the awaiting mineshaft as you had little to do around the farm.

Back then, you had never thought it would cause this.

--

Night had fallen when you were found. It was dark, and relentlessly pouring rain, you could hear its aggressive pitter-patter on the ceiling of the cave.

You squeezed your eyes and tried to move but your body cried out against the stretch. You drew your hands down to the earth you were strewn upon. Your fingers traced the dirt below you.

Dirt?

Your eyes shot open. Heart beating as if you had never lost consciousness. Your vision and skull were pulsing painfully with the beats of your heart. You flung your head around dramatically.

You were within the face of the cave, you could just make out the Mountain Lake through the rain...

Your palm finds your forehead, and some kind of inhuman noise escapes you. Your brain was just starting to question how you moved up 55 levels when you opened your eyes again and saw him.

A man is squatting by your side, he looks... furious... to say the least.

Not expecting to see anything but a ghost in the case of your survival, you gasp. Shifting away from his all-too-close glower.

"Stay still you moron." He's gripping your shoulder with a hand, pulling you closer, you hadn't seen or felt it before, but he's got his other hand on your shin.

"Wha-what- how-who- I just-" Nicely said. Very eloquent.

He seems to scowl even more, despite not thinking it possible.

"Are you out of your mind?" His eyes glow red in the dark of the cavern. Though he has brought himself close to the ground in examining you, he is still a looming presence. "How can a damn farmer not have any food on them?"

"I just- I was" It was then that you realize who the man before you is. You had met him this past week, in the adventurers guild. The embarrassment you felt increased ten fold. "I had some...but-"

"What? You used it all and didn't think to head back? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He released his grip on your left calf and a fiery pain shoots up your leg. You gasp.

"No-!" You shake with the feeling.

"Sure looks like you are." The man shoulders his backpack to his front and starts searching for something.

Gratitude is the last thing on your mind. You're already ashamed enough but this man... this Sukuna was it? He was being unnecessarily rude.

He finally brings out a wad of cheese wrapped in parchment, and hands it to you.

"Eat. Your runnin' on fumes right now."

You huff but don't try to hide your desperation. Accepting the cheese and scarfing it down. Once it's settled in your stomach you feel much more alive. The pain in your calf is still very real but at least you have enough energy to make it home.

You push down at the ground, attempting to lift yourself but the weight on your leg causes a dramatic whimper to escape your throat. The pain was blinding. You'd have to see Harvey about this...

"What are ya doing?!" The tattooed man shoves your shoulders once more to keep you from rising.

"I'm trying- I need to get back..." You shake off his grip.

He laughs at you. But there's no smile on his face. It's cruel. "You really must be an idiot." Your brows furrow. "You aint walkin' on that leg." He points, and when you make no reply, he tugs up at the hem of your pants.

It's strange. He is the biggest, burliest man you've ever encountered, to countryman or city man alike, he is... quite large. He has a rough voice too, and a brutal look. Yet the touch he leaves on your ankle as he relives its weight, sliding the pantleg up, is as clement as a kitten.

This gentle juxtaposition throws you and it takes a moment for you to realize his intention to show you the blackened bruise that covers your left leg, ankle to shin. All air leaves you.

"You were fully out by the time I got down there. You're lucky most beasts here aint hungry for human flesh." He tucks your pant leg into your sock, softly settling your leg onto the ground once more.

You stare at his bent form. "Well...I'm- Thank you, you didn't have to get me, but I appreciate it." He's making an incredulous face, insulted. "And-" You speak up, "for the cheese as well, I feel much better."

He scoffs- "Oh, I didn't have to? And I suppose I'm to just leave ya to die? Gimmie a break."

He's stood to his full height just then, as he makes his way to peer out of the cave entrance you roll your eyes. Mentally retracting your thanks.

"Picked a great day to be here. Real nice choice of weather." He's taking off his backpack, then his jacket.

"Well..." You huff, "I guess you can come down here whenever you please but I'm busy with the farm when it's not raining, so actually today was ideal weather." You cross your arms, annoyed. Then work yourself up to try and stand once more.

