#to people who want their clothes to be more than just “coverings and fabric” to them

[redsugarx]

青白之魅 6: Conclusion

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

If you’ve followed this series all the way to the end, thank you for your support! A lot more people saw it than I thought would, and I’m really happy that I got to share my process and thoughts with you :) I read all your replies/tags and they make me super happy! There are just a few more things I want to address to wrap things up now.

behind the scenes vid of me with Dragun that Bloomin Studio recorded for us :)

Things That Went Wrong

I am a strong believer in the scientific method and the scientific method involves error analysis!!!!! Also I don’t want it to look like all of this went off without a hitch. That wouldn’t be fair to the complexity of this project and all the people who helped me work through and solve the problems. So here are some of the ways in which We Fucked Up.

Embroidery positioning: The bottoms of the sleeves were accidentally sewn together before the pieces were sent to the embroidery workshop. If you put the whole sleeve into the machine the embroidery would go through both the front and back of the sleeve, making it unwearable. To solve this, we had to pull the stitches out from the bottom of the sleeve, have it embroidered, and then have it sent back to a tailor's shop to repair the seam. 

Tear in fabric: Lily organza/crystal organza admittedly is a very fragile fabric, especially for machine embroidering. It’s extremely thin, and the surface is very smooth and slippery, which looks phenomenal but makes embroidering it really hard. I covered this in the last post, but long story short, in the process of embroidering one sleeve on the green set, the fabric got snagged in the machinery and tore a hole in the bottom of the sleeve.

At first the plan was to remake the entire sleeve piece, but because the color of the fabric was custom-printed, when I had a new piece of fabric printed for the new sleeve, the color didn’t match exactly, so we had to make do with the existing fabric. In the end we shortened the width of the sleeve so that it cut off above the hole, moving the seam up. Thankfully it didn’t really show up in the pictures, but you can see when it’d laid flat how the ‘margin’ under the snake embroidery for this garment is unusually small, because it got cut off.

Lateness: We ran like a full hour or two overtime with our hair & makeup. This is unfortunately not at all unusual for fashion projects like this, but as a result we lost like a third of our photography time, so there were some shots that I would’ve loved to get that we didn’t have time for. 

Forgotten items: There were a number of things we forgot to bring down to SoCal with us. The biggest thing was probably our steamer. Fortunately, because this set is mostly polyester, it didn’t get too too wrinkled, but there are still some creases and folds that we would’ve steamed out had we gotten the chance.

Fav Shots

Shh not all of these are published anywhere else.

Things I Would've Done (if I had infinite time and money)

Lingzhi - I don't have any photos of it but I bought a replica lingzhi herb (the magic fungus that Bai Suzhen steals to revive Xu Xian after her dies of shock from seeing her snake form) prop. We didn't get around to using it but it would've been a really nice major callback to the story. Also I would've gotten to talk about how I think it's highly possible people thought the lingzhi was magic because they ate it and started tripping balls

Willow branches - Willow branches by the West Lake feature heavily in the opera. I wanted to get willow branches to hang from the backdrop but unfortunately wasn't able to find ones that were realistic enough. They were replaced with dried water reeds, but most of the pictures weren't shot high enough to get them in frame.

Swords - In the opera, Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing both carry swords. Also, swords are also just cool as hell. I do own one prop sword, but it was too big to fit in my suitcase even diagonally, and also I really didn't want to deal with TSA side-eyeing me about it (even though it technically counts as a prop or sports equipment), so we did not get any swords in the photoshoot.

Extremely specific shot with snakes on the floor - I have this concept of a shot: the empty set, without me or my sister in it, with both Dragun and Spirit on the floor. It would be so cool to do like a snake form -> human form diptych concept! We didn't have time to get both the snakes out at the same time unfortunately. Artistic rendition below LOL

artist's rendition

Credits & Thanks

Credit should be served where credit is due!!! I probably mentioned most of them somewhere but I want to reiterate that a whole lot of people helped make this happen and I appreciate them a lot.

Day Of:

Yulan, as the White Snake (ig @/chlobaltblue), especially for all the Talking To People Thing parts (that I hate doing)

Bloomin Studio (ig @/bloominstudioofficial), photographer

Cujo from Art of Scales (ig @/art_of_scales), for providing us with Spirit & Dragun as well as the space

Kevin (ig/@k.evinzhao), for driving and getting us stuff

Preparation:

Jinerjia（cutting & sewing）

Xishi Pavilion (cutting & sewing）

Chenxi Workshop (cutting & sewing + alteration)

Hantangfengshang（cutting & sewing）

Changxin Embroidery (digitizing & machine embroidering + alteration)

Hanyiren (patternmaking + CAD)

Xingluzhe (fabric printing + laser cutting)

Final Thoughts

In the introduction I talked a little bit about our intentions with this project and the cultural elements that I attempted to adapt and interact with. The Legend of the White Snake is one of the most well-known Chinese folktales out there, and yet there are so many wonderfully intricate details within it that people don't know about.

Snakes have a bad reputation in a lot of cultures. Evil, dangerous, and malicious, they're often cast as the scheming villains of the story, sly and sneaky characters whose goal is to do you harm. They are not the only victims of a bad reputation—every great dynasty always has some beautiful woman to blame for its eventual downfall. People have been arguing over the game of fault and intention for centuries. Even in the hanfu community, there is an unprecedented amount of infighting over what should or should not count as hanfu, who is 'allowed' to appreciate it, or who can take 'ownership' of it.

I think that's the last thing we need in this day and age. I'm reflecting on this project at a time that is uniquely terrifying for many minorities, especially in the US, who seem to be being persecuted for the crime of simply existing. I don't claim to be fighting for justice, I'm just a student in a world that is far too large for anyone to comprehend. But I hope that I helped make something beautiful happen, and I hope that we shared that with someone else, even if it's just a few people, who are reminded that it's not all for nothing :)

-

Okay, we're pretty much done here. I really enjoyed this process and documenting the whole thing, and I definitely want to do something like this again someday, but I definitely don't have the energy to do this kind of thing very often! If a big project does come up again I'll probably document it in a similar way, but it probably won't be for several months/even years. I'll keep posting hanfu articles and maybe document some smaller single-post projects on here at some point :)

Thank you for letting me share this process with you, and feel free to reply/reblog/send asks/whatever with thoughts, questions or concerns! Please interact with me it brings me joy.

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

Here's a picture of my snake to close out (his name is Porcupine/Porky for short/滷肉飯 and he's the dumbest animal I've ever met)

[gnohomotho]

can we get some like 'junho is the type of husband' pls??? ❤️❤️❤️ doesnt have to be full story just fluff!! 🙏

Jun-ho is the type ...husband!edition 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

Jun-ho is the type...husband!edition

Pairing: husband!Jun-ho x wife!fem!reader Warnings: F L U F F

Jun-ho is the type to wake up five minutes before you and get caught between wanting to snuggle you and kiss your forehead silly, but would absolutely never wish to disturb you. He will then fall back asleep with his body ever-so-slightly touching yours for reassurance...then sleep through three alarm clocks.

Jun-ho is the type to offer you all the blankets before you go to sleep, covering you in them, wrapping you up and squishing you through the fabric to relish your softness and delighted purrs at being so snug – and he gets to cuddle you harder without worry of hurting you with his fervour. In the middle of the night, however, all the blankets are oddly confiscated to his side of the bed, leading you to sleepy tug-o-wars. He’s very apologetic if he wakes and realises the situation.

Jun-ho is the type to warm you up and cover you being the big spoon, he loves feeling protective and close to you. When his chest is against your back, he knows you feel his heart and feels very connected to you. His hand always finds the top of your head and does little twirls in your hair as he humms in his sleep.

Jun-ho is the type to have all his clothes neatly folded by the bed, always wears a towel around his body after a shower, much as he loves and cherishes you, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and always acts as if it’s your first time meeting him.

Jun-ho is the type to be driven by intense adoration and affection rather than blind lust. You could put on the most racy, revealing, sensual negligée – and he will be very flattered and bashful, cheeks red and hand over eyes – but he will jump at you without warning if you’re comfortable in one of his shirts, humming to yourself and looking peaceful.

Jun-ho is the type to watch you do things, half out of protectiveness, half out of genuine curiosity. You always wonder how he manages to sneak up on you with his frame, but often you turn around to see him, smiling that wide smile to himself, as you do the most mundane tasks. Your confused “What?” is met with a little head shake and another smile.

Jun-ho is the type to get warm off your happiness – little gestures and little notes spring up around the house for you to discover, only for the little yelp of surprise or faux sigh you breathe his name in give him a small rush that makes him want to scoop you up and snuggle nose-to-nose.

Jun-ho is the type to wish to look after you, even if he knows you’re fully capable and wouldn’t ask him to. If you’re not feeling well, you get three hot water bottles and a bath drawn. And don’t even think of walking to it, he never misses an opportunity to carry you in his arms.

Jun-ho is the type to remember that one specific food, drink, item that you mention off-handily and suddenly, you discover cookbooks folded on the page of your favourite dessert and your coffee tasting more of the spice you like so much. He will never admit to it, though.

Jun-ho is the type to relish both foreplay and aftercare, with emphasis on both. He sees foreplay as the whole day he has free with you, from visiting a beautiful place with playful banter, hidden touches here and there, and lots and lots of PDA. You never knew feeding birds and sharing earphones could lead to such intimacy, but here you are.

Jun-ho is the type who loves dad jokes. Enough said.

Jun-ho is the type to be very protective of you, without bordering on uncomfortable. If you’re around people, you know his hand is very lightly hovering around the small of your back. If you’re walking together, it’s arm in arm. If you’re waiting for him, he always waits first to be aware of each aspect of his surroundings.

Jun-ho is the type to want to hold you tight, so tight he feels your bodies as one being – but is also worried he’ll hurt you, so he often walks up to you from behind and wordlessly lays his arms around your waist, holding your stomach, and gently swaying with you. The motion he feels adds intimacy and closeness.

Jun-ho is the type to remember all your anniversaries, but prefers to start celebrating them a day before their actual date, so you know he knows.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 2: Unfamiliar.

Previously // Next - (chapter list) / (AO3 ver)

Gavriel Huffman’s consciousness drifted back in pieces, slowly. The first sensation he registered was the pain. A throbbing, burning ache in his side that shot throughout his torso with each ragged breath he took. His hand twitched reflexively, wanting to clutch at the wound, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering open before having to close them as his blurry vision was assaulted by the bright sunlight peaking through the cracks of the window blinds. Gavriel winced, turning his head slightly to escape the light. The movement sent another jolt of pain lancing through his body making him grit his teeth. The pain, though familiar, was sharper now, less numbed by adrenaline.

His instincts screamed at him to assess his surroundings, and with great effort, he forced his unsteady vision to focus. What he saw made him slightly more awake with disoriented alarm.

The room was cozy. Unbearably so. The walls had warm tones of colors that made the room feel welcoming. The bed he laid on was draped in a checkered quilt with a few stitches here and there. It wasn't as feathery soft or as luxurious as the one he had back in his place, but the worn down cheap quality of it only made them feel more homely in comparison. The air was filled with a subtle, comforting scent, and the one Gavriel noticed immediately was the smell of baked goods.

It was the kind of room he had only ever seen through windows in neighborhoods he didn’t belong in.

Gavriel’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening. He didn’t belong here. The dissonance between his bleak, gritty world and this gentle, almost absurd comfort was jarring. It made his head spin, not just from the pain.

He hadn't been thinking very clearly then, but he could vaguely recall memories of the rain and the blood soaking into his clothes and him collapsing into unconsciousness, but everything after that was a blur. How had he ended up here?

Where the hell was he? His hand felt heavy as he reached up to touch the wound in his side, and he was surprised to find it wrapped in bandages. The dressing was hastily done.

He pushed the blanket aside, revealing his current state. His torso was bare, the bandages wrapped tight around his injury, and he was wearing pants that definitely weren’t his. This smooth, almost cell-shaded look… Toon clothing? This worn, clean fabric was more snug than anything he’d ever put on.

He frowns at this. Gavriel didn’t trust kindness. It's a luxury reserved for people who hadn’t been forced to scrape and claw their way through life.

With a grunt, he forced himself upright, gritting his teeth as another wave of pain rippled throughout his body. He braced himself on the nightstand, the wooden surface creaking under his grip, and scanned the room for any signs of danger.

His eyes landed on a small framed photo on the nightstand. It showed a cheerful looking man with a wide goofy smile and a thumbs-up, standing next to… what he assumes to be his family, accompanied with a clean and comfortable-looking set of clothing sitting there waiting for him to wear alongside his glasses.

He reached out for it, seating the frame on his nose bridge and ears. Gavriel turned to squint at the image, something tugging in his head as he tried to place the face of that male toon. Then his mind flashed to the moment before he went unconscious. Someone had crouched down beside him when he was dying in that alleyway.

But why? The idea that someone had helped him, patched up a criminal covered in blood, was almost laughable. People didn’t do that for him- for them. At least, not in the place where he belongs.

Currently though, that wasn't his main concern. His dark eyes narrowed. Where the hell was his gun?

His fingers instinctively moved to his waist, but the comfort of the cold metal wasn't there. Gavriel sighed as a familiar wave of dullness washed over him, pulling him in a state of rumination. He was still hurt, still vulnerable, and that meant he was in danger, no matter how deceptively safe this place looked. He clenched his fists, not even giving a wince at the painful ache in his body.

All of this made him feel rather numb and confused, but it doesn't show on his face which he'd trained to never waver even in danger. His mind felt like it was wrapped in fog, every thought coming in with a painful throb. He tried to think, to piece together why he hadn’t bled out in that alley.

He knew that his injuries had been severe enough to be fatal, the kind of wounds that left little hope for survival. A few hasty bandages and dressings wouldn’t have done much to stop the life bleeding out of him, yet here he was, hurting but alive.

He rubbed his forehead, the motion sluggish from pain as he racked his brain for an answer. It wasn’t until he sat there for a hot minute that realization struck.

Oh, right. He was in a city reigned by the Toon Genre.

It was common knowledge to all that the Toons leaned heavily on the whimsical side, or more specifically, it was the environment itself that exuded this sort of vitality. One that let its residents survive otherwise fatal mishaps with only a moment’s comedic daze and maybe a few tweeting birds circling their heads.

He couldn’t be bothered to recite the specifics of it. Something about places in the Toon genre having stronger healing properties or some nonsense like that. But now, in this moment, the absurdity wasn’t so easy to dismiss as it had been the very thing that had led to him surviving his death, a miracle in of itself.

Gavriel’s hand reached up to softly graze the large scar on the side of his neck, healed yet still deep and harrowing, which told stories of a much darker time. Touching it had been a habit he'd developed a long time ago in times of stress or simply whenever he contemplated.

He had no patience for the whimsical workings of this place, no desire to analyze the wonders or whatever it was that had saved him. The only thing that mattered to him was that it had and he's alive because of it.

It didn’t change his wariness though. If anything, it only made him more resolute to understand who had brought him here and why.

Then Gavriel hears the door click open.

---

Jack Desmond stepped into the bedroom, carefully balancing a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bowl of warm porridge in the other. He didn't have anything special in his kitchen at the moment so he was only able to put together a simple meal, figuring that even the scariest man in the world deserved something warm and filling in his stomach to help him heal. That was, if the food hadn't gone cold already by the time he woke up.

Jack wore his usual friendly smile, ready to show the stranger some hospitality when he froze in confusion the moment he saw that the bed was empty.

“Huh?” Jack murmured, his brow furrowing. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of where the man might have gone, but there was nothing.

"Hugh!"

Coffee and porridge spilled to the ground as the cup and plate he'd been holding came crashing down on the ground, splattering everywhere.

Rough hands closed around his neck from behind. The force of the grip was firm, not quite strangling but strong enough to hold Jack in place.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his hair standing on its end. It felt like his heart was caught in his throat, he didn't even dare breathe too hard.

The presence behind him was suffocating, a dense aura of danger which didn't fit with the comfort of the room they were in.

The hand holding him didn’t need a weapon.

It didn't take much for Jack to instinctively realize that he was currently bordering the line of life and death, a primal understanding that this man could end him effortlessly if he choses to.

Jack’s throat bobbed as he tried to swallow but can't, his mouth dry as a desert. It was as if time had slowed down. He could feel his heart thundering inside, each beat thudding louder and louder in his ears as he stood there, unable to do anything but wait.

The silence was deafening. Jack's mind told him to yell, scream loudly for help, but he couldn’t even force out a sound.

Jack felt his breath hitch as the man’s deep, rumbling voice cut through the suffocating silence. The voice was hoarse from fatigue and pain, but it still carried a commanding weight to it as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, each word slow and deliberate, laced with a barely restrained irritation. "Where am I and why am I here?"

Despite the fear pressing down on him, Jack’s mind raced, and something other than terror roused his senses. He sniffs subconsciously, his nose picking up a change in the air. That sharp, metallic tang that made his stomach twist.

"I-I’ll tell you everything you want to know," he stammered. "But please, d-don’t move too much." He could smell it. The fresh, unmistakable scent of blood. "You're hurt, s-sir…"

With those words, the room fell into silence again. The man behind him didn't say anything, as if contemplating Jack’s words, yet the grip around Jack’s neck remained firm. Each second seemed to stretch into eternity, and Jack held his breath, waiting for a response as a cold bead of sweat rolls down his face.

Finally, after what felt like a forever, the grip released. Jack released his breath, silently gasping for air as his feet planted into the ground, trying to steady his balance after that terrifying experience. Slowly, he turns around, stumbling away slightly as he looks up to face the much larger man.

Gavriel stood there, towering over him with one hand clutching his wounded side, blood seeping through the bandages and staining his skin anew. With a shadow cast over his face, his sharp glare intensified.

His dark eyes narrowed, scarred face twisted into a pained look of irritation. Even when injured, such a sight would be enough to intimidate anyone with the sheer menace he radiated.

But as Jack’s heart raced in his chest, his gaze drifted almost unconsciously to Gavriel’s wound. The fear was still there, pressing down on Jack’s chest, but something else was too.

Concern.

The sight of the reopened wound stirred something deeply instinctive and kind in Jack, something that momentarily outweighed his terror. He couldn’t help it. Jack’s eyes lingered more on his injury rather than his scary appearance.

“You’re bleeding again,” Jack whispered, his voice small but genuine, before he presses his lips, meekly looking up to meet the man's eyes. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, his worry winning over self-preservation for just a second.

Gavriel’s glare remained unwavering, burning with a mix of suspicion and impatience. “Answer my questions,” he ordered.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement, returning his focus on the wound, which now had blood dripping from Gavriel’s side, pooling on the floor in droplets.

Jack frowns, a wave of empathy coursing through him, and he took a small step forward without thinking, wanting to help.

Gavriel reacted instantly, his expression souring like a cornered animal. His lips pulled back into a nasty snarl, and Jack immediately froze, eyes darting back to the man's face, his look carrying a clear message.

Don’t come any closer.

Jack was hesitant, but he took a shaky breath and showed Gavriel his palm, trying to show him that he meant no harm. “I just… I just want to help.” His eyes showed nothing but genuine concern, a warmth that was out of place in the tension.

For a moment, Gavriel didn’t move. His gaze bore into Jack with an intensity that made the toon feel exposed but Jack holds his ground, knowing that the man in front of him was in pain and had only been acting out of self preservation.

Jack cautiously inched closer, his hands still raised to try and ease the man that he wouldn't do anything bad to him. The closer he got, the more he could see the strain in Gavriel’s features. It was a silent battle between the pain and the effort to appear unwavering.

Finally, he reached the man’s side. Gavriel's eyes followed, but he didn’t stop him as Jack extended his palm towards him. Jack's hand flinches and hesitates for a second when Gavriel's grip on his wound tightened… Jack steels himself and gently touched the lower side of the man's hip, his fingers being stained with the blood that ran steadily down it.

Despite not being injured himself, Jack still winced sympathetically at the sight. Though Gavriel’s face showed no change, Jack didn’t miss the way the muscle around the injury flinched at his touch.

“Okay… okay.” Jack murmured, his voice soft but determined. His mind buzzed with worry, already trying to think of what he could do to keep the wound from worsening.