"Oh yea?" He shuffles in his bag again, "Well I'd imagine if you were so busy with farm work you wouldn't come down here without some food to sustain your travel." He looks at your wobbling form now, and hisses between his teeth, dropping his bag.

"What the hell is wrong with you??!" His voice is frightening, and your eyes shake as you watch him stomp your way. "Couldn't wait one second, huh?"

"I need to get home, it's almost midnight..." You were starting to get fed up with his attitude. He's rolling his eyes and scoffing as if you've done something wrong.

But then he does something strange. He's grunts, squatting right beside you, but he's turned now, his broad back in your face.

"What... are you doing?" You squint at him.

"Thought you needed to get home." He turns to look at you, "Are you suddenly getting patient now?"

"What? No! I can do it myself!" As you say it you become more sure of yourself. There is no way you are letting this pompous prick carry you all the way to the farmhouse.

This time he sounds as if his laugh might be a bit more genuine. "Don't-make-me-laugh." His voice is mean and he turns to face you. "You're dumber than I thought if you're gonna try and walk home on that," he points to your leg, "in this." He directs his finger to the cave entrance, illuding to the downpour outside.

You grit your teeth. Almost wanting to swing at him. "Fine. Carry me then. Since I'm clearly incapable." Some part of your presumes he'll leave you here to fend for yourself. But he just frowns.

Disbelief covers his brows. "S'what I was trying to do from the start." His voice is low, and he turns once more, one arm pulls your own over his right shoulder, the other cradles your wounded leg.

"I'm gonna pull. Don't hoist yourself."

It's annoying. How prominent his lats and lower traps are. He lifts you, his right hand locked on your forearm, holding it to his chest. Now that he has risen, he uses his other arm to swing your left leg across his hip, allowing you to find a comfortable position as his new backpack.

There was a strain in your body as he had lifted you, but still, you're shocked by how effortless he made it look.

Too afraid to make a noise for fear of something stupid like "wow" coming out, you hold tight in silence as he bends down to grab his jacket. As he swings it across your form, the zipper hits your temple.

"Ow!" You grumble in his ear and he chuckles.

Bastard.

He bends once more to grab his bag and with it in hand, starts off through the mountains.

You never asked for his jacket. And you wouldn't have either. But you do feel a little bad that he is getting soaked while your clothes remain almost perfectly dry.

You swing your elbow onto his shoulder and bring your hand to the top of his head to block the rain.

"Enough of that." He swats away your hovering hand, "M' not made of sugar."

"Could've fooled me." You mumble

He reaches up to you with an open hand, finds your head with precision, and promptly flicks your skull with a firm finger.

"Ow!" You whine, tearing his hand from your forehead and tugging his ear like a grandma.

It's silent for a while as he treks past the carpenter's house, and into the path behind the bus station. "I'm just down here." You point. Trying to avoid the awkward silence.

"I know where the farm is." He motions your hand away once more.

Okay. You grit your teeth. Why can he not just be friendly like everyone else in this town?

When you begin to see the lights of your house, your heart starts to pulse. Are you supposed to invite him in? Is he going to lay you in bed? Your mind spins.

Before stomping up your porch steps, he grabs a large stick that your dog undoubtably has been carrying around and leans it against your door. "You good to be dropped off here? Or d'ya need me to tuck you in too?"

Little. Brat.

"I think I'll fair just fine like this." You force out. An attempt at cordiality.

"Alright then." He reaches around, gripping the small of your back, and gently lowers you to a stack of logs you keep for winter. Not allowing you to swing down and fall.

A small part of you wants to thank him. Was he an annoying git? Yes. But he didn't need to go to all the trouble to carry you home. Even so, his irritating remarks still float in your recent memory, so instead of a 'thank you', you say,

"The town is that way!" Pointing to the path he had walked past. His back had turned from you and continued south.

He turns around only for a moment.

"I'm well aware. I've lived here a'lot longer than you." He turns once more, making his way down to the forest.

"That's the way to the CIdersap Forest though?" You shout after him over the roars of the wind.

"Really?" He yells over the storm, not turning back, but moving slowly, "Didn't know."

"Well...." You lean on the stick he brought you to stand, "Where are you headed, it's nearly morning!"

The man turns one last time a grimace on his face. "I live in the Cidersap Forest."

His words permeated your brain now that he's gone from your vision. How could that be? That's where Marnie, Leah, and Jin lived. Could it be that there was a place you hadn't encountered in your year at the Village? Maybe so, seeing as you had only met the Hunter this past week.

The events of the night weighed on your shoulders as you limped into your house, gently closing the door. Your dog was wagging its tail, laying in bed, waiting for you.

It wasn't until you were about to flop on your bed that you realized: he had left you his jacket.

[kiemiu]

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝓞𝐍𝐄: 𝓑𝐞 𝓞𝐮𝐫 𝓖𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc 1.9k

summary -> an unexpected arrival of a little boy and his sister has you working longer than you'd like. warnings -> trying to use y/n as least as possible.

( beneath the quiet masterlist )

8:52PM

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 was finally coming to an end. A huff of relief escaped your mouth as you leaned against the cracked wooden door frame of the children's playroom. When you weren't working as a barista at Café Gippeum, you were a helpful extra set of hands around your adoptive mother's orphanage.

You had just gotten off of an early-morning shift, the day dragging on longer than you would've like it too. Usually when you work a few hours at the café it's later in the night, giving you enough time and freedom to handle your tips appropriately when you get off because of your lack of obligations, yet today was different.

Having minimal time to do anything with the tips you earned besides stuffing them in the pocket of your cardigan and gently patting the pocket every now and then to make sure it was still there.

Taking care of children who were in the same position you used to be was a bittersweet feeling. Growing an attachment to them by giving each other nicknames, comforting them in their hardest times, and cherishing the fleeting moments that brought them so much joy and excitement, only to feel like you were losing a sibling of your own when they undoubtedly got adopted. You were happy for them nonetheless, wanting every kid in the orphanage to find a home with caring parents with a cute scruffy animal to go along with it. That's what every kid deserved.

Even as someone who got adopted and wished for that life you couldn't help but envy those who had the full picture perfect family that wasn't simply just for show. Your "Mother" who was once sweet, caring, and attentive had turned vicious, and evil during your prepubescent years. Rarely giving you grace for the mistakes you made and scrutinizing your every move.

She wasn't always like this, nevertheless there were still certain episodes she had where it seemed like a switch flipped inside of her that filled her with visceral rage every time she set her gaze on you. She had become your own personal hellscape, never knowing if she wanted to hug and make amends with you or scream and shout until her voice went hoarse.

She never acted this way in front of the other children, always saving her anger for you behind the scenes and away from prying eyes.

The deep furrow in your brows and downward tug on your lips lifted at the feeling of a gentle tug on the bottom of your skirt. "Miss Kim, can you tuck me in?" a soft voice asked.

Eliana, a chubby little 4-year-old who knew nothing of life outside of the orphanage besides the occasional field trip had become one of your favorites, not that you were supposed to have any. She reminded you so much of yourself in ways your mother despised which is why you liked her so much.

You smiled down at her, holding your hand out for her to grab so she could lead you to her bunk. One of her hands gripped tightly onto three of your fingers while the other made waves with her nightgown, light skips in her step as she babbled on about the bedtime story Mama Kim read.

You hummed to let her know you were listening, even as your eyes trailed over to the foyer in curiosity. Your head tilting to get a better look of your mom with her back turned to you, speaking animatedly to two unfamiliar figures.

One of them being a tall woman, her posture stiff and unmoving, she reeked a sense of resilience and guardedness. Her eyes sharp and unwavering as she analyzed the orphanage, if you didn't know any better you'd assume she worked for Child Protective Services with the way she examined every fixture and crack in the walls.

Her dark hair sloppily pulled back into a low ponytail, wispy bangs resting dangerously close to her eyelids as tousled hair shaped the sharp yet delicate roundness of her face.

Her clothes were simple and worn, fitting her thin frame like an afterthought. The subtle sag in her shoulders didn't go unnoticed either, as she held a firm unrelenting grip on who you assumed to be her little brother's hand.