With a pang of dread, it finally dawned on him in fullness that this was only the beginning of him having to temporarily keep this dangerous man in his apartment.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a long week.

[This chapter has been edited.] _

Previously // Next - (chapter list)

[funnytulpa]

realization that in this scenario, you are the “greedy thrift store”core that you speak of.,

[baepsays]

How to breakup with your boyfriend ⸻ not a guide.

tw: mentions of food, just NSFW stuff, mention of periods, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), p in v sex, no clear pronouns used for the reader, but written as a fem oriented person, insecurities, trauma responses.

If someone asked you what's your boyfriend like? — you'd say, "GREAT!"

And no it is not to compensate for the fact how badly you want to break up with him. It is infact that he is just great! No complaints really. Gojo Satoru was perfect.

He was kind, caring, attentive, and sweet. He knew when to just sit there and agree with you when you're telling him about this horrible fight you had with your parents, and not give you unwanted and unsolicited advice. He also knows exactly at what time to feed your cats, water your plants, how you like your coffee, which days you do your laundry — how you like them done. Which specific clothes are supposed to be sent for dry cleaning, and he drops them off on his way to work and pick them back up when they are done.

Satoru knows what foods you are allergic to, and which ones you're 'allergic' to (read: do not like to eat)—so he will be the first one at a table full of people you've known for decades, to say something like, "oh this dish has corn? Ah. Y/n can't have corn, allergies you know."

He also knows which detergent to pick up, which fabric softer you use. He knows your period dates and the brand of tampons and pads you use. He remembers your birthday, your cat's birthday, your parents' birthday, your bestfriend's birthday! He gets you your favourite cake to celebrate your promotion. He will watch every bad movie, every gore or horror movie and whatever you want, it doesn't matter if he doesn't like them.

He is one of those people who will cover the head of the car's entrence after opening the door for you so you don't hit your head there, he'll cover the corner and the sides of the table as you move around to find something you dropped and urge you to sit back up, so he can pick it up for you.

When you guys kissed for the first time, he let you take the lead, to make you feel comfortable knowing that you're quite inexperienced. He'd rather eat you out for days on, tongue inside you, on your clit, fingers and all than have you give him a head. Unless you want to! And sometimes you do want to. And when you do, despite his urge to push your head down on his cock, he resists. His hands are always in your hair, pushing it back in a comfortable ponytail. Always complimenting you and telling you how well you're doing. He won't leave marks on you if you don't want him to cause of an important work event, he'll even resist his impending urge to bite you. Even sex is just very sweet, he's the most gentle when pushing himself inside you. He simply worships your body and-

Ugh! You get it! He is absolutely picture perfect.

So back to the matter at hand. Why would you ever want to break up with a person like that? Maybe because he is just TOO perfect. There is a thing called overbearing, sometimes it feels like— he's too overwhelming, and all too consumed with you.

You do not really mind the last part—but maybe you don't want a man who's straight out of fiction! You weren't familiar with such treatment all your life really, this all can be too new. You do see him treating others more roughly when needed. But he's just so delicate with you. Not that it is a bad thing, but sometimes you'd rather he stayed rough around the edges. Being treated like a fragile doll to the maximum does sound great in theory, but in practice it can make you feel pathetic.

You have tried to breakup with satoru on multiple occasions. First you started dropping hints here and there, seeming to be uncertain about your future together —all he'd say is, "don't worry your pretty head about the future sweets, I'm planning accordingly."

You've started picking unreasonable fights with him more often, whether you'd get genuinely pissed off or not, you'd fight him over the most silliest things. "Why did you turn over the pillow on this side?? You should know I don't like this side! How could you not know!? It's like you don't even know me Satoru!"

All he'd respond with, "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I am genuinely so disappointed in myself. I hope you can forgive me please. I'll make sure to know which side you prefer better from now on. Please sit down and let me finish painting rest of your nails."

Yeah so that also didn't work out huh.

So you opted for for this weird strategy. You told him you wanted to get a nose job — to make it bigger! (No shaming anyone for wanting that just saying this is a very silly strategy you've decided upon). Satoru just smiled and kissed your nose, told you that whatever you'd like to do, he'd love you anyway (Insufferably loving man).

Then you stopped reciprocating his kisses, doging them even. You went as far as to try to not have sex with him. But this bastard is too good, and unfortunately for you despite wanting to break up with him you just still really love him. Too much. And he loves you. Too much.

You'd move your head away and he'd cradle your head in his hands and make you look at him, then let this staring contest go on until you just give in and pull him into a kiss. He'd be very sly about his choice of clothing, his touches, and get you all riled up that you can't just help it! "What happened to the sex ban sweets?" Satoru would whisper smugly in your ears while thrusting in you. Bastard! Even trying to control your expressions mid sex to make yourself seem disinterested was not on the table! He's just that good.

And infact satoru is better than what you think of him. And he's much more perceptive than what you give him the credit for. Because he picked up on this little mission of yours the exact day you probably thought to yourself —i need to leave him. You stayed up the whole night one day and silently went to the living room to go on the internet and search up articles about 'how to break up with my boyfriend'.

I wouldn't say he was not hurt. But he also understood you. He understood you more than yourself at times. He understands that you haven't had the best childhood and the best parents around, resulting into this hyper independent mindset you've curated. You'd rather bleed to death than ask for help. And he gets that you can sometimes get in your own head about things. But he was ready to tackle those things head on the day he signed up to fall inadvertently in love with you. And if you want to make excuses to your friends about him being too soft for the reason behind wanting to break up with him—

He can show you rough. As long as he gets to keep you all to himself, love you and cherish you. However you want.

A/n: dividers by— @/omi-resources. To check out more of my stuff click this.

[yandere-sins]

Bad Guy

First Prompt! And I just so happen to find a character that I thought would really match the vibe I wanted to go for. I'm so excited to write for him since I've been mostly keeping out of writing for LaDS, but I do love the characters ♥

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Pairings: Yandere!Sylus x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Dub-Con, BJ, Gagging, Non-Con Touches, Lingerie, Reader is a virgin and inexperienced, Pet names, Degradation, Nicknames), Mention of Body Issues, Forced Captivity, Swear Words, Long Post Prompt: @sintember Innocence - What would you do to preserve it, what will be done to tarnish it?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Come now, you make me look like the bad guy."

Legs quivering, you could barely stomach looking down at yourself. It didn't help that you felt how skimpy the outfit was with every move you made. Felt the strings that kept the fabric together pressed into your skin, bit you as if the shame was not enough harm. But looking up and straight ahead was not an option you had either. Not when you knew the smirk on the face that awaited you. Knew about the hungry, predatory sheen in Sylus' eyes if you met them head-on.

Why you? Why did he choose you? You kept wondering as you stood in his bedroom, barely two steps from the man who had ruined your life. You couldn't think of a good reason as to why he needed to keep you to himself, lock you up like an exotic animal, and demand to be the only one to put their eyes on you. Maybe if you had been especially pretty or incredibly rich, his infatuation would have made sense. But it really didn't. None of his actions made sense.

And by now, you didn't even know if you wanted to cry or be angry with him anymore.

The sheer, triangle coverings did nothing to hide, only to expose your nipples, strained as you felt the nubs getting harder. The fabric rubbed them a little more every time you breathed, lungs expanding. Bitterness overcame you as pleasure turned to shame turned to helplessness. You could only stand there, both hands reaching down to hide your privates, all while you heard the man in front of you chuckle.

"Glad to amuse you," you muttered bitterly, biting your lip so hard it tore beneath your teeth. Wearing an outfit that split right around your pussy, giving even easier access than it gave a full view of it, was proof of how you couldn't win against him. If he wanted to, he could be sneaky and uncaring about what you wanted, and forcing you to wear this was yet another challenge he was winning to hold above your head. Sylus had long begun to chip away at any pride or dignity you had, finally ready to deliver the final blow. But although you wanted to break down and cry, hide from the embarrassment, your feeble fighting spirit refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down and beg for your clothes back.

You'd be giving him exactly what he wanted—power.

Power over you. The upper hand in this month-long dispute. You had sought him out for a deal, an equal exchange. And he had broken that deal the moment you put your trust in him just so he could keep you for whatever twisted reason. People had warned you of deals with the devil, but you had been too stupid to listen, now finding yourself in a situation too horrifying to speak of. Captivity.

It wasn't like he made you work to earn your keep. There were three meals provided to you every day, and Sylus tried to join whenever he could. He bought you expensive clothes, accessories, and entertainment, always asking what you needed, but never reflecting on his actions, not even when you told him he couldn't buy your love. There was constant surveillance, and the outside was a threat to your life, so the windows and doors stayed locked tightly. You had no means to escape, only able to stay indoors and wait like a good pet.

"But you are the bad guy here, forcing me to wear this."

Your addition seemed to make him thoughtful, a small hum escaping Sylus before he extended his arm towards you. It was a bad idea, you knew that. But if you refused to take his hand, he'd simply come to get you, and you couldn't afford to struggle looking like this.

Embarrassed, you forced one hand away from hiding what should have never been exposed in front of the likes of the leader of Onychinus, someone you thought would be interested in what you had to offer in exchange for the help you needed. Now, it almost seemed like all he wanted was your body, although you doubted it. You never liked seeing yourself in the mirror, but you didn't know anyone who enjoyed seeing themselves. You just thought it was normal not to feel like you were special, and yet, Sylus made you wear something that hid nothing of your insecurities from him.

A shuddering breath escaped you as his fingers wrapped around your hand like a snake suffocating its victim. But he moved on quickly from the threatening touch, twisting and turning his palm until it slithered beneath yours, fingers entwining before he gave you a jerk, forcing you towards him.

You couldn't help but wonder what changed in that one month, although you were lying if you said you didn't see the change in your captor. You thought he was out for ransom at first, keeping you just for the sake of exploiting more out of you than what you were willing to give. Then you caught him watching you, eyes almost softening as he observed. He'd done more than enough touching and manhandling over the course of the month, but he never forced you to wear lingerie and expose yourself.

Admittedly, your fall wasn't graceful as you were pulled forth. Your legs staggered over the sudden jerk, your free hand coming down just behind Sylus's shoulder. One of your legs hit the edge of the couch, knee bending with nowhere else to go until your shin was settled next to his thigh. You sacked forward, the strength in your torso handicapped from the awkward position, but it was better this way. Anything was better than to look into his face.

"The bad guy, eh? So far, I've been pretty nice to you. I have no idea what you mean."

Sylus played with the skimpy fabric around your waist, rubbing the material between his fingers as if to gouge its value. He was tugging at the strings, threatening to undo the triple knots you had made to keep it all together. All while you were shivering from the cold and the hatred he invoked inside of you.  

Anger flooded your mind, and you threw your head back, ready to let him have it! Too late did you realize he baited you, forcing you to look at him despite your refusal, the grin on his lips disgustingly victorious, his expression almost besotted now that you met his eyes. There was strength to be drawn from your embarrassment, fury brewing in the pit of your stomach. Your free hand curled into a fist, and you fixated your gaze on his stupid face, ready to bash in that smirk he loved to give you so much!

"Not quick enough," Sylus lamented as he caught your fist in his hand, closing around it in a painful grip. You winced, and he brought your arm down, twisting it behind your back while squeezing the other hand he hadn't given up on holding. "Now, now, let's play nice. And here I thought you liked my gift."

Slinging his whole arm around your midriff, Sylus suddenly pulled you on top of his lap, your legs losing balance, and forced your hips down to settle on top of the bulge in his pants. The second your crotch met his, you felt nauseous, the helplessness making you desperate to get away. You hated every second of this interaction, hated this man for all the abuse he put you through. Was this what he had wanted all along? A sex toy? Why wait this long if he intended to defile you anyway?

Even though you tried to be still as a board, when Sylus bent you backward, closely following behind, you shivered as his hot breath grazed over your nipple. You stared down in horror as his tongue slid out, only the tip of it flicking over your nipple before he watched the nub bounce back into place and, using the flat side of his tongue, pressed down onto it. You shuddered, biting your lip again to hold back a moan.

The room wasn't cold, but his breath felt incredibly hot through the mesh fabric of the coverings, his tongue almost like a hot iron pressed to your skin. Sylus looked up, and you saw the agonizing sight of yourself in the reflection of the red irises, exposed and vulnerable. He smirked, opening his mouth just far enough to take your nub between his teeth, pulling it towards him as you sucked in your breath.

You couldn't help it. Couldn't help the pleasure zapping down your spine and between your legs, the mewl that escaped you as Sylus's teeth slipped off your nipple and bit into the mesh fabric. Your reflection looked so pathetic, but he seemed pleased as he kissed your abused nub, as if to appease it after his teasing.

"I heard something interesting," he muttered against your chest, trailing kisses from one side to the other, briefly burying his face in your body and letting out a content rumble. "Heard you've been wholly neglected, poor thing."

"What do you--"

Giving the hand behind your back a firm shake, warning it to stay in place, Sylus released it, only to drive his hand down to your ass. He slipped lower as you piped up, only to silence you again with his touch. It made you realize fairly quickly what he meant, his fingers curiously slipping through your slick.

"That's not true at all," you argued, closing your eyes and shying away from his keen gaze.

"Really now?"

Feeling his lips curl into a grin above your other nipple was an unfamiliar torture, the fabric of the cover transferring every movement dutifully, heightening your sensitivity. "So the reason you are so wet is because you are experienced. Is that what you're saying? You're not a virgin whose anticipation is making you eager, Kitten? Did you secretively hope I'd help you release some of the tension?"

You felt his fingers apply pressure to your cunt, threatening to slip inside and forcing you to shoot upwards, recoiling from the touch. The throb of his cock beneath your slit vanished, and you cursed your body for aching, almost longing to return to his lap. But how could you? At this rate, he was truly going to take your virginity from you, even though you tried to act as if he wasn't.

It was such a stupid sentiment to cling to the concept of virginity, especially in the situation you were in. There could be potential gain by losing it, yet you were holding on to it like a lifeline. Considering that, in one month, you had lost all kinds of things that made your life yours, it was understandable that crossing this line scared you. It was a small rebellion that would prove you weren't completely lost to this man's whims if only you could keep it.

"No! No, wait!" you huffed as his hold on you tightened, trying to keep you in place so he could continue evading every little piece of privacy you still had. If only for your sanity, you had to at least try to conserve it. You weren't keeping yourself for marriage necessarily, but having your first time with the man that kidnapped and imprisoned you would definitely do you no good.

"I'm... I'm unwell! I'll do something else for you, but not this. Let's not go there... Sir."

Halting all his movements, Sylus's brows furrowed, and he leaned back, looking up at you. Of course, you didn't miss how he tensed when you called him Sir, but even though it cost you a lot of your pride to call him that, it was the most you got for a reaction. You could only assume he could see the fake, nonchalant expression you forced, perhaps your embarrassment too. But you hoped it would deter him. When you looked back at him, he almost seemed... concerned. Hopefully, that would be in your favor.

"Are you sick?" he asked, both accusatory and worried at the same time. As if he was offended, you didn't tell him.

"No, I'm... Actually yeah! I feel sick! I got cramps, and I'm sure my period is just around the corner--"

"Darling," he interrupted you, and your heart rate quicked at the sly grin playing around his lips. "You're so adorable when you try to lie, but I'll have you know that a bit of blood has never stopped me.

Tell me the truth, or I'll assume you're just nervous."

Fuck, you thought to yourself, chewing your stinging lip again as you thought about what to do. Sylus returned back to your chest, pressing his lips to your unattended nipple again before sucking it in for a tease. You drew in your breath sharply as you thought about a lesser evil to deter him from taking your last strand of dignity, the one thing you could hold over his head. But it would cost you greatly to protect your virginity, and you almost wavered in your determination to keep it a secret.

"I'll... I'll suck you off."

Sylus stilled, and you saw his eyes widening. For a moment, no one said anything, and although it was hard to endure his inquiring gaze, you forced yourself to face it head-on, showing him you meant it. One of his eyes felt especially exposing, the red so much more vibrant. But just a moment later, his lips curled into a wide smirk, freeing your nipple as he drew back.

His expression was almost soft as he gazed over your body, all the way down to where your hips met. You saw the longing in his gaze and felt the throbbing of his cock against your pussy, but then he looked up at you again, and for a moment, you felt adoration wash over you. Approval, genuine desire.

And it was gone right the next second.

Before you knew it, Sylus lifted you off his lap. You yelped in surprise, only to sink to your knees, his legs spread widely to comfortably accommodate you between them. "Alright then," Sylus chuckled. "Show me what you got."

Another wave of shameful heat rushed into your head as you watched the cocky bastard wait for you to stick to your words. Excitement and impatience radiated from the way he looked down at you to the tapping of his food next to your thigh. He'd not wait forever for you to act, but he was enjoying your hesitation.

Swallowing hard, your mouth had never felt as dry as it was now. With jittery hands, you reached upwards, seeing the stains you had left on his trousers and feeling the heat underneath your palms. But before you could unzip Sylus's pants, he caught your wrists in his grip, clicking his tongue at you, chastizing.

"I'm sure you know a more creative way to start this."

You were disgusted by the thought, but even a virgin like you could imagine what he wanted. Lifting your butt off the floor, you placed your teeth around the zipper, slowly dragging it down. Sylus chuckled, but to your surprise, when you looked up at him angrily, he let go of your wrists and looked away, hiding his full face from you. Was he ashamed? Mocking you? Or did he enjoy seeing you opening his trousers with your teeth that much?

You used the moment of freedom for your hands to unbutton the pants on top, completely taken aback when without the restraints of underwear, his cock sprung free, surprise and horror overcoming you. "You're not the only one who was anticipating this," Sylus clarified, and although he still hid his face behind his hand, the gleam in his eye was as mischievous as ever.

Bastard, you thought, but a small part of you wondered if he had been walking around in just his pants all day or if he changed out of his underwear before meeting with you. It was a completely scientific question of course! You needed to know how long he anticipated and planned this. If his sudden carnal desire had been a surprise or a long time coming, although you never thought it existed.

"Are you giving up already, Sweetheart?" Sylus tore you out of your thoughts. "Less scowling, more sucking."

For the record, you didn't do as he instructed because he told you to. You did it because you wanted to get it over with. You kept telling yourself this, over and over, even as you brushed your fingertips over his length. But there was one problem. One you couldn't tell him about.

You had no idea what to do.

Of course, the general concept of a blowjob was familiar to even you, but how were you going to pull it off? Was it enough to take it into your mouth? Did you need to kiss it? Would it taste bad? Could you even put your lips around it?

There was no time to panic and let Sylus find out you were an inexperienced virgin with no idea what you were doing. His cock bopped impatiently in front of you, waiting for your caress, and you had to please it regardless of not knowing how.

Reaching up, you wrapped a hand around it, steadying it with your grip. The stiff feeling surrounded by soft skin was almost mesmerizing, leaving you in a moment of awe before you returned to reality. You expected something rougher, more like its owner, but the heat and eagerness spoke of vulnerability more than Sylus's usual domineering ways.

There was a click of his tongue from above, and you knew your time was running out. Giving him a coy glance from below, you leaned forward, steading yourself on Sylus's thighs to kiss the throbbing cock in your hand. You felt his leg tense beneath your palm, then relax, and when he neither mocked nor pushed you away, you concluded you were onto something.

Kissing a trail up the shaft, you smoothed over his cock, taking note of the ridges and veins that seemed to pop out the longer you were giving it attention. Soon, you reached the edge of the tip, the form of his shaft dipping into itself for a moment before forming the bulb on top. It was so fascinating that, for a moment, you forgot the situation you were in, your tongue dipping out to lick along the edge out of curiosity.

Sylus drew in a sharp breath, and you looked up with more inquisitiveness. For the first time, you saw an expression akin to pain on his face. You wondered if you were hurting him somehow before satisfaction hit you. Red was drawn along his cheeks, and you realized it was pleasure and not pain; the firmness of his expression was merely showcasing that he was holding back. How gracious.

Slipping the flat of your tongue over his tip, you soon brushed your lips over it. Cock jerking, the tender flesh jumped against your mouth, smearing a strange-tasting liquid all over it. Precum, you thought to yourself, recognizing that this meant you were doing something right.