The little boy who slowly inched himself behind her, held onto one of her hands with the same amount of force. His doe-eyed gaze, less sharp and slightly frantic as he inspected the place that would soon be his temporary home. You've seen children dropped off here multiple times a year, but never by a relative other than the supposed Mom or Dad, nor were they ever so young.

You couldn't be nosey for long, feeling a strong tug on your hand as Eliana dragged you into the 'Girls Quarters' where the rest of them bounced on their beds and brushed each other's hair before laying down for the night.

You loudly clapped your hands two times to give a signal that it was nap time in which the girls quickly scurried to their designated beds, giggling to themselves as they snuggled under the covers.

You let Eliana lead you to her bed, sitting close to the edge as you tucked her in with promises of playing Barbies with her tomorrow morning, a gentle ruffle of her hair to enclose your departure before you made your way out of the girls bedroom, wishing them all a quiet goodnight before turning on the night light and shutting the door.

Another sigh left your lips as you leaned your head against the door, the weight of today slowly lifting off of your shoulders at the simple thought of getting home and being able to soak in the bath after a particularly grueling day.

Just as you started to gather your coat and bag, a shout of your name halted your steps. Turning around you're met with the face of your Mother and the two unfamiliar faces from before.

"I'm so glad I caught you on your way out." Your Mother exclaimed, an excited smile on her face as she sauntered over to you, hooking her arm around yours. "This is my daughter, she's here nearly everyday to help out. So, if you ever need assistance and I'm not here, she's the best alternative." She exclaimed, gesturing to you before lightly bumping her hip into yours at your rigid stillness, giving you the signal to say something and not just stand there like a mannequin.

You opened your mouth to say something but no words wanted to come out, at least nothing worth adding onto your Mothers introduction. "Uh—hi." you awkwardly rasped, a limp wave being sent their way, as you turned your gaze to the ground. Doing everything in your power to avoid the sharp analyzing gaze of the girl accompanied by her little brother, as well as the disappointed side eye of your Mother.

A huff of slight annoyance from your Mother was covered up by a forced laugh before she continued on with her unneeded introduction. "Sweetie, this is Kang Cheol. He's gonna be staying with us for a little while until his sister, Kang Sae-Byeok can support the both of them."

You nodded "I-We're happy to have you here. He'll get the best care-" Before your rehearsed line could gain any type of wind, Sae-Byeok raised her hand to put a stop to it.

"We've had a long night, I just wanna get him settled." She uttered, slowly lowering her hand.

Even as she was berating you without any words besides a sideways glance, you couldn't help but slightly admire her. Her body, the poster board of exhaustion, her stubbornness and will to fight impressive. "And you?" Your Mother suddenly asked as if she was taking the words out of your mouth.

"I'll be fine." She affirmed, grabbing her brother by his shoulders, giving him a reassuring squeeze before gently nudging him in my direction.

Cheol looked over his shoulder at his sister, his steps heavy and hesitant as if he was unsure without her approval. She gave him a final nod, the slight upturn of the corner of her lips a comforting smile to encourage him into your guidance.

With one more final look back, Cheol made his way to you, "Show him to the 'Boys Quarters' dear, Miss Kang and I still have one more thing left to do." Your Mother urged with a gentle pat on your shoulder before gesturing for Sae-Byeok to follow her.

As you walked your separate ways, a particularly rough jab against your shoulder led you to tumble back a bit, not expecting someone of Sae-Byeok's stature to harbor such strength.

You blamed your lack of ability to stand straight on your drowsiness, swiping your hand down your face to awaken the last bits of energy you had left in you so you could properly take care of Cheol.

You lead him to the 'Boys Quarters' reciting the schedule of the orphanage's day-to-day to him, even in your drowsy state you were able to memorize and recite the ever changing schedule of the children's home as if it were the ABC's.

Helping him get settled as quietly as possible to not disturb the already sleeping young boys around him, you helped fold his clothes and put them away, not minding his silence as you went on a small tangent of all the fun activities he'd be able to do here.

Your sentence about 'Movie Night Friday's' dying on the tip of your tongue as you watched him sink into the plushness of the mattress, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier as he lazily dragged the blanket over himself.