It almost got you excited.

You remembered the way Sylus had played with your nipples, the teasing and sucking. The way he forced you to feel pleasure despite not wanting to, and it gave you an idea of how to return the favor. If it worked on you, it might just work on him the same way! Sure, he wanted this, but you'd not make it easy on him!

Wrapping your mouth around the tip, you began to suck gently, drawing your lips lightly back and forth and wetting the top to make it more smooth. Sylus groaned, his right hand coming down to cup yours on top of his thigh, pressing it into the muscles there.

"That's it, Kitten," he mumbled, and you felt his hand brush up your neck and into your hair. Immediately, you drew back, staring at him with your mouth forced shut. His cock bopped in complaint, and Sylus's expression hardened, but you challenged him with your glare.

"No forcing it," you established, getting great satisfaction from his annoyance. "You will let me do it."

"Fine," he spat out. "Hope you got a bit more than that, though. Otherwise, we'll be here forever, Sweetheart."

"Fuck you," you bit back, not waiting for him to respond before putting your lips back around his cock. This time, you went deeper, his tip brushing your teeth as you weren't used to his size yet. His hand sunk back to the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands of hair there. You could feel him testing out the boundaries of your rules, applying pressure softly ever so often. Still, after you drew back one more time, he gave up, the warmth of his palm remaining unmoving at the back of your head.

"No fun," he complained, but his words had no bite. They were followed by a soft groan, Sylus's head rolling to the side as he watched you work your way down his shaft. It was more strain than you expected, his cock seemingly never-ending, even when you forced it deeper than anything ever before. You'd not accept defeat, not let him win this round, especially after coming this far!

But it was nasty. Drool dripped down your chin, and your sucking became more and more sloppy. You barely had enough strength or training with your tongue to keep up an even pace, and your desperation to get this over with made everything quite boring, evident by Sylus not reacting like you thought he would while you worked your mouth over his cock.

"Is this your first time?" he finally asked, and you grimaced, mouth full of cock and exposed anger burning in your eyes.

Sylus smirked, and you knew that he knew.

"Did you really think you could hide the fact from me that you have no idea what you're doing? Come let me help."

Without waiting for your response, he pressed your head forward, tears shooting to your eyes as the newly reached deepness pried your jaw open. "Now, use your tongue and lick upwards all the way. Slowly."

You hated this! You hated him! You hated this man so much!

"That's it, Kitten."

Pulling you back by the roots of your hair, the strain disappeared, but all the drool and fluids pooled inside your mouth, making you cough. Sylus showed you no mercy, even after seeing you struggle to keep yourself together.

"Now the tip again, just like the beginning. You need to alternate sometimes."

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth again, willing the pain away as you began to suck and lick at his tip. The next time Sylus pushed you forward, you braced yourself, although he didn't go as deep, instead bopping your head back and forth. As much as you hated following his instructions, you did the same with your tongue as when he forced you to take it in completely, moving the muscle along the sides while Sylus directed your head.

This time, he let out a loud, content sigh, his head falling back. His pressure never stopped, though, sometimes slamming you forward to dangerous depths again, other times letting you rest at his tip. There was a steady increase in speed, and you felt the control slip from you pitifully as he worked you up and down his shaft as he pleased. Were you just a sex toy to him? That's what you wondered as the first tears fell, your reflection so pitiful in Sylus's eyes.

Although, he seemed ecstatic for some reason.

His nails dug into your hand still on his thigh as he pushed you steadily deeper with every thrust of his head. Soon, you felt the tickle of the fabric of his pants against your nose, his cock taking up all the space in your mouth as it throbbed. You, too, dug your nails into his thigh as you heard Sylus breathe heavily, knowing all too well what was going to happen now.

You couldn't believe he'd be so barbaric, knowing it was your first time, as to force you to take all of his dick inside as he came. But with a slight thrust of his hip and his hand pressing down at the same time, you were caught with his cock throat-deep as hot splurts of semen sprayed everywhere. Sylus grunted as he came, and you couldn't help but splutter, gagging on the length shoved down your throat, and almost fainted from the lack of air as he waited until the very last drop of his cum to be emptied inside of you.

If not for his cock stuffing your mouth, you might have thrown up from disgust.

He was breathing heavily while your lungs barely shuddered. As if he regained clarity, Sylus suddenly pulled you off him, and his cum spilled from your lips together with his cock. Tears, semen, and drool all dripped from your pitiful face, and you two stared at each other, both a little less lucid than before.

The hand at the back of your neck slipped forward, thumb grazing over the side of your mouth before he slipped it inside. A grin spread over his lips; this time, he looked nothing short of insane from the satisfaction as he pushed the fluids back into your mouth, seeing the remnants of the havoc he wrecked. But then his expression grew soft, and you hated to admit it, but this was probably the gentlest look he had ever given you.

"Good job, Darling."

You choked as you held back a sob. The situation was so maddening it was almost funny. Just seconds ago, it felt like he'd kill you with his dick, and now he was praising you, looking at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this world.

But you didn't have the time to lament. Not even a moment later, you were pulled from the ground, set down pussy to cock on his lap, feeling the sticky heat from his crotch matching your own. You hadn't even noticed your own arousal, the way your body found appropriate to act. It only shamed you more.

"You were so pretty down there, doing amazing, Darling."

Next thing you knew, he had toppled you over and laid you down on the couch beside him while your eyes widened. You snapped your legs shut immediately, although his hands roaming downwards snaked their way between them. Looking at you, unblinking, a victorious smile played along Sylus's lips before he effortlessly pried your legs apart, not even breaking a sweat.

"We said only sucking off!" you mewled, part scared, part frustrated. What else did you need to do to make him stop? Why was he doing all of this? Why did it have to be you?

Resting his lips on your thigh, Sylus kissed it briefly, eyes closed, appearing almost reverent as he peppered some more kisses.

"You said that," he finally muttered against your skin, and all the hope to make him see reason in the end was lost with just a few words. "I am going to return the favor now. Can't let anyone think I'd not take good care of my Darling."

"You are so mean," you whispered, tears now falling freely. You didn't care anymore if he saw them. If they could soften his heart—good! If not, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to do what he wanted anyway; there was nothing you could do but to let him.

"Sure, I can be mean," Sylus chuckled, but his expression darkened. It was unlike his usual cockiness, and it infuriated you. How dare he feel upset about your comment! How dare he wallow in your misery! Your pain wasn't his to share! He didn't get to feel bad from seeing you hurt by the actions he inflicted!

So why did he look like you were the one hurting him?

"After all..." he mumbled, leaning forward until his face hovered over yours. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you wondered what he could find in your terrified gaze. How far he could really look into your soul and if that would deter him or if he'd still choose to ignore your feelings in all of this like he had ever since he locked you up.

"You made me the bad guy, Darling."

[frannyzooey]

Veneration

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Rating: E

a/n: another piece from Ao3 — enjoy! ❤️

—

“Where is she?”

Marcus stalks into his chambers, his white cape billowing behind him, a guard following in his wake.

“I asked for her, sir. I’m not sure where she is. She –”

“Just find her,” he growls, frustration etched on his face.

The guard makes a hasty apology, slipping from the room. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

Candles fill the space, pools of shadows gathered around the edges. The fabric on the bed is rich and decadent, every piece of decoration in the room dripping with luxury.

It’s jarring, after so many months living in a battle tent.

A table filled with food in abundance, he bypasses everything on it for the jar of heady wine. Pouring himself a cup, he drinks deeply.

He thumbs at the slice on his neck, smearing blood on the tips of his fingers. His hands are used to being drenched in blood, crusted with it, the firm hold of a sword nearly molded to the creases of his palm.

It took everything he had not to raise it to the fucking pup who cut him. The one who is so careless and callous, he threatens to burn down everything Marcus has worked for.

All of his protection, wasted. His entire career, played with for sport.

Where is she?

He rips the pin off his tunic, tossing it to the side — he should be more careful with it, but he’s in no mood to be careful with anything. The laurel comes next; the stupid fucking pageantry. He’s a general, a man made of sweat and blood and his fingers tear at the clasps of his armor, but he quickly gives up, pouring another cup of wine. Beautiful and untarnished, the armor is all for show, just like the adornments they covered him with.

It felt good to ride through the city and wave to the people he has been campaigning for months, but he could do without the show of it all. He recognizes the need for celebration, and he’ll gladly give it to them, but he wishes he could do it in his actual armor. The one he defends their city in. The one nicked with a thousand dents from a thousand swords. The leather that fits to his body like a second skin, and he wished for it during the ceremony more than ever, wanting to present himself to the city like the soldier he is.

He sighs, the weight of the day resting heavy on his shoulders. He’d hoped he’d feel more relieved after his conversation with Lucilla, that maybe he’d finally have someone useful he could persuade to act – and yet, the conversation was fruitless.

Frustration throbs behind his eyes, and he closes them, rubbing at his brow.

“You’d think someone who just had a parade held in their honor would look a little less plagued.”

At your voice, his head snaps up. He watches you slip into the room, servant girls on your heels.

He shakes his head, a stern look on his face. “Alone.”

His command is clear, and you obey, dismissing the girls with a slight wave. All for show in the first place, they turn and leave the two of you.

“Where have you been?” he asks. “I’ve been waiting to see you since we entered the gates.”

You walk closer, bending to pick his cape off the floor. “You know I’m not allowed up there with them.” You finger the rich fabric, fighting the urge to bring it to your nose just to inhale his scent.

A scent you’ve missed for almost a year now. A scent that was pressed into your bedding before he left, a scent you used to have memorized from the soft divot just underneath his ear. Oil and sweat and a heady fragrance that clung to his curls and clothes - one you’d been longing for since he left you behind for the promise of North Africa.

“I know,” he answers. “I thought you’d come to see me sooner. Or that I would have seen your face along the route.”

“Would you even have remembered what it looked like?”

It’s childish, the question. You know it, but a barrier comes up automatically, placing protection around your heart. You were so sure of your bond until you saw him climb those steps, taking his place alongside the Emperor. A tiny prick of doubt at the display of his status bled within you, and though you want nothing more than to run to him for reassurance, you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“How can you even ask that?” he asks lowly, hurt and frustration buried between his dark brows.

He steps closer, and yet you withhold, standing your ground.

You did see him on the route, hidden in the back of the crowd, watching from underneath the hood of your robe. The second you heard he was approaching the city, anticipation stole the air from your lungs, so strong that you had to stop your chores. A thousand different scenarios of reuniting with him swirled through your mind, all of them abruptly stopped by the remembrance that you couldn’t greet him. Not in public, not where anyone could see. You watched him instead from the depths of the crowd, feeling pride as he rode past.

There, he looked like a shining god. Here, in front of you, he looks older.

Aged in a way that makes him even more handsome, there is new gray along his temples. More, along the curve of his jaw. The candlelight catches strands that mix in with his dark curls, and you take in the wrinkles the line the edges of his eyes, the ones that crease his forehead. The one between his brows was there before he left, only it’s deeper now - something you know has to do with the way you haven’t touched him yet.

“This finery suits you,” you muse, fingering the edge of his armor.

He scoffs, catching your hand in his. Bringing it to his mouth, you watch with rapt attention as his lips mold to your knuckles, one delicate kiss after another.

“I hate it,” he mumbles against your skin.

You smile. “Then let’s remove it.”

–

He’s patient as you help, but barely.

You can feel the tension radiating off his body as you unclasp his armor and lift it off, the heavy leather set to the side. His eyes stay trained on you as you guide his thick tunic upwards, discarding it onto the floor. He stands in his underclothes for a moment before you sink to your knees and undo the tie at his waist, letting them fall as well. Bare now for your eyes, you inspect him from your position, your hands running over his skin.

It’s familiar, yet not: new wounds that have healed, new scars for your touch. He stirs under your exploration, twitching along his thigh, but you don’t give into the touch you know he wants - not yet. You used to spend hours exploring his body: working oil into his tired muscles, memorizing the firm planes of them born in the training yard. He’s just as thick and strong as you remember, maybe even more so now.

Standing, you turn to retrieve a strigil from his bedside table, undoing the clasp of your tunic with one hand with your back facing him. It falls from your shoulders, slipping onto the floor in a puddle of cloth and when you turn to face him, the hunger in his gaze at your nakedness floods you with arousal.

“They bathed me before the parade,” he says dismissively, glancing at the tool in your grip.

You had a ritual before he left: he would summon you to his chambers, and be waiting for you. You’d help him undress, and sometimes you’d bathe him, but sometimes he liked it better this way - your small hands smearing rich oil along his tanned skin, your fingers working it in. The deliberate strokes of the strigil swept along the lines of his muscles, the tool gathering all the grime and the dust and the sweat from the yard. Never enough that it disappeared though. You smelt it on you when you slipped from his chambers later that night, always pressed into your limbs, his seed trickling from between your thighs.

Assuming he wants the same veneration tonight, you’re surprised when his hand flicks out faster than you’re prepared for, his grip relentless on your wrist. It tightens, and he pulls you towards him, your back to his front. The heat of his body is flush with yours, the weight of his cock thick along the curve of your ass.

“How long I’ve waited to have you,” he breathes into your ear, his tone a growl that sends a shiver down your spine. The scruff along his jaw scrapes against your skin, and you melt into him. “Why are you doing this?”

You drop the stirgil on the tiled floor, the sound barely heard over the pounding of your heart. Letting yourself lean against the thick, broad plane of his chest, his hand lets go of your wrist to skate up your side, roughly palming the weight of your breast. He groans when he touches it, a relieved one that blends with your softer moan, and his other hand curls around your front, cupping you firmly between your thighs. His fingers reach for the curve of your entrance, his teeth scraping along your shoulder when he finds you wet. His touch lingers there, his fingers spreading you to find more evidence of your need.

There is a tension that still vibrates from his form behind you, hidden underneath his skin. He’s holding himself back just for you, and though you want nothing more than to put aside your hesitation and your pride, it’s actually easier to do it this way. To encourage him to take, so different than the sweet murmurs you’ve wished for in the night, less vulnerable than the tender touch of his hands.

You want it to hurt, just like you’ve hurt, and you know he also needs this right now.

Your hand rests upon his, sliding it up.

Up, up, up until it circles your throat.

He flexes his grip, his fingers pressing into your pulse that thrums underneath his touch. You give him silent permission — permission to be the one he wants to be with you sometimes.

Permission for him to be rough, like he is in battle.

Permission to take you as he needs to take you.

Tilting your head to the side, you whisper against his scruffed cheek. “I’m yours, General.” The title gives away the game, your slip into character. “Tell me what you want.”

Your words set him alight, his body moving just how it does on the field: in control, precise, power emanating from his stance when he tugs you away from him and pushes you to your knees. He blocks out the light above you, his fingers curling around your chin to pull you closer. Your hands splay on his sturdy thighs to catch your balance, and he steps forward, crowding you.

“Open your mouth.”

An order, like he was born to give.

Dutifully you do, and he wastes no time feeding himself between your warm, wet lips. The thick tip of his cock brushes against your bottom lip, the weight of him smearing across your tongue the deeper he gets. He tastes so good and so familiar, so musky and masculine, and your tongue runs along the underside of his shaft, curving to the skin as he hardens even more. You slide it along every ridge, every vein of his thick cock, and when he pulls back just before pushing himself deeper with a groan, you swirl your tongue around the rounded tip.

Going back for more, you do it again.

Your hands slide up his thighs to his hips, your fingers digging into the skin, and you pull him deeper, encouraging it. He groans loud and shameless, your cunt throbbing when you look up to the light flickering over his skin. It looks so rich and real , your hands slipping backwards to palm the curve of his ass with a greedy grab.

The release of want pours from you both, his body still tight with tension but a different type of tension: not frustration, but need.

He gives in, thrusting into your mouth harder, flickering candlelight catching the drool that gathers around the edges of your mouth and slides down your chin. Your cheeks hollow, his thumb fitting into the indented curve. Your eyes shut tight, his cock pushing against the tight ring of your throat. He holds there for a moment, and then pulls out, his is cock glistening and he strokes it while you catch your breath, but you’re already grabbing for him before you’re ready.

“I want more,” you beg, your voice hoarse. “Take what you need.”

He strokes himself faster, harder, his stomach tensing.

“I know you’re holding back, but don’t. Take anything you want from me. I can take it.”

Those are the words that do it. He growls, his hand palming the back of your head to force you back onto his cock. He pushes it past your lips as far as it will go and then some, not stopping this time when he reaches your throat. He feels the tight, constricting curve of it, and pushes a little further still, thickening at the strangled whine you let out into the dark curls at the base. Swiping the hair from your face, he cups your cheeks in his hands and angles your face to turn up towards his own.

Then, he fucks.

His pace is relentless, brutal, his cock slipping into the tight fist of your throat with every thrust forward. Stars dance along your vision, your chin soaked with spit. Desperation radiates from him, his grip tightening on your face, your fingers digging crescents into his hips and he groans, wanting more pain.

A familiar ache, one that he’s used to. Something to distract him from the deeper pain of your hesitation when you first walked in the room. Deeper still, the ache he felt for you while he was gone.

“You have no idea how much I missed you. How much I missed this.” Every word of his confession is mixed with his heavy breaths, with soft grunts from the back of his throat.

You hum, a tiny frown pulling between your brows. You missed him just as much, missed this just as much — the way he emanates authority, the way he bends and molds and positions you just like his soldiers, to do as he bids.

He pushes you further, shedding the frustration and pent up tension of the day with every harsh stroke. He feeds it to you, makes you swallow it as it pours from him into your waiting mouth and an ache blooms in your throat, your jaw tense with the effort of trying to stay open wide enough for him to fit. Slipping your slim hand between his strong thighs, you cup his heavy balls with a tender squeeze — a touch that makes his head tip back as they draw up.

Harder, faster and then he doesn’t give you any warning before he fists your hair and pulls you off his cock, stroking it with a slick, rapid beat to come on your chest. Your collarbones, the swell of your breasts.

More, when you start to smear it into your skin like oil, pressing it into your skin.

When he’s finished, he sags with release — though you know he’s not done. His hands reach for you, pulling you up off the floor and then finally — finally — he kisses you.

Fevered and desperate, his mouth open to taste yours, his tongue sliding against your own. Your fingers thread through his curls to keep him close, and his own dig forcefully into your skin, as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold you tight. They splay to slide up your back and down again, stretch to cup the curve of your bottom and he lifts you to carry you over to his bed. He means to drop you there so he can sink to his knees, but when you cling to him, he falls with you, his weight settling over your body.

This — this is what you dreamed of every night he was away. This is what you held onto, this is what you missed. This version of Marcus that no one else gets. Not the stoic General, but rather the tender touch of his calloused hands. The slide of his body against yours, the murmurs of his adoration poured along the column of your neck.

Your legs wind around his waist, your hips canting up and he groans into your mouth at the sticky smear you leave on his stomach. More than ready for him, desperate for it.

“My love, I need a minute.”

My love. The endearment fills your heart until tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and you pull him closer, wanting to be buried underneath his bulk. Winding your arms around his neck, you keep his mouth pressed against yours, only to frown when he pulls away.

“I need a minute,” he repeats, his head bending to brush his mouth along your throat. “But let me indulge myself in the meantime.”

You watch the muscles in his thick shoulders shift as he holds himself above you and bends his head, taking your breast into his mouth. It’s a greedy suck, his hand pushing the soft weight of it up so he can fit more. His teeth scrape against the peak, and then he’s moving onto the other one, giving it the same attention while you moan underneath him.

Down further still, he presses kisses along your belly, against each hip. Your thighs open wider, making room for him. A part of you expects him to tease you like you did him, but he doesn’t — he settles in, hooking his arms under your thighs and spreads you wide right before he bends to devour.

Your hands rest upon the top of his head; your own version of a laurel resting on his curls. No adornments, no finery, no pristine armor and gold.

Your eyes close, savoring the slow, wide licks of his tongue. The devotion he gives your cunt with every slick, firm slide.

Not the General that the city fears and adores in equal measure - just Marcus, bending the knee for you.

[ciciyup]

Phantomhive manor (+ Gregory Violet) X Fem! Reader time traveler headcanons.

Summary: You are a time traveler and you have arrived in the Victorian era, how would you fare with certain characters if they met you?

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Ciel Phantomhive

In one moment he was drinking his tea and enjoying his chocolate cake and the next Sebastian had arrived with you at his side. Everything about you seemed to confuse him, from your unusual and very inappropriate clothing to your casual and bland way of speaking.

At first, he only let you stay in his mansion so he could study you, for some reason you seemed to know more than him and even more than Sebastian, and the more time you spent there the more you seemed to confuse him with your strange ways.

The inappropriate clothes you were wearing seemed to not want to take them off while you complained that the corset and the amount of things in the dresses were uncomfortable, which made Ciel roll his eyes more than once, on top of that, in your comments you added that the clothes you were wearing were “the fashion” and “the trend” when Ciel only saw in them two pieces of fabric like a poorly covered window added, in his opinion, to your bad style.

The way you spoke was so strange, that way so casual and without any grace, but at the same time confusing to hear you say words that he had never heard before. He had bothered to look up those words himself in some books, but then he left the task to Sebastian, who soon informed him that those words did not exist... At least not in his time. On top of that, it seemed that you did not appear in any kind of paper that informed about your birth or other important things that should be in people as soon as they are born, which made Ciel stop taking it as a bad move and see the possibility that you really were a time traveler, since Sebastian had ruled out the possibility that you were some entity like a demon, angel or shinigami by not feeling any of that in you.

It was really surprising for him, he would not deny it, to see such a strange and at the same time so useful device. You called it 'cell phone'. It was surprising for Ciel to see a device that could take color photos, see himself on video moments before while doing something random and be able to watch it and replay it. The fact that music came out of that device surprised him quite a bit too, not only because of that, but because of the huge difference between the music of the future and that of his time, it had certainly been a big shock. Surprisingly, some of the songs you taught him he ended up liking, the ones with a soft and pleasant rhythm, and the fact that you put those 'headphones' you had shown him where the music could be heard better turned out to be a great experience.

He seemed to start to trust you more, your conversations were pleasant and you seemed to have a very different kind of thinking than he was used to seeing in people, it was nice in a way. You seemed to have a more open mind, more liberal, without prejudices or hypocrisy.

Maybe with you there Ciel could take advantage of certain things to have an advantage over his adversaries in the business and political sense, after all he was an earl and it was always good to be one step ahead of everyone, if it was three steps then it would be even better. Although he was always on guard and cautious while you seemed to tell him certain things, he took mental notes of what could happen or happen in the future if he didn't change something in the present. It was all very intelligent and strategic on his part.

Finding you had been a great important piece for his game and being aware of more things that he probably wouldn't get to see, but he was pleased to have been lucky enough to have you appear. He just wished you could stay a little longer to be able to appreciate a vision as different and at the same time as pleasant as yours.

Sebastian Michaelis

Surprise was to say the least. This human really had something. He felt curious? Fascinated? You were so strange, your way of seeing everything was so different. Sebastian felt surprised because you even surpassed him in subjects he didn't know about such as politics, future wars, economics. It was fascinating and perhaps also, in a way, a blow to his ego. Why did this human come out of nowhere with all the answers up her sleeve, in such a way that she managed to surpass him in knowledge? Still, Sebastian was an extremely intelligent being with centuries of experience, so even if you had advanced knowledge, he wouldn't feel intimidated. Instead, he would see this as an opportunity to learn and expand his own understanding.

While he lets you settle into the mansion at his master's request, as the days passed, he would soon bring out his sarcasm when he saw your attire and clothes, dropping some sarcastic comments, but always with a polite tone to sweeten.

Seeing the device in your hands and turning it on would surprise him at first, being somewhat impressed by the great advancement of humans in technology and since he is a very intelligent supernatural being, he would quickly learn to use the cell phone and any other device you had with you. He would even dare to take your phone with him secretly just to study it, sometimes to take pictures, videos and other times to listen to music, noticing the great change between one era and another. The photographs and videos would be what would attract his attention the most, enjoying filming some cat that appeared in the mansion and then watching it on the phone.

Despite enjoying certain things, Sebastian would evaluate if you represented a potential threat, being cautious, but without raising suspicions on you. He would always prioritize Ciel's safety so he would stay close to you for a certain amount of time, even if sometimes you wouldn't notice. Coming to the conclusion that you didn't seem to be dangerous or an enemy to Phantomhive, which made him become more friendly and even offered you hospitality while you stayed at the mansion.

He would take advantage of your advanced knowledge to improve efficiency and security at the mansion, as well as a chance to learn about humanity and how they had advanced so much over the centuries. He would come to enjoy the conversations if they interested him enough, you don't always meet a time traveler so he had to get something out of it, it was sure better than hearing anyone else talk about the same old topics.

You were different from what he was used to, clumsy, closed-minded and boring people who had nothing new to offer, but since you had arrived it seemed like you had awakened something in Sebastian that he hadn't felt for centuries. He hoped you would stay a little longer, it would be a shame if he had to go back to the same boring emotions.

Finnian

He was very excited about you, although at first he seemed confused, especially by your unusual clothing, his excitement made him see beyond. Seeing artifacts he had never seen before amazed him, his eyes shining as he took the first picture with so many colors and heard the music coming out of it. Surely asking you for your phone a few times so he could take lots of pictures of himself with big smiles and doing different things or anything in general that he found nice to capture, even leaving the phone without storage.

“Can I really talk to someone who is on the other side of the world right now?” Finny would ask you in surprise when hearing you explain about calls and messages. But surely the game apps would also keep him very entertained, especially the pet care and gardening games, spending so much time there that he would already know how to use most of the things. He seemed to be amused by the fact that you would randomly throw out words that he had never heard before, some of them amused him so much that he would keep them in his mind and would often repeat them, even while there were people there, causing them to look at him in confusion. His enthusiasm could be higher than the looks they usually gave him. Finny liked to learn new things and having met you would definitely continue to fascinate him even after days.

His face would light up as you explain to him the simplest thing for you it would be surprising for him like the fact that there was something called 'internet' or 'television' that made everything easier in everyday life like a blender, bed warmer, cars. Whatever you told him it seemed like the boy would explode with excitement.

He would definitely be mesmerized if you showed him series or movies, whatever was moving on the screen would surprise him, but if they were fantasy movies he would surely enjoy them more seeing the special effects and thinking about how everything looked so real. He would definitely like to know all the musical genres, especially the most lively ones, but at the same time with a pleasant rhythm, trying to imitate modern dances, laughing at his own clumsiness and certain dance steps that made him laugh.

It would be enriching for both of you to have met him. Finny enjoyed your company and everything he managed to learn at your side, but in addition to that he also liked to teach you about his own time by telling you first-hand details and even making you see certain things from a new perspective. Being with him was undoubtedly a breath of fresh air and both of you could have a new look at the world.

Snake

He would be mostly confused by your unusual way of speaking, puzzled by words you used to say at random and not have a specific meaning, it would be difficult for him to understand. Unlike what one would think, even though Snake is a very shy boy, he would not feel ashamed to see you in a different type of clothing or in lesser cloths, since having been in the circus before he lived with people with little clothing or more "revealing" clothing, so although it would still be somewhat surprising and embarrassing for Snake, it would not be on a large scale.

Seeing a phone, something that did not yet exist back then, would make him feel particularly intimidated and think that it is something dangerous, staying cautious while you show him the device. He would be surprised when you showed him videos and people or anything in general moving inside that small device, even his snakes could be attracted and watch while they communicate through Snake asking questions about the device.

What he might like the most would be snake documentaries and anything about snake care. When you used to lend him your phone you would probably find him in the mansion's greenhouse surrounded by his snakes while his eyes were glued to the screen as he watches videos on snake care as well as precautions for when they shed their skin, their habitat, best food, even on wikipedia looking up different things to take care of himself and his friends.

Telling Snake about your knowledge and things that would happen in the future would make him feel intrigued and at the same time fearful thinking about what thing could cause something else to happen and prevent it from happening even if it was inevitable anyway. Also, he would like to know more about how people have evolved, if they were kinder to others, if there wasn't as much fuss when they saw someone different, if they accepted certain things more easily.

Seeing you want to teach him music with those big sound devices that you called 'headphones' would make him feel a little self-conscious, but finally when the music plays his surprise can be seen in him as he feels something he had not experienced before. He would have preferences with some genres more than others, the ones he might like the most would be ambient music, classical music and jazz.

He could get used to your presence in the long run. You seemed to be one of the few people he enjoyed the company of, and he learned more things with you by his side. He wouldn't deny spending a nice afternoon with you while you tell him how much everything had changed over the years and Snake would gladly listen to you.

Gregory Violet

First of all, why was there a girl at Weston College if it wasn’t for some special event? Secondly, he would be very intrigued, so he would take you out of public view if he had the chance so you wouldn’t cause any fuss at the time. Although he might initially keep his distance between you due to being generally reserved, his curiosity would make him approach you little by little.

Despite your unusual attire, Gregory would remain just as reserved, not judging anything about you as he silently analyzes you. He probably wouldn’t care much about how you look or what you wear, perhaps he would at first glance, but then he would remain discreet. He would be interested in the unusual and aesthetically different, wanting to capture the essence of your appearance in his drawings. You would be a source of artistic inspiration and he would want to draw you, but being so reserved he wouldn’t ask you to, at least until he gets to know you more deeply.

Seeing a phone for the first time would certainly leave him in awe. The ability to see color photos and color videos and even be able to take them yourself would leave him speechless. He would be more attracted if you showed him art-related photos with lots of colors and different things like that. Speaking of art, he would definitely be fascinated with the amount of things he could learn on different internet sites about artists’ paintings, drawing ideas, biographies and even reading any pdf book and using apps to draw and create without using pencils or hands would be extremely intriguing to Gregory.

Watching stories told through moving images and sound would be another completely new experience. He might be especially interested in movies, series or documentaries that deal with artistic and historical topics. He would be very intrigued and have many questions about how the device works and how you can see anything through it, be it movies, books, letters, numbers, photographs. How a movie could be created and what kinds of devices would be required to film and make the special effects.

If you had been there long enough for Gregory to become more comfortable, he could draw you, maybe he would ask you or, more likely, he would draw you without you noticing or telling you. He would like to capture your “futuristic essence” and keep those drawings to remember you if the time came when you had to leave. He would also make separate drawings of the electrical devices you had told him or shown him, wanting to remember them too.

It would be a unique experience for him and his memory to have met you and learn about all the new advances of the future generations. The fact that you seemed to have a more open mind and no need to judge would have made him enjoy your company more during the time you shared, after all you had not labeled him as weird or different like most people in his time and he appreciated that.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

[caramelkoo]

before we shatter — jjk [two]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 5.1k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : ANGST, eventual fluff, mentions death of a loved one, mentions of Alzheimer's disease, strong language, mature, cheating (not by the main characters), jungkook will piss you off but he's deserving of love too :((, slight making out but nothing else. i think that's it, please mention if i missed anything.

a/n : OH MY GOD IT TOOK ME FOREVER !!!! here it is my pookies <333 i hope this will heal the past trauma that part one caused yall omfg. i love you so much and send an ask if you want to. You're so so cherished.

Jungkook’s fingers press on the digital lock before it beeps, indicating the door has been unlocked. 

“Babe, I’m home” 

He expects his girlfriend, Nicole to say anything in response but, on the contrary, all he gets is pure silence. Not a single person breathing the same air as him inside the house. His eyebrows crease in utter confusion and he wonders if he she went outside in order to run any errands.

Nicole is a fashion designer who he met when she was appointed to design his concert outfits for the group’s previous world tour. At first, there were some stolen glances, eye contacts, and innocent touches but when he found himself looking for her in the room full of people, it had to be more than that. 

At the risk of sounding like a nervous wreck with zero experience with women, Jungkook had walked back and forth approximately 46 times before he took up the hatchet to ask her on a date, to which she’d smirked and whispered a yes in response.

Listen, Jungkook is a confident man. Add a confident yet adorably shy woman beside him and you have got yourself the perfect mix of charisma and charm. Not to say that he was not totally enthralled by her. He genuinely wanted to get to know her better and that’s not only because she was confident, of course. 

Ordinarily, he’d find her on the couch going through her designs or making herself the 50th cup of coffee. It all really depends, but tonight the eerie silence surrounding him makes his stomach hurt. A nagging feeling arises in his chest and he hopes everything is okay. 

He releases a breath and walks further in towards the bedroom. Who knows, she got tired of working all day and went in there to take a nap. 

Much to his disappointment, just as his hands grip the doorknob, a moan comes from the other side of the wall and he freezes. 

“You’re so good to mommy, aren’t you?” 

He can’t mistake the voice even if he tries to. He hears it all day, every night by his side. 

Nicole has complemented him in every spectrum of their relationship. She’d been equally successful, equally fun and adventurous, and matched every desire and aspirations of his.

Tow bodies, one soul if you will.

Turns out, she lagged behind on the spectrum of honesty. 

Knowing he can’t be just standing there and not find out who she’s been fucking behind his back, he twists the knob and pushes the door open. The moan which earlier caused his heart to momentarily stop now turning into a full blown scream. 

“What the fuck?” 

You might prefer to think that Jungkook was the one to exclaim that, but no. Sitting on the bed with wide eyes and no clothes is his manager, Tae moo. Next to him is Nicole, trying to cover herself up with the help of the duvet as if she’d not spent the majority of nights sleeping beside Jungkook in the very same state after he’d made love to her. 

“Jungkook, baby. I can explain” 

His jaw goes tight, voice turning shaky. “Get out of my house.” 

Fierce eyes are pointed at the manager the whole time and he doesn’t even bother to look at Nicole. As if someone had set his non-existent pants on fire,Tae moo hurries and plucks whatever fabric he can from the floor and rushes outside. 

When Jungkook finally glances at Nicole, she’s got the same look on her face which she does when she wants something from him but can’t get herself to form the words. Desperate and pleading. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tone acidic when he asks, “Why are you still here?” 

“What?” 

“Why? Did he fuck the common sense out of you?” 

She blanches at his words, clearly not expecting him to talk like that. “Please don’t talk to me like that. I told you I can explain.”

Jungkook can’t help but let out a chuckle infused with bitterness and disbelief, “What could possibly justify you fucking my manager, Nicole. Were you lonely? Did I not give you enough love and attention? Was my dick not enough for you that you just had to jump on another one?” 

Every word that comes out of his mouth has an intention of hurting the woman in front of him. Standing there when Jungkook tries to figure out any possible cause of this betrayal, he registers something.

While Jungkook was thriving because of the fact that he has a woman who supports him and keeps him on his toes, holds him when the world gets mean to him, the said woman was using him to feed her ego. He had been indispensable for her to gain the popularity that was left for her. The truth that he'd been a ladder all along for her in order to climb till success hits him like a torrent and an ache throbs through his chest. 

“Why would you need another designer when I’m here?”

“Jungkook c’mon, all my friends are gonna be there. Don’t be a spoilsport.” 

“Do they not let you post your girlfriends on your official instagram profile?” 

Everything falls into place like a missing piece of puzzle fitting into space. Additionally, Nicole had not even gotten close with any of Jungkook’s friends’ girlfriends and he’d decided not to dwell on the fact for his own peace.

Arguably, some people just don’t click and that’s fine. Except, those people don’t denounce other women behind their back. Her adulterated personality was oozing out of her and he managed to miss it. 

“I don’t know, babe. Her dress was too revealing. Take it from a fashion designer when I tell you she was not fit for that dress” 

“Isn’t she too touchy with her boyfriend in public? I mean I understand you’re in love but jeez” 

It is often said that when you’re in love, you’re unable to see your lover’s flaws because you get blinded. Blinded by their beauty, their charm, and their affection towards you. Safe to say, Jungkook can relate. 

“Get out”

‘Please just liste-”

His pitch goes higher. “RIGHT.NOW” 

Subsequently, he had been off the market for two whole years. Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t escape the endless amount of impolite and not to mention personal questions about his relationship during the interviews. 

“Jungkook, you were seen coming out of several restaurants and clubs with a woman a few years back, but we’ve not seen her for a while now. Is there something you’d like your fans to know?”  

“The ladies out there are having a field day because it seems our favourite superstar, Jeon Jungkook is single again” 

“Is there any chance of us getting to see the mysterious woman again?” 

Fucking exhausting. 

Then, one fine day, he met you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Maybe, the trust issues made home inside of him after he found his ex-girlfriend naked and sweaty on his bed with his manager. Maybe, you can blame it on the fact that he had still not gotten over the agony caused by his past relationship.

It’s almost like the words that come out of his mouth throw him two years back to the very same room where he tasted the vile taste of betrayal. 

“Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?” 

The sentence is so absurd and disgusting that you can’t stop your hands from connecting with his face with a hard force. His face turns sideways as his skin stings because of the slap.

“Watch your tone with me, Jeon Jungkook.” The words are barely a whisper as you gulp, flying into a rage and hoping he eats his own words. 

You’re half naked, your hair's a damn mess and you probably have a swollen face with boogers in your eyes, but at this moment, you have to stand up for yourself without caring about any of that. You can’t be the person to take first hand beating of something you haven’t even thought of doing.

When he looks back at you, you wish someone was holding you because your legs feel weak. The look of betrayal and anger is long gone and now the only thing that exists behind those big doe eyes is hurt. A pain which makes you want to disintegrate. 

“Baby, I didn’t mean-”

“You know what, _____? I would have seen this coming. I was a fucking fool to even wish for a normal bond with someone without some shit happening to us.” 

You watch him storm out the door, slamming it so hard it rattles on its hinges after throwing the blue file on the bed. Your feet remain frozen to the wooden floor and you hope he comes running back in, says he’s sorry and he wants to talk it out. 

“Some shit”. He just called the whole situation shit.

A terrible labyrinth of anger, guilt and grief traps you as you find yourself wishing that a tight hug could fix the scattered pieces and mould your relationship back into one beautiful piece.

The words on the report stare back at you as they somehow feel more painful now that your boyfriend is aware of them. He knows he’s got into something he hasn’t signed up for and the thought that before you could even explain everything to him, before you could even tell him that you would rather die but hide anything let alone information as huge as this, he’d walked out. 

Placing the file on the nightstand, you go through your usual morning routine. Take a shower, change into fresh clothes and take your supplements.

Everything is blurry to you, the feeling of loss lingering deep in your chest, slightly aware of the fact that physically, Jungkook is nearby, mentally? You’re not so sure.

Despite your better judgement, you walk towards the kitchen with the motive of making your breakfast and you find Jungkook looking for something under the couch with two suitcases standing in front of the door. Was he gonna leave without letting you know? When did he even pack?

You take a deep breath and release, knowing exactly what he is looking for, “Are you looking for your glasses?” 

He straightens back up and holds your gaze. There’s a bit of delay before his answer reaches your ears. “Yeah um, I can’t seem to find them anywhere” 

A minuscule smile forms on your face, “They’re inside the bedside drawer. I kept them there cause you know, you tend to lose them” 

He doesn’t share the humor as you feel a pang in your chest intensifying. It’s suddenly so quiet that you can hear your as well as his breathing. And it’s uneven. Has your home always been this quiet? 

You clear your throat, eyes finding the suitcases behind him, “Heading somewhere?” 

He does the same and looks back at you. “Yeah uh, you remember Jimin calling me yesterday when we-,” he pauses, “Well, I have to go overseas to promote the album and get done with some other formalities” 

You flash him an understanding smile, feeling utterly shattered inside and not sure if you should ask him as to why he didn't bother to let you know or just let it slide. The question is right at the tip of your tongue but thinking better of it, you gulp it back down. 

“Of course. How long will you be gone?” 

He slides his hands inside his front pockets and sighs, “Probably a week. You can’t be precise when it comes to promotions.” 

“Alright,” you halt, “Uh.. do you want me to get the glasses for yo-” 

“No, I've got it.” He says as he excuses himself. When he comes back, the glasses are resting on his nose making him look even more beautiful than he already is in your eyes. 

A faint memory of you wiping his glasses for him with your slip dress comes to the surface and you hide a smile.