You decided then to make your exit, unable to get far as you heard a quiet, raspy call of your name. You turn to see him fighting to keep his eyes open, the top of his head barely peeking over the blanket. You him in question beckoning him to continue. "Will you be here tomorrow when I wake up?" he softly asked, almost seeming unsure of himself.

You nodded in reassurance, "Of course." you murmur in which he simply replied a short "Okay." before fully settling into the bed, his eyes fluttering shut.

As you made your way out of the 'Boys Quarters' an unknowing smile on your face as you shut the door behind you, out of reflex you tap your cardigan pocket, only for a jolt of energy to shoot through you at the sudden flatness that your hand was met with.

"What the hell?" you muttered as you tapped incessantly at your pockets as if it would magically appear after the 10th pat.

You assured yourself that you would've known if it fell out in the boys bedroom, you hadn't been doing any excessive movement to where it could have fallen out.

Retracing your steps back to the art room and then the entrance to see if your money had been laying haphazardly somewhere.

A rush of frustration shot through you before spotting out of the corner of your eye, your Mother and Sae-Byeok discussing the payment for Cheol's stay in the orphanage on the front porch.

A familiar stack of folded ₩10,000 notes were brought out of her pocket and handed over to your Mother as payment. Your jaw going slack and a small huff of laughter escaping your lips out of pure astonishment at the amount of audacity to use the money you had made earlier that morning as a down payment.

Fucking Pick-pocket.

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection

[cod-indulgences]

Simon x female!reader, dark Simon, chastity cages, overstimulation, forced orgasm, reference to (kidnapping?) keeping reader locked up, manipulation

Simon is a bit insecure. Can you blame him? He can see how men look at you, how you get pink and flustered when someone offers you a drink, even though your eyes always seek him out. You're too bright, too sweet and friendly, for him not to wonder in the dark hours if (when) you'll take one of those other offers.

And what if some dickhead does get up under your skirts, gets a taste of the sweet warm heaven you've been letting Simon drown in? They'd steal you away before Simon can blink.

But he knows you won't let him keep you on base, set up in his room where no one will come in without permission. Even though he'd set it up so nice, soft blankets and pillows, heated pad on the mattress to make the bed a warm nest, no need for clothes when you're all snuggled in waiting for him, a pillow between your thighs while you bury your face in his shirt and whine-

He's getting distracted.

He can't lock you up yet. But he could lock up just one part of you.

It takes some convincing to get you to agree to it ("Simon you're ridiculous, don't you trust me?" "Yes lovie, but I don't trust someone else not to get a whiff of that cunt and tear into you." "Ugh, really? Simon that's awful.") but he manages it. It's just a week to start, just seven days to test it out and make sure you're not being pinched or irritated. He picked out a nice one, cute little ring over your asshole and soft leather straps, the gleaming steel of the cage locking your cunny up tight, holes for your piss but all the soft parts hidden away. He traces the edge with his fingers and marvels at how easily you're contained, how tightly packed in the cage makes you. There's even a matching collar, that he hides away (for now).

You pout at him but he's unmoved, kisses you goodbye before heading out, lighter and more relaxed than he's been in weeks knowing the key to your belt hangs on his dog tags.

It's only when he's gone that you discover there's a little extra built into the cage, a soft textured piece inside just over your clit that rubs and rubs and rubs whenever you take a step, bend over, thrash in your bed with sweat pouring down your skin and slick dripping through the holes in the steel. You're dragged to orgasm over and over as every movement puts your poor raw clit against its torment, the solid locks keeping you even from reaching in a finger to protect it, even when you tear at the straps in a fever pitch.

Simon comes home to you naked and panting on the bed, wet stripes down your thighs and spread up your ass, and laughs in delight at the dumb look on your face when you reach desperately for the key. When he unlocks you a river of slick pours out, your clit twice it's normal size and hot pink, he can see your fucking pulse in it. Sticking his cock in you sends you off again, and he indulges himself in the warmest welcome home he's ever had in your cunt, the slap of his pelvis to your clit making you sob. You're so broken now, nothing else will compare. Oh, his sweet girl, your face snotted up with tears and incoherent begging.

His next mission is supposed to be for three weeks. After that, he's sure you'll let him bring you to base properly. He's got your room all ready.