You watch him round the kitchen counter and pick up his jacket. As he grips the suitcases with both of his hands, the gleaming bracelet catches your attention. 

What are the odds of him preparing to live without it on his wrist? What are the odds of him preparing to live without you? 

You’re not surprised when he begins walking out the front door without saying a word. But you know you have to. You have to let him know that you don’t have any intention of giving up on him. 

With your palms turning clammy, you speak and prepare yourself for whatever comes back as a response, “Wait” 

His feet come to a stop, but him not bothering to turn around does nothing to ease your ache if not adds to it.

Swallowing, you continue, “Whe-when you come back, I want to talk it out. I want you to know that you mean too much to me for me to hide such a major information from you and one that has to do with both of us at that. Yes, I held back for a while but that’s just because I wanted to forget,” the damn tears are threatening to fall yet again, “I wanted to feel for the last time what it's like to be in your arms, your warmth before I break your heart and mine in the process,” Your fastening heartbeat causes you to grip your cardigan in a tight fist, 

“Can I at least get a hug?” 

His shoulders visibly go tensed as he admits over his shoulders, “I’m afraid if I so much as look at you for more than a second, I will break.” 

With that the front door opens and closes, leaving you with nothing but warm tears. You try your fucking hardest not to take his statement as face value but god you want to curl up and die. Although, you know none of this is your fault. If only you could see what the future holds, everything could have been much more bearable. 

You’re scared you’ll lose everything— him, your happiness, your future together. 

You’re scared you’ll burn.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

For as long as he can remember, Jungkook’s childhood had been filled with vivid memories of his parents’ kisses, them being madly in love with each other, dancing in the kitchen, planning picnic dates and thousands of giggles. He had been blessed with a mother who loved his father more than Jungkook has ever seen someone loving the other person, and his father reciprocated the love tenfold. 

Along with the love he also had another emotion wrapped around his heart in a tight grip. Fear. Fear that all of that would dissipate. You know, how sometimes when you’re too happy, there’s just a fucking voice inside of you screaming, “It won’t last long”? 

That’s exactly what he used to feel. The root of the fear was a mystery to him and he even tried to forget about it, thinking it might be just a pipe dream.

Except, it was not. 

And then one day, like a bolt from the blue, Jungkook’s dad was gone.

He still remembers the day very clearly when he saw his dad’s body being carried away on a stretcher, heavy and cold. Meanwhile, he just stood there with fat tears streaming down his cheeks, his mom arms stopping him from running behind his father.

Then, if that was not enough to break him, he lost his mom. Not physically but mentally when her mental state started to deteriorate over the next few years. Before he knew it, his mother totally forgot about his identity as well as his father’s. Apparently, that left a scar far too deep.

What’s it like to forget the ones you love?

Even though Jungkook had made peace with the fact that his mother will never return the same way he’d known her for, a small part of him still hopes. After all, what’s so wrong in hoping? 

His feet drag him down the long hallway filled with wooden brown doors until he stops and stands before one. He clears his throat as he watches the woman just lie there and stare into nothing in particular. 

When he gains her attention, a smile breaks out from her lips, “There you are. I knew you would come, Jimin.” 

Jungkook runs a palm over his chest, a futile effort to soothe the ache.

“It’s Jungkook, mom. Your son” 

“My son? How do you know my son?” The vivaciousness long gone from his mom’s voice.

He swallows and gets further inside the room. He doesn’t try to push it because he knows for a fact that even if she recognizes him today, if tomorrow he comes back he’ll be either Jimin or Namjoon or some random man he’s never heard of. 

“How are you doing?” 

His mom sighs, a pout on her lips as she looks down, “Still the same. I asked the nurse for a cup of tea hours back but she seems to have forgotten about it. That witch.” 

He chuckles, sitting himself on the stool. “I’m sure she’s bringing it in for you.” 

Her eyes move over to the window and settle on the maple tree outside. Just watching it. Jungkook ponders if she remembers chasing him under the maple tree when he was a child. It’s his favorite memory.

“A kind woman stopped by a few days back. God knows what her name was but she had this.. sad look in her eyes, as if someone had snatched something away from her and she’s broken over it. I wonder if people look at me and feel the same amount of sympathy that I did towards her that day. I’m not a fool, I know I’m sick. I could be dead by tomorrow for all you know,” she releases a small sigh as Jungkook waits for her to continue. 

Except she doesn’t and in that moment, Jungkook just…. knows. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook’s eyes have not left the silver bracelet on his wrist for a while now, brushing it with his fingers lightly as if that would help him rectify his mistakes. He wants to slap himself whenever he remembers the look on your face when those cursed words left him. You looked so broken, so tired.

The woman his mother mentioned is you, it’s so obvious. Something about the way she told him about you made him want to swallow a fistful of iron nails. Fuck even that would hurt less. For a second he saw himself at her place and that made his insides twist in such a way that he didn’t understand. 

What if one day he just wakes up and doesn’t remember you? What if it all just disappears? Her memories, your smile, your sweet giggles, your moans, your touch. 

The thought itself makes him want to rip something into pieces not to mention rip his own heart into pieces. 

Jungkook can hardly walk through the veil of darkness which fills the hall. He holds his phone screen up for light, calling out for you.

“Honey, you home?” 

No response. With his heart in his throat he starts moving towards the bedroom. Gripping the doorknob, he twists it as the door clicks open. Before he can start panicking because of the empty room with nothing but his own stuff scattered around, a cough reaches his ears. 

His brows crease into a frown, confused. “_____, I’m starting to worry.” 

Another cough follows, making his breath pick up its pace. Following the sound, he finds himself standing outside the guest room’s door. Wasting no time he pushes the door open as he watches you on the bed covered in layers of blanket with sweat all over your forehead.

He rushes to you in a quick second, heart beating fast. “Hey, hey baby,” voice coming out as gently as possible, “You okay? Why are you here?” 

Your eyes land on his face as you sniff. “This is what happens when you eat your weight in a bucket full of ice cream on a Sunday night.” 

Jungkook’s expression flashes with relief, grateful that it’s nothing more than an unfortunate cold. 

“You should leave.”

He blinks, “What?” 

“You're more contagious to the cold than anyone I know, baby. Go. I’ll be fine” 

To be honest, he could give zero fucks about catching a cold right now. He holds your gaze for a long moment before standing up. 

A quick look of hurt passes through your eyes, but you recover just as quickly. 

“If you think I’m gonna leave you here in this state then you underestimate my love for you, honey. I don’t know if you remember, but you wanted us to talk once I come back and I want you to get better and get talking, alright? God knows how I managed to have survived two weeks without you by my side, but now that I’m here, you’re going nowhere out of my sight.” 

“Jungkoo-”

He interrupts, “As for those reports, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care if we can’t have kids normally as most people do,” he runs his hands through his black locks, messing them up as he continues,

“In every sense of the word, I just want you. I want you right here with me, holding my hand and making me the happiest motherfucker ever. We’ll try something else. We’ll adopt, we’ll go with IVF, we’ll-” 

“Jungkook” 

“Yeah?” 

“Breathe, baby” 

So he does as he fills his chest with air, taking a moment to relax. Reaching over, you take his hands in your soft and warm ones, caressing his knuckle tattoo.

“Do I have the permission to be selfish just for one more time?” 

He offers you a weak smile, “You were never selfish to begin with, my love.” 

Your hands pull him towards you until he’s lying down by your side. He wraps his arms around you, holding you so close you’re almost one.  

Jungkook presses a kiss on your clammy forehead followed by one on the tip of your nose, “You okay?” 

“I am now” you whisper, letting your head drop weakly forward to pepper kisses across his hoodie clad chest. 

“I’m gonna speak now and I want you to listen, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Your fingers clutch his hoodie in a small fist as you begin, “I lied about babysitting Coco and I’m sorry about that since I know we promised to never lie to each other, but I had a reason for that. I was at the hospital when you called. I knew you would be at the studio and I didn’t want to put you through that when you’re working,” 

You look up at him, eyes full of love and affection, “When I was young, my mom showed me an orange butterfly which I immediately fell in love with. I played with it for hours before I went back inside the house. I let it go, wishing it would visit me again. I had to let that butterfly go, Jungkook. Because I knew I couldn’t keep holding onto it. I was gonna do the same with you that night. I had it all planned out, I was gonna let you know about my infertility and then I was going to ask you for a breakup. Thankfully, I didn’t. Do you know why?”

Resigned, Jungkook shakes his head as a teardrop falls. 

“Because some things and some people are worth staying for. You’re worth staying for. I was stupid enough to think that I would survive without you, that I would be able to weather the storm without you by my side.” 

You’re sobbing now, sniffing as your fingers wipe Jungkook’s tears away. 

He cups your cheek, his fingers brushing featherlight on your skin as the most tantalizing caress. “You don’t have to. I’ll never leave you, baby. You’re it for me. I can’t breathe without you, _____. Do I want a family one day? Of course, Do I want it without you in it? Over my dead body. You’re my present and I very much have the intention of making you my future too. With all due respect, but something as trivial as that report is not gonna stop me from doing that.” 

A heavy moment of silence hangs in the air as he just stares at the love of his life, he didn’t even realize when the power came back, illuminating the whole guest room.

You are the first one to say, “I love you.” 

“I love you the most.” he declares as his lips brush with yours with immense gentleness and love. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Yeah honey?” 

“What do you think about calling our daughter, Ji woo? If we ever have one?” your voice comes out muffled because of the way you’re snuggled against his chest. 

His lips stretch into the biggest grin ever, chest filling with pride because the woman who he loves the most in his life asked to name the girl he’d love the most in his life after a woman who loves him the most in her life. Even if she doesn’t know it. 

“I’d love that.” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Few years later 

“What-” you gasp as your body goes tense for a quick second before relaxing against Jungkook’s chest. His arms circling around your waist, making you feel cozy and at home. 

“You really need to stop scaring me like this.” 

“Why? I can’t hug my wife now? I know you secretly like back hugs.” 

Wife. The word still holds the same love and power as it did the first time he asked “Will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world, honey?” 

You let your head fall back against his chest and look up at him, “You know what? I do.” 

“I know you like the back of my hand, wifey.” he says, leaning down to drop a light kiss on your forehead. 

“I love it when you call me that, but right now you’re distracting me.” Your hands start running over his forearms, caressing. It’s like a habit for you. You need to touch him whenever you can, feel him close to you as much as possible. He’s always so warm and soft, it makes you all fuzzy on the inside. 

His mouth nibbles on your ear, making you shudder. “I don’t think so. Besides I barely get to have you for myself these days.” 

You sigh and just let yourself relax in his hold. The past few days have been hectic to say the least and nothing can heal you better than being in your husband’s arms. “How was practice, baby?”

Jungkook has been working on a new album resulting in him spending most of his time in the studio. You miss him, of course, it’s only normal, but you’re also beyond proud. He took a momentous break from his work the same year you guys were facing issues and he didn’t so much as leave your side, promising to always stick around. Through thick and thin as he said in the wedding vows. 

He ignores your question and sucks on your neck, making you groan. 

“Jungkook” His lips find yours and he steals a kiss, hands pushing under your sundress as he caresses the back of your thigh. Goosebumps break out all over your body and you curse at the fact that he still holds so much power over you. Your legs go weak and your clutch onto his shoulder for support. 

As he lets your lips go with a loud pop, you open your eyes and look at him. 

“What are the chances of me getting lucky tonight?” he asks, hands still under your dress, now grazing your ass. 

“It-”

Before you could answer him, the sound of tiny footsteps running towards you both reached you. And there she is, your prettiest five year old letting out the biggest shriek after she sees her daddy all but falling down from enthusiasm.

“Da!” her feet pick up the pace as she runs towards him with arms wide open. 

You detangle yourself from your husband’s hold and he takes a step back.

He crouches down and catches your little girl, Ji woo, in his arms. Groaning as she crashes into him. “Ooff” 

“Da, I missed you. You’re coming to the picnic with us, right? Mommy says you are.” 

You watch him laugh and peck her chubby cheek. “Of course, sunshine. Nice daddies never miss picnics with their daughters, do they?” 

As they talk like their goofy selves, you just take a moment and watch. By the grace of all things good, you’ve had the chance to visit almost everywhere in the world, but this right here is the best view. After musing about it, you and Jungkook decided to go with IVF and you’ve not regretted it ever since. Hands down the best decision of your life. 

Waking up and seeing your husband with your daughter sprawled on his chest as she lets out tiny little snores, watching her fall in love with the same eyes as you did, going on family dates, going to his concerts wearing the same outfits and whatnot. It’s more than enough for you to thank your lucky stars that you stayed. 

“Mommy, daddy says he’ll not steal my strawberry this time.” 

You offer her a gentle smile. “Daddy is a little liar, baby” 

She lets out the cutest gasp ever, cupping Jungkook’s face with her tiny hands. His face is so big in her hands it’s almost chucklesome.

“Is that right, daddy?” 

He playfully narrows his eyes at you as you stick your tongue out. “Mommy’s just jealous because you love daddy more. Now, what do you think of making those bracelets together?”

Ji woo’s face lights up like the fourth of July and she starts squirming like a little butterfly in his arms, flapping her arms. She’s been asking for her own bracelet after seeing the silver one on Jungkook’s wrist for years now. He suggested custom making one and she got so excited one would think he got her a pet dog or something. Although, he’s considering that too. Nothing surprising there.

When it comes to Ji woo, Jungkook is a loser in love. You’ve never seen him looking at another girl the same way he looks at his daughter. Besides you, of course. It’s innocent, pure and all things perfect. 

Before they both leave, she gives you a kiss on the cheek, covering her eyes when your husband pecks your lips.

Your eyes find the butterfly tattoo on your wrist, sometimes seeing it in your daughter. Excited, lively and someone who makes you want to wish it never disappears, the only difference?

Jungkook’s not afraid that everyone will let him go and you’re not uneasy about how you will have no reason to not let go. 

You’re healed.

He’s healed. 

taglist (ilusm guys) : @woodarevil-blog @kookooquette @busanbby-jjk @chaelvrx @kaiparkerwifes @elithenium @vixensph @carriereadsbooks @mageprincess7 @queenbloody @hinatsu @parkinglot-nights @kookiescutie @ggukieskookie @jimineepaboya @cuteipat @dolligguk @bookstoread199 @chokoopie @lovingkoalaface

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny!! Got a Halloween special request here!!

May I have a chex-mix and mummy hand pies with a side of haunted lemonade and white claw served by Franco Colapinto, please?💕💕

halloween bakery - bakery menu

the spooky menu is still up till nov 2nd! there are tons of spooky prompts for you to choose from! thank you to those who have submitted, i'll be working on them ASAP in the lead up to halloween!! thank you and i hope you love this! i'm surprised by how much people have loved my colapinto fics since i started posting them! so thank you <3

chex-mix: "did you go as a whore this year, or did you just forget a costume?" + mummy hand pies: "be careful of the full moon!" + haunted lemonade: size difference/kink + white claw: slutty costumes served by franco colapinto (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, slutty costumes, couples costumes (red riding hood & wolf),

franco waited for you to get ready for the halloween party you two were attending. the two of you were out in austin for the grand prix weekend and got roped into an early halloween party.

he leaned up against the wall near the bathroom and knocked on the door, "are you almost done, amor? did you get stuck in the costume?"

you laughed on the other side of the door, "you think so low of me, honey." you opened the door and franco caught sight of what you were wearing.

franco's eyes went wide at the sight of you. oh, there was no way you were leaving the hotel room like that.

"what happened to the other costume?" he asked as he held onto the doorway to the bathroom and leaned in towards you. he remembered it vividly, it was still a red riding hood costume, but it covered a fair bit, "did you want go as a whore this year, or did you just forget the costume?"

you replied, "it was too hot for austin, so while you were on the track. i went out and got something else. i mean, we still match." you didn't see the problem with it. as if you didn't look like you were doing a porn shoot in an hour.

he raised his eyebrows, "amor. c'mon." he gestured, "i was supposed to be the big bad wolf. the whole, 'be careful of the full moon, little red', and you were supposed to be a little more... covered up." he picked at a stray strand of thread for the costume. it wasn't even sewn right.

"it's fine, honey." you tried to move past him to get your heels on. but franco took you by the waist and pressed your backside up against him.

he bent up against you and kissed at an exposed part of your neck. he kept his arms around you tightly and said in a soft time, "you don't get it, my love. you look like a whore, and i hold you in higher regard than that. i don't want others getting the wrong idea about you." he rubbed the front of his jeans up against your backside.

"yet you're turned on by it." you remarked then moaned as he pressed further against you. you whimpered a little and he felt a shudder through him.

"of course, but i'm your boyfriend." he pressed you further to him. showing off his size and strength compared to you. he would've made a good big bad wolf if he wasn't so painfully hard for how scantily dressed you were.

"well, i have nothing else to wear." you remarked. and then a gasp left your lips when franco tore the skirt right at the seam.

he remarked, "you could've bought something a little more expensive." then let the fabric fall to the floor. he then snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your slit over your panties.

you looked like a whore as he pleasured you and eventually he grabbed you to bring you to the bed. you ended up on it and he got everything else off of you. you tried to joke, "my what big teeth you have."

he grabbed you by the hips and bent you almost in half. you sticky slit on display for him. he replied, "i wouldn't be worried about my teeth, amor." then rubbed his barely clothed cock against your slit. your wetness stained the front of his dark blue briefs.

you swallowed, you knew franco was big. he had always been big compared to you. when you gave him your virginity, he spent an hour fingering you so he wouldn't bruise you. but tonight he knew that tonight he didn't care if he bruised up your insides.

he got his t-shirt off and his briefs, both of you were naked as franco kept you bent and your pussy on display for him. he felt a thrill of excitement run through him at the sight of you.

he sank his cock into you as he kept you in the mating press and you felt excitement run through you. your brain went numb for a moment as you felt the pleasure course through your body. it was hot, painfully hot. franco did things to you that you never thought anyone else could do. he drove you mad and made you hot all over.

"franco, fuck." you shifted a little bit. it was a bit of a painful position, your knees were to your chin as he fucked into you without much softness. he felt the zap of possessiveness through him.

he wasn't going to lat his beloved girlfriend dress like that for halloween. unless it was in the bedroom where no prying eyes could see. you could still dress nice for halloween, but you didn't need to show off almost every inch of skin.

"see, if you wanted to excite me. then you didn't have to buy a costume. i think the best thing you can wear for me is nothing. maybe my number on your back, but other than that. i want you in nothing. i want all your clothes on the floor while i fuck you. you're mine, amor. all mine."

his words excited you, you knew that he turned you on greatly. and you did the same for him. even if you didn't know, the statement was made clear by how hard he fucked you.

in the lavish hotel room in austin, the high of a decent weekend followed by a party that you were now late for. he continued to thrust against you, he could feel his pounding heartbeat in your ears as he made a pretty mess of you sweet pussy. you wouldn't second guess how he felt about you by how he made you feel.

your larger boyfriend with his heavy cock made you feel like you were on cloud nine. for a brief moment you thought about not going to the party. you could stay in the hotel room and see how many times you could do it before you were simply too exhausted.

he held onto your hips as he continued to fuck you. the pace was feverish. he groaned, "you look perfect. better than in that costume." he pressed further into you and you felt excitement race through you. you felt hot all over and as did he.

franco excited you in sexual ways that you never thought were possible. he was the kind of lover that brought out parts of you never thought were possible. before you met, you never thought about filming yourself pleasuring yourself. but with the distance between you two for so long, he eventually had a vast collection of photos and videos.

everything from you pleasuring yourself with a toy, to showing off your nude body to him for the camera. and of course, softer, more tender moments. like you in his clothes and wearing the bracelet he gifted you when he signed to formula one.

currently that bracelet looked nice on your wrist while you held onto the white covers under you. franco groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts. he felt just as excited as you did. he knew he wasn't going to last long.

"shit. franco." you groaned as you squirmed a little bit which only prompted franco to press further into you. have you in a proper press as his cock moved in and out of you with a feverish pace.

you were the first to cum, you clawed at the sheets. no proper words left you lips, but you did made a sweet moaning noise that sent shocks through franco as he continued to batter your sweet cunt. it was all so hot and it made the driver only fuck you harder. he didn't last long much after, he made sure every inch was inside of you as he finished inside of you with a heated groan.

his pace stopped and the you two looked at one another. franco dropped your hips and pulled one another into a heated kiss. hands traveled across each other's heated bodies.

"you're so fucking hot." he groaned.

when he laid out next to you, he draped an arm across your chest and leaned in to kiss and suck at the nape of your neck. you knew he was decorating you with his marks. and that were was no concealer in the world that would cover the dark marks on your skin.

-

you both attended the party. you went last minute as a williams racing fan. which wasn't hard, you just raided franco's closet. the shirt was baggier on you and the sleeve of the t-shirt went to your elbows. the best detail of your costume was the massive hickey he left on you.

he simply said about the matter, "ah well, you'll just be a fan who got lucky tonight." <3

[sttoru]

boob obsessed!gojo please!!

oh absolutelyyyy !

tags. gojo satoru x female reader. breast play, teasing, semi-public, satoru’s v touchy, uhh cum play, mention of blow job, boob job.

satoru , who you have labelled as one of the most shameless people you have ever dated. you’ve known the guy had a thing for your tits the moment the two of you had gotten intimate.

his big hands were all over the swell of your breasts, long fingers kneading and squeezing the flesh. you can always spot the way his pupils dilate whenever he gets the chance of touching them. if you squint well enough, you might even see him drooling a bit whenever he notices the flesh of your breasts and how it bulges when the two are pressed together. and if it isn’t his hands touching those beautiful tits? it’s his tongue.

“mm, god—need ‘m in my mouth. need to taste those tits of yours, princess. c’mon. lemme suck on those nipples.”

satoru , who’s favourite position to cuddle is when he’s laying on your chest. his head will rest between your breasts, one cheek squished against the flesh and fingers usually tracing the shapes of your tits. if you’re not wearing a bra of some kind, he’ll definitely take the opportunity to tease you and circle one of your nipples through the fabric. he just loves the feeling of making you shiver due to his touches.

also, always finds a way to tell you how he ‘loves how squishy and soft they are’. claims they’re even softer than any plushies you own as well.

satoru , who you’ve caught many times staring down at your breasts whenever you’re wearing something skintight or revealing. he can’t help it, it’s his favourite part of your body. somebody needs to save that man, because he’ll literally get lost in thought and won’t even realise he’s ogling your tits.

if it’s not you catching him staring and playfully scolding him for it, it’s his students (who’d probably be disgusted by their teacher’s behaviour in front of their poor eyes). and yes—even in public, satoru’s a complete fool for you and your figure.

satoru , who loves to suck on your tits one way or another. whenever he’s fucking you, he always prefers a position where your chest is facing him. that way, he can see, touch, squeeze and suck on those breasts of yours. he doesn’t waste a single second and immediately latches onto your nipples, wet tongue gliding over your areola, eyes closed and throat making whiny noises.

one thing that never fails to make him rock hard is when you’re walking around the house without a bra on. for you it’s a simple decision; your bra sometimes gets too suffocating on your body. for satoru on the other hand, it’s impossible to ignore the urges in him once his eyes fall on the shape of your nipples that poke through the fabric of your clothes.

that’s also how you end up with his hands all over you every time. one day it’ll be his hands gliding under your shirt to grope your tits, the other day he’ll be more direct and yank your shirt off, put you on the counter and suck on them like there’s no tomorrow.

“nhhh, stay still— ah, shit.. so fuckin’ good. these things were just beggin’ to get sucked on. hm? ‘sensitive’ you say? even better.”

satoru , who enjoys the way your tits glisten when he’s cumming all over them. he loves to see the white liquid drizzle down the curves, over your nipples down to your stomach. if you’re giving him a blowjob, he’ll probably tap your head softly to signal that he’s about to reach his climax. that way you know that he wants to cum over your tits instead of down your throat.

probably instantly gets hard again at the sight of you covered in his sticky cum.

“mm, look at you, sitting there on your knees with my cum all over those pretty tits. aht aht, don’t move now, need to take a picture of the sight for future use.”

satoru , who turns into a trembling and moaning mess whenever you offer to give him a boob job. he’ll let shaky curse words escape the back of his throat, his hands clutching onto whatever he can find, his head thrown back a little but enough for his eyes to still be able to gaze down at you. he gets so turned on and will probably lose the ability to speak whenever he looks at how his cock is engulfed by your tits.

“jus’ like that, baby— oh fuck! look at those fuckin’ tits, mmh, makes me wanna cover ‘m with my cum so bad— shit, can i? may i?”

[ncttytrack]

Valedictorian - l.hs (m)

He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it. 

☆ Summary: Heeseung is your sworn enemy and you hate everything about him. You hate how he looks, you hate the fact that he gets better grades than you, and you hate the way he makes you cry. The problem however, is that you are his favorite plaything, and he couldn't get enough of you.

☆ Genre: Academicrival!Heeseung, Badboy!Heeseung, nerdy!reader, virgin!reader, SMUT

☆ Words: 5,2k+

☆ Warnings: Dacryphilia, a looot of crying, Dom!Heeseung, Sub!Reader, Manipulation, Heeseung is super mean, degradation (praising in the end though), chocking

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You had always been at the top of your class, getting straight A’s throughout all of high school. You didn’t care that you never went to parties, never talked to boys, or the fact that everyone calls you ‘teachers pet’ behind your back. It’s you who are going to have the bright future you have always dreamt of, and not them. And, if you are at the top of your class at the end of high school, the valedictorian title would be yours, and the dream of attending a top university would be achieved. But it was one person that was ruining everything for you. 

Lee Heeseung. Even his name makes your blood boil. Lee Heeseung. Leeee. Heeeeseung. Urgh. He wasn’t always there, and oh you wish you could turn back time to freshman year when he wasn’t present in your life. When you first saw him, you didn’t think he was much more than a low-lifer like your other classmates. Black hair, eyeliner, tight black clothing? Ah so an emo then, probably too depressed to be good at school, spending all day rutting in his room listening to mcr. Or he was maybe a bad boy, spending all his weekends on parties and fucking girls without even knowing their name.

But you were so wrong.

You clearly remember the day when you realized Heeseung might even be smarter than you, which was also the first day you talked to him. You had just got back the result from a massive math test, and of course you got an A. You triumphantly look at your score, 96/100, not bad - you thought, could definitely be better, but surely no one else got as high of a score as you did. That’s what you thought until you squinted at Heeseungs table beside yours. 

Down on his desk you saw his exam paper, and you could not believe your eyes. To make sure you saw right, you adjusted your thick glasses. 100/100. What? How is that even possible? Was Heeseung a nerd?

Not realizing that your stare caught his eye, you get surprised when his voice interrupts your thoughts. “Jealous? People have told me a lot about you.” Wtf? You get startled by his dark voice, looking up at Heeseungs dark orbs with an irritated expression. You observe him. His body is tilted back against his chair, legs spread wide - as if he wants to show off his dominance. His ripped jeans and the shirt he was wearing was both black, which is the color he always wears. His black hair was peeking out from the same coloured bennie, and his ear was covered with silver piercings. You hate the fact that his bad-boy-emo persona makes your heart skip a quick beat. He is so annoyingly good looking that it hurts, hurts even more now that you know he is a smart asshole. 

“What the fuck did you say”, you say, trying to sound intimidating even while wearing your thick nerdy glasses. People have told things about me? What? His lips turn into a smirk, and with his elbow on the table in front of him, he leans his head down on his hand. His eyes look at you up and down to take in your appearance. You are wearing a neatly ironed shirt, paired with a pastel yellow thick sweater and a pleated skirt just above the knees. The skirt looks way too big for you, and way too long. How old were you, fifty? The tights that you were wearing were thick, making anyone unable to see your skin through the fabric, and your hair was far from styled - messy, as if you just woke up. Probably were up all night studying for the test he aced. You looked like a nerdy-virgin (which you were), and he couldn’t help but to imagine what you would look like under all that clothing. 

“Well, that you were supposed to be this wannabe smart-ass, and annoying, really…” Oh so he is not just a nerd, but also an asshole. In frustration you turn your whole body facing him, before standing up so you can look down on him - getting the upper hand. With a hand on your hip and another on your glasses, you really do look like a smart-ass. “So, what? Are you saying I'm not smart?” He chuckles at your attempt in challenging him and stands up, looking down at you. He tilts his head and pouts his lips at you. Fuck he is tall. Embarrassingly, you look down at your feet and begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. No boy has never been this close to you, especially someone like him, someone bad. 

“Maybe you are, but you are nothing compared to me, bunny”. Bunny. Ah hell nah. You quickly look up at him again with furrowed brows, oozing with anger. Did he just use a pet name on you? How dare he look down at you like this, and how dare he try to flirt with you. “Please, everyone knows that I am going to be valedictorian, dick” You say and cross your arms in front of your chest, puffing out air and looking to the side to avoid his gaze. What you don’t know however, is how your arms in front of your chest pushes your boobs up, making Heeseung able to look down your shirt. “Let’s see who gets that title, Sweetheart.” He bites his lips to hide the laugh he lets out, enjoying the state you are in right now. “By the way, cute bra. I love the color blue” he says and walks out of the classroom leaving you speechless. You look down. Fuck. You didn’t know that one of the buttons had opened up when you crossed your arms. You will never wear stupid this bra again.

This was just the beginning, and during the last years of high school Heeseung could not stop bothering you. And as the times passed, the hatred for Heeseung increased. The way he looked at you teasingly when you got something wrong in class makes you want to vomit, the way he would brag when he got a better grade, makes you want to punch him hard right in his face and the way he was watching you throughout class, making it impossible to concentrate, makes you want to scream in his face.

But that was not even the worst thing about him. He knew he was hot, and he knew that you thought so too. Therefore, at least once a day he would embarrass you, torment you, flirt with you. How could someone be this bad, this sinful disturbing a girl like you. He would always sit beside you in every class, even though you protested him not to. Occasionally you would feel his hand on your thigh sliding up and down, making you shiver. You would always immediately slap his hand away, ignoring him throughout the day. What was his deal? 

Another day you remember clearly, exactly a year after first talking to Heeseung. You were starting to get used by his daily torment, almost getting immune from his mean comments. I guess he wanted to step it up a notch, and decided to do it during a presentation in English. You were as prepared as you could be, wearing a neatly ironed blazer and a hair up in a ponytail to look professional during your speech. Your speech cards were decorated with blue paper, perfectly organized in order for you to ace the speech in front of your classmates. 

The teacher called up your name, you got to the front, and started talking. You were good, so good, and you could see the anticipation throughout the class. Your flow was on point, not showing a single sign of nervousness. That was until you met Heeseungs gaze in the back of the classroom. Heeseung hated to see you succeed, including this geeky english speech. He was even more annoyed when he saw what you were wearing. Again with the try-hard-good-girl clothing. The blazer? Too big. And could you not let your hair out for a single day? Nonetheless, he got bored doing nothing but listening to your nonsense, his speech was better anyways, but he couldn’t let you go away unbothered. 

With his legs wide apart, and a hand on his thigh he looked at you, smirking - licking his lips even. You begin to stutter with your words, losing the confidence you built up for the presentation over the last four days. You couldn’t look away, and continued to watch Heeseung grace his veiny hand up and down his leg. Everyone else noticed that there was something up with you - the top student stuttering during a graded speech? Still, you continued - and tried to calm yourself down, until you met his eyes once again. Now, he was sending you a wink, while biting his lips. You unwillingly let out a surprised gasp, his actions making you drop all your cards on the floor. In panic, you quickly let out a weak “sorry..”, before dropping down on your knees, picking up all the cards. 

The teacher looked at you concerned, “Are you sure you don’t want to do the speech again?” You looked down on your feet, too scared to look up knowing who is watching you. “No, it’s okay”, you say before storming out of the classroom. While you do so, you look back to see a laughing Heeseung.

Since then Heeseung could never stop bother you, he loved to see you so worked up. He loved the face you would make when seeing his result on a test, he loved how irritated you became when he talked loudly with his friends about how much better he was than you. But he also loved how quiet you would be when teasing you. Seeing your flushed face when being touchy, stuttering when he lowered his face towards your neck to whisper something in your ear, only for him to say how much of a loser you were - making you punch him away. He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it. 

“Man, why are you always staring at her? Give her a break” Jake says, looking at Heeseung. He was sitting at a table eating lunch in the cafeteria with his closest friends. He had known all of them throughout high school, and they were even close now in senior year. They also knew his obsession with teasing, as Heesung himself likes to call you, his ‘loser classmate’. He looked at you, you were sitting alone reading a book - as always, eating a sandwich your mom probably made. You were wearing the same ugly skirt you always wore, with a blouse that was way too big. The thick glasses that were helping you read your boring history book, were resting low on your nose bridge. Sensing that someone was watching you, you looked up only to see Lee Heeseung staring at you. Urgh, Why does he always do this? He smirks when you look at him, biting his lips to make you nervous. As irritated it makes you - it works, making you look down at your History book you were reading for the massive test later the same week. 

Heeseung lets out a chuckle when Sunghoon punches his arm. “You sure love to tease her, why do you even do that anyways”. Heeseung looks at him and cocks an eyebrow, as if the answer to his question isn’t obvious. How can you resist making fun of something like that? “Because she is a loser, and the way she acts when I tease her is way too enjoyable for me to stop?” He says and takes a sip out of the cola in front of him, still staring at you. “Hmm, I don’t know Heeseung. Maybe she has a freaky side, all nerds do” Jay says and turns around to look back at you. Jay also staring at you is too much for you to bear, so you quickly gather your things and leave, looking back at Heeseungs table. That was when Heeseung got an idea, something that would sure really rile you up. 

“Of course she has a freaky side, Jay. Haven’t you heard?” He says and looks at the others. With wide eyes the boys look at each other, shaking their heads. “No, bro, what do you mean? '' Jake says with a curious expression, always a sucker for some high school gossip. Heesung signals them to lean in so he could whisper, and they do. “Last week y/n got a B on a super important math test - oh you should’ve seen her face, and because she was so desperate to get an A, she gave Mr.Park a blow job after the lesson in his office.” He lied, of course. He knew that you got an A from that test and would never suck off a teacher. But he can just imagine the look on your face when you find out about the nasty rumor. His friends let out a big gasp at his words, not believing that the school's good girl did something like that to get a better grade. “ No way dude, you are lying”, Jay says and punches Heeseungs chest. Heeseung brings his hands in front of his chest to defend himself. “No, trust me! I saw everything.” 

The rumor spread like wildfire, and It didn’t take long before everyone knew about it, including you. You already knew who would come up with something like this, and that’s why you are running towards the library to find him. He may have made everyone in school think that you went down on your teacher for a better grade, but oh but you were not going down without a fight. You hurriedly run down the hall towards the library.

With tears embarrassingly streaming down your face, you run up to Heeseung and his friends in the library. He looks up at you with a cocky expression, laughing when he sees your tears behind your thick glasses. He looks at Jake, “Do you see her? The way she cries? So embarrassing” You are now standing right infront of him. He continues, “What do you want? Do you want to suck me off too, bunny?” You swallow down your saliva, gaining courage to look deep into his eyes. “Stand up Heeseung” You say, your hands formed in fists. He looks around at his friends, laughing, before standing up crossing his arms in front of his chest. Heeseung looks down at you. You are wearing the same thing you wore the first day he talked to you, although now the sleeves on your shirt is wet from wiping your tears. Your face is red and puffy from crying, and small parts of your mascara are now under your eyes. He towered over you, making you feel small and fragile. But that was not going to stop you from standing up to yourself though.

“Why did you spread a rumor about me sucking off Mr.Park for a better grade?” You say, still looking at Heeseung. He lets out a chuckle and tilts his head to the side. He walks up to you, getting closer with any second. “Who said that was a rumor? What I know is that you went down on your fragile little knees and wrapped your dirty little mouth around Mr.Parks cock. I heard you were good too, really knowing how to use that soft tongue, and here I thought you were a virgin. Maybe you want to show me how you did it? Of coarse if you are even able to fit my massive cock in your mouth” 

Oh he was sooo dead. “What the fuck did you say to me?!” You scream at him, punching him in his stomach. He lets out a grunt from the pain. Right after, he grabs your wrist and lifts it up - almost making your feet leave the ground. You breath hitched, surprised by his sudden movement. His face is close to yours, making you feel his hot breath on your face. “Did you just fucking punch me?” If you thought Heeseung was scarry before, it was nothing compared to now. You immediately regretted punching him. Before the conflict could escalate any further, a teacher stormed into the library and separated both of you. “What is going on here? Y/n I thought higher of you, and Heeseung, why are you threatening another student! Detention, after school, both of you!” She says and storms away.

Detention. No way. You look up at Heeseung with tears in your eyes. “This is your fucking fault.” He only looks at you with a smirk on his face. “Let’s settle this in detention sweetheart” 

You were already crying when you walked to detention. You hate Heeseung. Hate the fact that he is so smart, even getting better results than you - probably making him earn the valedictorian title instead of you. You hate the way he looks. How can someone be so smart and look like that? Dressed in all black, eyes coated with black eyeliner, hair covered in a dirty beanie, his stupid piercing that made him look like a bad boy, stupid combat boots that would echo the halls when he stomped his feet on the ground, how stupid you felt for thinking he was hot, stupid, stupid, stupid! 

The classroom is completely quiet, the only people in detention being you, Heeseung and the teacher guarding you. You had brought your history book, still studying for the same history test - at least you were productive to keep your grades up. But still, this bothered you. Of course it was only you Heeseung in detention, wouldn't it be other students too? At least then you wouldn’t have to be alone with him. As if the devil heard you complain, the teacher suddenly stood up from her chair. “I’m just going down for a coffee break, don’t do anything stupid - I’ll be back in twenty minutes” She says and walks out, slamming the door after her. The classroom was at first completely quiet, before someone spoke up. 

“Twenty minutes?" That is a looong time”. You look besides you at Heeseung from across the classroom. His body is facing you and his hand is on his thigh, creeping up closer to his cock, the same way he did during your speech that one time. You were already weak, unable to look away from the thing you swore you hate. His tight ripped jeans hugging his thighs perfectly makes your mouth water, but the way he looks at you makes you want to run away. Stop it y/n! He is doing this on purpose! You were already trembling, your feet bouncing against the floor while biting your nails anxiously. You tried to read your book, tried to concentrate on the French revolution you were supposed to have a test on, but Heeseungs gaze was - something. 

Heeseung stands up from his chair, walking towards you until he is right beside you. You glance at him behind your glasses, still trying to concentrate on your studies, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach. You really are a loser, only his presence makes you want to cry. “Look at me, bunny” He says and licks his lips. Oh, he loves this. Loves how he can see your bottom lip tremble. You didn’t look at him however, still reading your book. 

Irritated, he pokes the inside off his cheek with his tongue, and lets out a sigh before grabbing your chin, almost lifting up your entire body using his strength. The chair you were sitting on falls to the ground from his movement. Tears are already forming in your eyes, before sliding down your cheeks. Why is he so scary? “I said look at me? What is it in that demand that you don’t understand, sweetheart?” He says and backs you up, still holding your chin, making you sit on the desk behind you. You bite your lips trying to muffle your cries, but it was no use, Heeseung could still see how scared you were from your tears. “T-this is unfair!” you try to let out between hiccups, your thighs clenching together from being this close to your sworn enemy. Being this close to him, you are able to smell him - a mix of mens perfume and sweat filling up your nostrils. 

Heeseung looks down on you with furrowed eyebrows, he slides his thumb across your swollen lips. Damn you cry all the time, is it this easy to make you upset? “What is unfair, baby?” He says, trying to sound sweet, even though he is forcing you in this position, the thumb leaving your lip so he can wrap his hand around your neck. You let out a yelp, which makes him chuckle. Through sobs you try to let out an answer. “It’s unfair how much I've fought to be at the top of my class, only for you to barge in and be better than me. Not only that but you're so mean to me, using your strength to force me like this” 

First, he doesn’t answer, suddenly putting his hand on your thigh to spread them apart. You don’t even try to fight back anymore, lost in the way he looks at you. Heeseung grabs the end of your long skirt, and pushes it up to your thighs. “Mhm, using my strength to force you? Am I forcing you baby?” He says and bites his lips, his hand still playing with the hem of your ugly rolled up skirt. He tilts his head, and the hand leaves the front of your neck to pull out the ponytail you were wearing, letting your hair down. “I know how you look at me. Probably loving the idea of a bad-boy fucking the nerdy good girl up, making you sweat, making you tremble with my touch” The hand leaves your head and wraps around your neck again but from the back. His other hand is closing up towards your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to your core - the heavier your breathing gets. 

“That’s not true, I could never find someone as irritating, mean, annoying as you attractive. Even though your tal frame, your strength, and your black silhouette would make any other girl fall, I’m not like the others” He chuckles at your statement, you just exposed yourself by the way you described him. Suddenly, he leans down towards your neck, giving you kisses with his soft lips. The sudden contact, that you had never experienced before, makes you bring up your hands to Heeseungs chest to grab his shirt, trying to push him away. But he is too strong, and your grip loosens when you feel his other hand just above your core. 

You unwillingly let out a moan at the feeling. What is going on? “Oh, are you not? So you don’t like it when I touch you like this?” He says, pressing his fingers harder down against your clit, making your back arch. The humiliation is too much, and your entire face is wet from the crying. You hate how weak he makes you feel, and how much you know he can do to you, and how much you would let him. Your glasses are getting foggy, making Heeseung chuckle, before taking them off. The sight of your teary eyes without your glasses makes his cock twitch. “Aw, baby, don’t cry. I’m going to take care of you, bunny” 

You pathetically nod your head, before letting out a high-pitched moan at the feeling of his finger on your clit, making soft circles through the fabric. Only this could bring you over the edge, this being the first time someone touched you. Heeseung let out a chuckle when seeing how desperate you were, making him want to push you even further. Therefore, he stopped touching your clit to pull off your thighs under your skirt. “No- stop!” You say, trying to push him away for the last time, even though you secretly want him to continue. You can’t let someone like him touch you like this, your reputation would be ruined. 

“What baby, you want me to stop?” He says, while pulling off your panties and letting his finger come in contact with your bare skin. You don’t answer, too busy letting out sweet moans from his touch. God he was good at this. Your hand leaves his chest, and grabs his shoulders to keep yourself from falling back out of pleasure. Heeseungs other hand begins to button up your blouse, laughing when he sees the same blue bra you were wearing at your first encounter. 

“If you want me to continue, you have to actually beg for it bunny” Heeseung says, laughing in your face at the whine you let out when he stops touching your clit. Desperate to feel pleasure, desperate for his touch, desperate for him, you unwillingly get down on your knees in front of him. Heeseung gets surprised by this, thinking you would never do what he says. 

Through ugly cries, tears running down your cheeks in desperation, you clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look up at the man in front of you. Because of your open blouse, the tears from your eyes run down your neck, between your boobs, something that Heeseung can’t keep his eyes away from. He always adored your cries, definitely if it came because of him, definitely if it made you look like this. “Please Heeseung, please”

You sure knew how to beg like a bitch.  

“Don’t worry bunny, I’m going to take care of my nerd real good” He grabs the back of your hair and pulls you up to your feet- earning a loud whine from the pain you feel in your scalp. He flips you around so your back is against his chest and punches you down on the wooden desk, while throwing away your history book with his other hand. You let out a pathetic cough from the hard impact from the fall, feeling the air being pushed out from your chest. Knowing he does not have a lot of time to fuck you, Heeseung quickly wraps the hem of your skirt, dragging it down to your ankles. The sight of your bare skin makes him let out a groan, making you wet. He unbuttons his pants, pulling them down alongside with his boxers to let his hard cock free. He looks at the clock on the wall beside him, 10 minutes before the teacher gets back. 

The contact of his cock against your wet folds makes your knees buckle, only being able to stand up from the grip Heeseung have on your waist. The embarrassment you are feeling is still making you cry, feeling defeated with your bare ass up in the air in front of the biggest asshole you have ever met. Heeseung leaves his hand from your waist up to your mouth to cover your cries, he was maybe an asshole but he doesn’t want to get caught.  

Before you could protest any further, he pushes himself into you, making you cry out of pain and pleasure. He was massive, and if you weren't so wet already from his harsh words, then you would never be able to take all of him. “Shh, shh, bunny, I’m going to be careful alright? I know it’s your first time taking cock”, he says, while pushing in and out of you slowly. Everytime he pushes himself into you, your back arch, making Heeseung let out a chuckle from your pathetic movements.

The only sound coming from the classroom was your muffled cries alongside with wet slapping sounds from the way Heeseung fucks into you. But Heeseung can’t resist, he needs to hear more of you, so he removes his hand from your mouth so you can let out your moans free. When he does, he grabs your waist again, stabilize himself, before fucking harder into you - getting impatient by treating you like a fragile doll. 

His cock is hitting into you as deep as it could go, making you let out a loud cry. It's painful and you can’t feel more disgusting than what you already do, pushing back to make him go even deeper. He lets out a loud groan from your sudden movement. How did he turn this nerdy good girl into something so nasty? 

“You’re such a dirty girl, y/n” Heeseung says, not slowing down his pace. Too lost in the pleasure you agree, giving him a weak nod between moans. “Tell me you are dirty, say it!” He says, feeling how he gets closer and closer by any minute, looking at the clock between thrusts to make sure you don’t get caught. “Im a d-dirty girl, Heeseungie” The way you say his name could make him cum then and there, but for your sake he tries to hold back. 

He lets out a laugh at your response, realizing that he finally got you under his spell. “Say how much better I am than you, tell me that you are nothing, nothing more than my little nerdy loser to play with, say it bunny” Heeseung says, slapping your ass right after, making you cry even harder. The pain, the pleasure, the fury you feel inside of you is making your head fuzzy, not caring if the words you are about to say will make you look pathetic. “Yes! You are so much better than me, I’m nothing except yours Hee!”

The guilt you feel inside your chest is almost unbearable. Your worst enemy had just made you swallow your pride while fucking roughly into you over the schooldesk in an empty classroom. All this work to seem like a good girl, wasted, only to get dicked down by someone who makes you cry every night. He has taken everything from you, your virginity, your confidence, not to mention the dream to become valedictorian. Heeseung can feel the shame oozing out of you, and he hugs your body from behind to get a stronger grip so he can fuck into you harder. You feel his sweaty, muscular, chest against your back, and you lean your head back against his shoulder to feel some sort of comfort.

 “Fuck yes, your mine alright baby? Now cum all over my cock” He says, fastening his pace. You cum because of his words, his commands, and the feeling of your juices covering his cock brings him over the edge, making him cum as well. He doesn’t pull out however, fucking his cum into you for a few seconds before realizing that the teacher is back in any seconds. 

Heeseung pushes your body away from him, and you are too weak to stand so you fall down on the hard floor. Your whole body hurts, and you try to use your strength to stand back up, until you feel Heeseungs arms wrap around your body. He helps you to pull on your clothes, helping you sit down in your chair as he brushes your sweaty hair away from your red face. “You were so good baby, so good for me”. He says as he gives you your thick glasses, dirty from being on the floor. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, and rubs your cheek with his thumb. “You are mine now bunny, understand?” You give him a weak nod, before he walks away to his desk.

When the teacher got back, she had no idea that the schools ‘good girl’ finally got ruined by her worst nightmare.

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Finally another fic! Rebloggs are really appreciated :)

[yeri-luvr]

TUNNEL VISION

pair: idol!sana x high fashion model!reader

wc: 3k

includes: alcohol consumption, scissoring, oral (reader receiving), overstimulation

Sana was ready to hit the bed as soon as she arrived at her 5-star hotel, but there was no time for her own plans since she had to attend fashion week.

She could curse her managers for making her arrive in Italy 3 hours before the show started, but she can’t lie she still held the excitement she always had when going to a foreign country.

Milan held Sanas favorite gelato shop, a vivienne westwood boutique she shopped in every visit, and perhaps beautiful models she never forgot to pick up after certain events.

What got sana through her hair, makeup and styling process was the possibility of an after party, or planning on the side quests she’d attend to during her free time.

Luckily, Sana had a love for fashion and was grateful to attend such events. The notable pieces of fabric piqued her interest every single time, and sometimes a pretty model would catch her attention.

Skimming down an outfit that captivated her, she failed to notice the face that adorned the clothing.

You had a face that kept her focused longer than any other model that walked the same stage. The clothes you were modeling were easily shadowed by your beauty and the rbf you displayed didnt help shift her focus back to your clothes. Easy enough to say, Sana was hooked.

It felt like you were off the stage quicker than you got on, and Sana regretted wasting her time focusing on other outfits you shared the stage with, but was grateful you caught her eye last second.

All she could do was hope to run into you somewhere else, maybe somewhere along the streets of Milan or even better, an after party.

The rest of the show was a bore for her thanks to you. She believes her eyes wandered around the room 10 times, checked her nails 5 times, and thought about you even more times before the show came to a close with the designer thanking everyone for their attendance.

Stepping out of the event was less of a hassle compared to when she arrived since most fans dissipated, except the ones who stayed till the end of the event in hopes of seeing Sana once again. Per usual, she waves towards fans, thanking some for showing out and supporting her, and finally steps into the black SUV that would take her to her next run in with you.

You on the other hand were on cloud 9. Yeah, modeling was fun and a passion you’ve been pursuing for about 3 years, but you thought the scene that came with it was even better. Your timeless features paired along with the duality of your runway walks led you to being on the front cover of magazines, opening luxurious fashion shows, and an extravagant lifestyle you’ve yearned for since you were a little girl.

Getting off the catwalk was a relief since you were able to finally slip off your heels and your mood suddenly lifted once you remembered your planned whereabouts after this.

Stepping into the function was like a reward along with the champagne that was served to you right at the entrance. This was a playground for socialites, networking, and public figures mingling with others on the same level as them. You on the other hand did not come for networking or mingling with other well -known people, but for the free drinks and a good time with your small circle.

You usually don’t find yourself sharing a bed after nights like this, but you weren’t opposed to the idea either, you typically just went with the flow.

Heading back towards you friend group after grabbing a shot from the bar, you slowed your pace once you notice the unfamiliar face next to one of your closest friends. She calls out, “Y/N! Come here, I want you to meet someone.” You barely process what your friend says, instead focusing on the girl you’ve never seen before. Her hair had slight waves with one side tucked behind her ear that exposed her sharp yet soft jawline, and her eyes pierced yours as if she was waiting for your arrival. Sliding in the booth, you turn to the unknown girl and push your hand forward, “I’m Y/n, it’s nice to meet you!” She takes your hand and smiles, “I’m sana, you looked great on the runway earlier today!”.

It was hard to find your words when she was giving you such an endearing smile, making you focus on her pink lips that were recently coated with lip gloss. Shaking out of your trance, you realized how familiar the name sounded.

Your friends head peaked out behind Sanas, “Shes in that girl group I told you about how much I love, Twice! Remember?” That made your eyes light up and turn back to Sana, equally excited as much as your friend was.

“You don’t understand how much she talks about you guys. We were recently talking about flying out to Japan to go see you perform!”

Making further conversation with the girl came easy, you two were both interested in each other’s careers, sparking many questions and soon enough compliments that couldn’t be avoided due to each other’s flirtatious personalities. You couldn’t help but feel as if you stole Sana away from your best friend, but that became the least of your worries when you saw her drunk crying and being consoled by one of your other friends.

Sana soon put her open palm towards you wordlessly and after putting your hand in hers she leads you to the main dance floor. The heat radiating from the group of people dancing did not bother either of you since you two were wrapped up in each other’s worlds. The song, sensual but upbeat, lead your back to her front and your hips swaying side to side against her. You were thankful you had made a friend who didn’t mind being touchy, but it made you wonder if that would end in you guys becoming a one night stand.

You didn’t push the idea away and instead found yourself wanting it to manifest into reality. This urged you to turn back around to face sana and wrap your arms around her neck.

The red strobe lights made her look like the devil in disguise, a sin to indulge in, and a face you wished to see more often. You find yourself becoming grateful your friend ran into her and introduced her to you, or else you wouldn’t have been able to see her face leaning in towards you, making her forehead come in contact with yours.

Your eyes trail down to her lips and once you look back up into her eyes, hers are already focused in on your lips.

You kissed her with only your liquid encouragement and a dream, but in your favor she returns the kiss with even more assertiveness. Remembering that you’re out in plain sight, you pull away leaving sana to chase your lips, but you pulling away made her come back to her senses and realize her whereabouts.

“My place or yours?” You get out as quickly as you can. Sanas quick to decide on her place and calls up her driver to get you out of the club and onto her bed.

Ushering you out of the place, Sana grips your hand and pulls you towards where her driver was waiting. Thankfully, no fans or paparazzi were there due to the late hour. Getting out of the club was not that difficult, but sitting next to sana for a whole 15 minute ride to her hotel was hard. She was scrolling through her phone while dragging her hand up and down your thigh, too close for comfort as if it was nothing.

The car ride felt agonizingly slow as her hand built up your anticipation, leaving you resisting the urge to cross your legs. Sana took notice when you suddenly tensed up, all she did was smile knowingly.

It felt like the car barely came to a stop when Sana dragged you out the car. You didn’t notice you arrived at the hotel because of your hazy state, trying to focus on everything but Sanas hand on you the whole ride.

You let her guide you since you were unfamiliar with the place. She seemed to glide smoothly and kept her resilience impressively. You wondered if she had gotten soaked as much as you had. The thought made you flush, thinking of her seeing how wet you had gotten embarrassed you a bit.

This was a foreign feeling since you were always the most confident one in any hook up. You’ve never met someone who chipped away at your confidence and made you feel the need to submit. Sanas classiness didn’t falter once all the while she was the one doing all the touching.

She remained calm as she opened the door to her room, lead you to her bed and motioned for you to sit down on it. It made you eager to find out what was to come next.

“I’ve been eyeing you since the show,” To Sana, it was like tunnel vision. That whole day, she chose to barely acknowledge anyone who wasn’t you. Besides your friend, she exchanged pleasantries with her but that was all because she saw you come in with her.

Her hand tucking the hairs that framed your face behind your ears, she finds comfort in sitting on your lap and pushing you back by your shoulders.

No words needed to be exchanged when her hands reached for the zipper of your dress and effortlessly dragged it off. She follows suit and feels like she has just opened a christmas present.

Her eyes trail down from your face to your bra, eyeing the lace detailing that kissed your skin. Your panties left drenched with her to blame, she eyes the wet spot

You unwillingly boosting her ego, Sana took pride in managing to get you so wet with barely any work. When she started moving her hips on top of your heat, you were already whimpering so lightly that your deep breaths were heard more. She grips onto your shoulders as she lowers her upper body onto yours and was disappointed as she felt the fabric of your bras blocking contact from each other.

Removing hers then yours, she’s pleased with the feeling of your bare nipples rubbing against hers along with her hips rotating on top of you. You felt constricted as she used you for her own pleasure, almost feeling like a doll with the way she humped you.

She felt your nails lightly scratching her sides, they had a sense of urgency, begging for more of her attention. She puts your hands to a stop and places your fingers in her mouth. You look at her fascinated while she works her tongue up and down along your skin. She pulls them out with a pop and removes the rest of your garments.

She brings your two wet fingers onto her core and helps herself by dragging her lips along them, back and forth.

You glided over her clit, making her breath hitch but not making her stop. The tip of your fingers met her hole, leading sana to tease her entrance with your own hand.

You barely felt like you were alive, almost in a trance like state. You didn’t notice her hands placing yours besides your head followed by the feeling of warmth where your cunt was practically leaking. Your back arched as your clit came in contact with the girl on top of you. All you could focus was on Sana, you couldn’t pay attention to anything else but her face showcasing pure ecstasy and the sound of her slick mixing with yours.

Your legs felt like they were in a jumbled mess, but everything else felt just right. The feeling of sana moving back down for her breast to make contact with yours, her tongue searching for yours along your lips and her fingers sliding down between the two of you to feel how wet you were against each other.

Her moans were raspy and were drowned by your lips over hers. You break apart the kiss to breath since everything was overwhelming. You tried to voice out your words and what you wanted to say to her, but all that came out were hyperventilated breaths and incoherent sentences.

“Shh, breath baby. it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Sana cradles your face and slows down her movement. You whine when the pace slows down and you finally catch your breath “Go faster please, I promise I can take it.” She contemplated for a few seconds then picked back up her pace. Her muscles burned but she didn’t mind, she was glad to do the work while she got the perfect view of you falling apart.

Sana could’ve gotten off just by the faces you were making under her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the neighboring hotel guest heard you, but she didn’t care and was glad you didn’t hold your noises back.

You reaching the edge purely by clit stimulation wasn’t what you had expected, but here you are clutching sanas wrist up to your chest. “Fuck- I’m so close, don’t stop.” You proceed to move your hips upwards, chasing your high and taking sanas thumb into your mouth. You used her thumb to silence yourself, truly believing you were going to scream once you came under Sana.

Sana was fascinated by how easy it was to glide herself on you due to how much more wet you got right before cumming. She focused on grinding her hips down harder against you, making the pressure against your clit just enough to bring you over the edge. Sana kept her movements up, not slowing down as she focused on finishing herself on you.

You were limp on the bed as she continued using you to get herself off. You never came that hard before just by scissoring, and you were on the brink of tears as she slowed down against you.

Sana leaned down and kissed the tears that fell due to the overstimulation you felt. Feeling like that wasn’t enough for you, she made her way down your body and arched her back to come face to face with your pussy. It was a mistake looking down and seeing the view in front of you.

Her face was in front of your pussy that was once again being played with by her fingers, softly drawing circles on your puffy clit while she eyed down the milky liquid coming out of you.

Her tongue went straight to work at your hole, savoring the taste of you once your slick was welcomed into her mouth. Licking away at your entrance, sana closed her eyes and sighed getting lost on your taste.

You began whining for the nth time, realizing she was probably pussy drunk with the way she didn’t notice your hand pushing her head away. Her ministrations didn’t stop there and she continued to help herself by eating you up.

It’s almost as if she enjoyed bringing you to tears, you laid there on the bed once again crying for her. You tried your best to take it all, her persistent licking on your sensitive bud, two of her fingers pistoling in and out of you, and her deep groans that vibrated against you.

The familiar liquid that came out of you motivated sana to keep going. She chased the taste of you and the way your legs shook around her head almost made her want to keep going once you came again.

She focused on hitting the spongy spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back arch.

What brought you to the edge was her her lips wrapped around your clit, switching between sucking on the bud and circling her tongue around it. Your senses were fucked up and you needed to grab onto anything to keep you grounded, which unbeknownst to you, made you grab her hair.

She groaned while attached to your pearl at the feeling of you tugging at her hair. Leaving her tongue out for you to grind on, she watches as you get lost on the feeling of her.

Sana let’s herself have a little more fun with you by cleaning up your slick, her tongue tracing patterns along your spent hole and not shying away from your bundle of nerves.

You truly did not have the energy to move yourself away or to bring her to a stop. Your makeup had to be ruined by now due to the amount of times you had already cried that night, but your tears felt uncontrollable while she licked away as if she hadn’t already pushed you beyond your limits.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with the view of her licking your juices off of her fingers, one by one. The sight made you close your eyes, knowing if you continued to watch you’ll get horny all over again, and it was better off that way since your sensitive cunt couldn’t take her anymore.

Going up to your body, Sana peppers delicate kisses over your collarbone making goosebumps arise. You two laid there in silence with you finding comfort on top of Sanas chest, the rhythmic beating of her heart lulling you you to rest.

Waking up left you disappointed once you realized that Sana was not in bed with you. You’ve been through this routine a good amount of times by now, what’s the difference now?

You tried to remind yourself how you shouldn’t have expected any different from Sana but the thought of waking up besides each other, getting breakfast and exploring the city was an experience you wanted to share with the girl to get to know her better. In the process of picking up your thrown garments you notice a piece of paper on top of the bedside table. Picking it up, you read the written text with the prettiest handwriting you’ve ever seen,

“I pushed the checkout till 2 in the afternoon so you can rest up longer. If you’re ever in Korea, text me (xxxxxxxxx)”

Feeling relief and excitement, you smile to yourself knowing you’ll reconnect with the girl who left a lasting impression.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: You can read part two here.

Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.

You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.

"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.

"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.

"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.

While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.

"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.

As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.

"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.

You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.

Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.

"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.

"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.

"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.

"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.

"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."

"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.

You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.

"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.

He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.

Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.

Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.

"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.

"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

"What? What are you—"

"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."

He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"

He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.

"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.

"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.

"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.

"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.

"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."

"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.

"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.

"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.

"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."

That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.

You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.

"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."

You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"

"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."

Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.

"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."

You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.

[strayingawayy]

moonlit comfort...

...the one where you're tired. truly, terribly tired. and jisung is there. he's always there. (warning: mentions of meds, being in a depresh)

a soft sigh left your lips as you admired the night sky from your position on the bed. your phone and laptop lay somewhere on your left, empty dishes in the corner of the room, sheets covering your lower half as you hugged your knees tightly. squeezing your eyes shut, you inhale a shaky breath.

it was happening again. you had spent the afternoon with friends, laughing and smiling as you entertained them. none of them would've suspected a thing from your behaviour, you seemed normal, you were fine.

you were tired. you were so goddamn tired. it took every fibre of your being to convince the people around that there was absolutely nothing wrong, that the meds you were on had been working. and while they were, the seemed to bring side effects you couldn't completely explain. they brought about a sense of loneliness that you couldn't laugh off anymore. you didn't have the energy to laugh it off anymore.

your phone buzzed beside you as it lit up with a notification.

noona simp 😒💗: babyyyyyyy! channie hyung is letting me go a little early today so be prepared to be obliterated with snuggles 😤💝

the message made you happy. it really did. but you couldn't smile anymore. not right now. you'd save the energy for when jisung would be home. nevertheless you decided to shoot a message back to prevent him from getting worried.

you: getting the cuddle time playlist ready jagi. also, tell chan i love him <3333

noona simp: you no love me? ��🥺🥺🥺

you sighed as you read the message from the notification before putting your phone on the bedside table. to say that you loved han would be an understatement.

you loved every scar that adorned his body and every so called imperfection he came with. you loved him at his lowest and at his best. you loved him when he was drenching your shirt with his tears and you loved him when he was crying tears of laughter at a joke you cracked. you loved him when the sun rose every morning and you loved him when till it came back the next. loving someone was a big risk but as long as it was him, you were reminded that it was worth it. because you loved han jisung. and that was the beginning and end of everything for you. and he knew that. you just couldn't say it right now. and he knew that too.

you bring your hand up to the hoodie you were wearing and take in a breathe. it smelled like him. a little more than usual. he must've sprayed some extra deodrant for you on it. you smiled slightly at that.

suddenly bbama, who was sleeping beside you before, jumped off the bed and rushed out of the room as the two of you heard the front door open.

jisung was finally home.

warmth filled you at the thought as you placed your sock clad feet on the floor and made your way out to greet him. the sight before you however, made your more emotional than you thought it would have.

jisung sat crouched on the floor, puckering his lips at bbama while scratching his ears as the dog licked his hands and wagged his tail excitedly.

upon seeing you, he stands up and mumbles a 'hey jagi' before opening his arms wide.

your breathe speeds up and you run into his arms, wrapping your own around his waist. your vision blurs and your hands begin to shake as they fist the fabric of his hoodie. tears dampen his clothes and a broken sob escapes your lips. you lean your entire weight against him as the two of you slide down onto the floor.

your boyfriend brings his hand up to rub soothing circles against your back and it's enough to make you break. what starts off as a tear of two soon turn into wails you let out against han's chest. you were so happy that he was finally home. what happened? you don't know. you're trying to offer him an explanation, you're trying to apologise but nothing you're saying is coherent and that just makes you want to cry more. you whine in distress and han cups your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours and tells you to breathe with him.

"we'll be okay jagi. you're not alone in this. i'm with you yea? let's take this slowly. small easy breathes ok? come on breathe for me, breathe with me."

he guides you as you inhale from your nose and out from your mouth. and in again, before releasing a shaky breathe. you try to open your mouth again to apologise but he cuts you off by pressing his lips against your own.

"not now, baby. you don't need to apologise to me ever ok? no matter what, i'm here for you."

you're looking at him with wobbly lips as tears threaten to spill again. nobody has ever loved you as much as han jisung.

"and no one ever will." he mumbles as he presses a kiss against your forehead and ushers you to breathe again.

huh? had you really said that out loud?

soon enough, your breathing slows down to normal, your wails tune down to hiccups and han takes that as a sign to pick you up with him, bbama carefully following behind, looking up at you with big, worried eyes. you gave him a small smile to which he wagged his little bum and gave you a small bark of glee.

han layed you down on your shared bed as you made yourself comfortable while he got you a glass of water to help hydrate yourself. he patted your hair tenderly as you gulped the water down. setting the glass down on your bedside table, he slid into the bed with you, gentle arms holding you tight in this seemingly dark night.

he turned back for a moment to draw the curtains open, allowing moonlight to pour into the room, illuminating his skin beautifully. you melted into his touch as he tucked his chin over your head, your ear pressed against his chest, his heartbeat allowing you to relax. bbama settled himself at your feet, ready to fall asleep any second now.

you suddenly felt vibrations from han's chest as he began to hum some made-up tune while his fingers softly massaged your scalp and occasionally brushed through your hair.

you visibly relaxed at that and han smiled to himself as he heard your soft snores moments later.

snuggling himself further into your arms, he planted small kisses against your forehead before sleep took over him as well.

no matter how hard it would get, you knew han jisung would be there with you at the end of the day. and that was enough to keep you going.

...

a/n: i talked to a professional after a really long time today and the only thing i can say is that i'm tired to the bone. to anyone reading this: stay warm, stay with me. the good times will come. we'll wait on them together. if you ever need to talk, i'm here <3

[ihavethedreamies]

Ride a Tiger | San [NSFW]

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.2k

Pairing: Tiger-Hybrid!San x Deer-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Breeding Kink, Bath/Water Sex, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!San (not really, he's a tiger hybrid)

Author's Note: Just so you know, this is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny tiger cock. This is vaguely set in the Joseon Era of Korea, which is a pretty long time range. It is after the creation of hangul, so its post 1600s about. I only know a lot of this stuff from, and am copying from, historical/period dramas. I know in a lot of ways they aren't completely accurate, especially with women going around and not covering their heads/faces. This is not supposed to be accurate, by any means. Let me know if something is horribly wrong.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

"He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount." ~Chinese Proverb

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

Revised (1/31/25)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

When you heard thunder rumbling in the distance earlier, you didn’t think anything of it. You’d be done before the rain comes! Nope. You scramble to gather all of the books you laid out at your stand, getting them under the surface so they won’t get damaged. A giant flash of light followed closely by clap of thunder startles you, and you bleat, your long furry ears pressing back against your hair. Your short tail under your hanbok twitches, slightly rustling the fabric it lays under. Once all of the books you’re selling are safe, you grab the sseugaechima you have and sling it over your head, stepping back toward the building you’re in front of. It’s some kind of accessories shop, but the roof awning is quite short and so you’re barely able to hide from the downfall underneath it. People scramble on the street to flee to rain, and the few of them that have coverings continue on their way normally. You peek out from under your own covering, observing the sky best you can. It’s clearly not going to end anytime soon; it’s just that time of the year. You have no idea how you’re going to get all the books back to your house. Your father doesn’t mind you working to copy and sell books for the local seller, but he won’t let you establish your own business. The seller you work for also doesn’t have a store front himself and so the two of you sell at stalls in the market.

You decide to wait just a bit longer, wondering if the shop owner of the building behind you will let you store the books for a bit. The street has more or less cleared out, but you watch a nobleman come closer. His clothes are nice, even nicer than yours, so his status is probably much higher. The gat he wears is adorned with a silk strap and the beading is clearly finely made as well. As you look over him, the belt tying his jeogori accentuates his narrow waist and wide shoulders. Your eyes travel up to his face and he’s stunning. But also…he has tiger ears. As he gets closer, you catch a glimpse of his long tail. Definitely a tiger. It’s incredibly likely that the guy is not just nobility, he’s possibly one of the princes. There are like eight of them so that isn’t too unlikely. Despite the downfall, he’s simply strolling down the street, almost likes there isn’t any rain. Since you’re one of the few people still outside, he stops in front of your seemingly empty stall. He lifts his head, and his eyes meet yours and you feel them widen. Instinct flares to life, your deer-like genes screaming at the sight of the predatory gaze. It isn’t that he’s trying to scare or threaten you, he just simply is a predator hybrid, and you a prey.

"Have you nowhere to go to escape the rain?" He’s definitely of high status, with not just tone but the exact words he uses. You nod dumbly, back pressing to the stone foundation of the building behind you. The sseugaechima over your head covers your deer-like ears and your tail is completely hidden by your hanbok.

"I-I have books to sell, and I don’t want them to get wet." You point under the stall, and at the crate that holds your wares. He makes an 'ah' of acknowledgement. You wonder why he feels the need to stop at an empty stall.

"You might have to wait a while for the rain to stop." He looks up at the sky. You sigh, knowing he’s right.

"Do you want me to help?" He offers and you flinch. Really?

"If you wish, my lord." You bow a bit, and he huffs.

"Shh. Pretend I'm not that important." His smile is much softer than you expected from a tiger. You nod, not able to speak and he comes around and you drag the crate out, ready to use the sseugaechima to cover it.

"Use this." He corrects, taking the cloth that you’d laid out on the wooden stall, and you wonder how frazzled you are that you forgot about it. He tucks the edges of the fabric over the books and easily lifts the crate. You move around him so you can start to lead him home and you feel tense the whole time. Negating that he’s a tiger and you a deer, he’s clearly a nobleman, and he’s doing physical work…Then again, you’re technically a noble yourself, and a female at that. Finally getting to the entrance for your family's estate, the gate is open already and you wave for one of your father's guards to come and help. The guard takes the crate from the tiger, bowing deep in respect and then dashes off to put your wares in your quarters.

"Thank you, my lord." You bow again, sseugaechima still covering your head.

"San." he adds, and your brow furrows trying to wonder why he’s talking about a mountain. Then it hits you, it’s his name, he is one of the princes!

"Oh, yes, your highness. (Y/N)." You introduce yourself as well, staying bowed and making sure not to look at his face.

"Get inside and out of the rain Lady (Y/N)." He smiles and your eyes flit to his gorgeous face. You bow deeper then dash further into the courtyard and book it to your quarters.

 ~θωθ~

Looking up at the clear blue sky, you squint at the tiny white cloud you can see. It had rained for nearly four days straight and therefore you couldn’t set up your stall for that long. You don’t really have need for money since your father is…well, rich, but he doesn’t just give you pocket money to buy stuff for yourself. It’s because you want books that aren’t normally what noble women would read, you know, like things you can actually learn from. You’ve read more than your fair share of romances and adventures from copying them. After you’ve set out the final pile of books, you look at your hand and rub your finger over the callus you got from holding the brush. Yes, it’s painstaking, but you’re extremely glad that you can use hangul, it would take ten times longer if you had to use hanja. Right as you get done setting up, two women stroll up and you continue your day.

~

About an hour before you’d get ready to go home, you note that you’ve done well for the day and have only about six books left, each a different one. Since it had slowed, you’re sitting on a stool, people watching the few that are wandering around. It’s nearing the evening mealtime, and you can smell the food from the restaurant down the road on the corner. Your stomach rumbles and you sigh deeply, ears drooping. You start to zone out a bit, watching some birds on the ground, not looking up when someone stops.

"What is this one like?" the man asks, and you finally look up so you can see which book he’s pointing to.

"Hm, something about a servant seducing a nobleman's son…" You sniff and look up at the guy and startle. It’s that prince from before! Even if you hadn't carved his face into your memory, it’s a bit obvious from his tiger ears right under the brim of his gat. You immediately stand and bow, and he looks around quickly.

"It's fine, I'm trying to lay low." He waves you off and your eyes catch sight of the black claw-like nails on the end of each finger. You risk glancing up at his face and he’s smiling, dimples indenting his cheeks, your eyes focus on his large canine teeth. You feel your tail flick a few times, your skirt ruffling a bit. You feel his eyes moving over your face and your ear flicks at well, nervous under the gaze of his golden colored eyes. You freeze when his arm moves, hand coming up and your eyes follow the movement till you can’t see, and you feel a little tug on your earring.

"These aren't real." He makes note of it, and you cringe. You had wanted real jade earrings, but you didn’t have enough money, and so you had to settle with those instead. Your father might have bought those for you, but you really wanted them right then and there. You aren’t even sure what they’re actually made of.

"N-no." You bow your head, and he lets them go.

"When do you leave?" His question startle you and your ear flicks again.

"In about an hour."

"Don't leave till I get back." He tells you and he heads off further down the market road, back the way he came. You blink after him, eyes wide, wondering what the heck that was all about.

~

You do as he asked though and wait for him to return. Glancing up at the sky, you have another ten minutes or so and he still isn’t back. If you didn’t know he was one of the princes, you’d have left, but he told you to stay. You still hadn't sold the rest of your books despite a few people stopping by, and so you start to put them in the crate. Looking down into the mostly empty container, you look to the side and see him coming. Even at a distance you can see his smile when he notices you’re still there, and he jogs to meets you sooner.

"You stayed."

"Well, you said to." You shrug, not looking at his face. Part of it’s because of his status, but it’s also because he’s so handsome. Too handsome, actually. You wonder if all the princes are so. You watch as he pulls something out from the interior pocket of his jeogori, a small but detailed wooden box coming out. He holds it out to you, and you hesitated to grab it.

"Go ahead." He waves his arm a bit and you gently take it with both hands, lifting the hinged lid. You gasp, looking at the earrings inside. They look nearly identical to yours, but they’re obviously real jade.

"W-what?" You have to look at his face then, see what his expression is for some sort of explanation. His cheeks are a tiny bit red, and his own ear flicks some and you can see his long striped-tail swaying behind him.

"Your Lord Bak's daughter, from the Saseum Clan?"

"Y-yes?" He smiles a bit bashfully, looking down as he swings his leg around, drawing a circle with his foot.

"Can you take me to talk to him?" You nod jerkily, a little shocked at the request. Before you can grab the crate, he takes it, and you ball up the cloth from the stall and shove it on top of the books. You walk next to him as you head toward your home, feeling a bit weird, like you should be following him. You’ve never directly interacted with a prince before him, but you still know the basic rules. Don't look at his face, walk behind him, don't be physically higher than him, speak formally… Yes, he’s trying to lay low, but that doesn’t change who he is. You wonder who is genuinely ignorant enough to not know who he is though since he’s so obviously a tiger hybrid. When you show up to the house with the same man carrying your book crate as the time before, your father's guard is a little skeptical. He still takes the crate from the prince- San, his name is San, you remember.

"Can you please get Lord Bak?" He asks and the guard's gaze flicks to you, and you give a short nod. As he goes to do so, you stand with the prince awkwardly, swaying just a bit so your skirt twirls a bit around you. Your ears are twitching so much that your old, fake earring jingles. Your arm twist around your back so your hand can tug on the end of your braid, a nervous habit.

"(Y/N)? Who is this?" Your father comes around the corner, strolling down the stone-paved path toward both of you. He glances at San, and you cringe slightly at how much smaller your father is than him. His jeongjagwan is modified to fit around his antlers, only that puts him at the same height as the prince.

"I am Prince San, Lord Bak. I have come to ask permission to court your daughter for marriage." You balk at this, turning to gape at him directly. Your head turns back to your father whose gaze has sharpened. You know that there’s a lot of noblemen that have brought their sons as potential suitors, and your parents have turned down every single one. Will San be different? You’re lucky that your parents do takes into consideration your opinion on most things.

"You are the fifth eldest, no?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents aware of your request?"

"Not yet, though I have been given more freedom since I am far down in the line of succession." It seems the men are having another conversation through their eyes.

"Is that why you’d be allowed to marry a prey hybrid?" The prince falters for a reply, it seems he hadn’t even taken that part into consideration.

"I will need to request an audience with his highness." Your father answers and San seems to deflate.

"What do you think of this?" Your father turns to look at you and you cast a nervous glance at the tiger next to you. You know that you’ll have very little say in reality, and you wish you lived about a thousand years earlier. You know, before Confucianism ruined feminism. Though, the prince seems to be very sweet, and he’s extremely attractive. It could be way worse.

"If my lord finds it auspicious." You bow your head a bit and your father hums.

"Why don't you go back inside, (Y/N)?" The request is more of a command than a suggestion and you scurry off to do so. As you enter, your mother comes down the hall and you meet her.

"Geez, mother…" You lead her to spin around, and she does, though with a confused look. Adjusting her binyeo so it’s setting in her bun evenly, she then turns back to face you.

"Were you speaking with someone?" She peeks around you so she can look out the window, but she can’t see.

"A suitor…" You tell her and her long, furry ears perk up.

"I shall see then," she nudges past you and goes to go out and you huff a sigh, heading back to your room.

~

"(Y/N), your father requests your presence in the courtyard." A handmaiden comes to summon you, and you get up from your floor desk to follow her out. Your father is not alone, Prince San standing with him. It was only three days prior that your father had an audience with the king, and since the prince is there…

"Yes, father?" You come out and stop before them, bowing at the waist some.

"It seems that it is auspicious…" Your father tosses a glance at the prince, and you look up at both of them. Your gaze going to the tiger's handsome face, and he’s beaming.

~^ω^~

The next few weeks are a blur and before you know it you’ve gone through the marriage ceremony, and you’re moved into his own little palace that belongs to the greater palace grounds. Since he’s one of the younger princes you share a palace, whereas the queen and the crown princess have their own places. There’s a place as well for any consorts that the royals might have as well, but it seems San requested you to live with him. Honestly, you think it quite impersonal for a husband and wife not to share a room and bed each night, but that seems to be the norm for royalty. When you learn that even princes sometimes have consorts, you got a little insecure. What if you alone aren’t enough?

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" San's voice catches your attention, and you turn to him as he enters. You’ve been standing in the middle of the room, just looking over everything, the room fairly barren compared to the overall size.

“I was just…” You stop, trying to think of how to word it. He hums for you to continues.

“I was just trying to soak in everything I’ve been told to learn.” You lie, not ready to bring the subject up quite yet. Your head is pounding from all the new information you’ve been pumped full with and you’re nervous about messing up. Luckily since you were a noble already, you knew most of the rules and practices, but you’re going to be under a bit harsher scrutiny. Not a bit, a lot. Your head feels strange, having your long braid looped up into a chignon braid, the jade binyeo holding it up making it feel heavier. The cheopji sitting on the middle of the top of your head is heavy as well, since it’s gold. Your hanbok is of much higher quality and you feel nervous about getting it messy or torn somehow.

"(Y/N)?" He calls your name again and you snap out of your tumbling thoughts.

"Why did your eldest brother step down as heir?" You finally remember the question you’ve been wanting to ask him, before your insecurities start to spiral. You’d heard some of the other women talking about it but don’t want to rely on gossip.

"Hm. The woman he fell in love with was too low in status. He abdicated so he could marry her. That's why Hongjoong is the crown prince."

"I see. The eldest is Seonghwa, yes?" San hums and you sigh, racking your brain for all the names you’ve learned. There are too many. Finally, you look over San…your husband. Just the thought makes you a bit giddy. Even though it hasn't been very long since you two met, maybe about two months, you have endeared to each other. He’s so sweet, contrasted greatly with the normal thoughts of how tigers are. Then again, he’s a hybrid, not a full tiger. He’s in a much different ensemble than what you met him in, more princely clothes. He doesn’t have any kind of headwear on then, just his manggeon and you can see the streak of orange and white in his hair to the right of the center of his head.

"Are you nervous?" he asks and your ears flick. Not really sure what he’s talking about, you just nod. You are, but you aren’t for sure in what way he means. He steps forward and his hands find your waist, your own landing on his chest. San pulls you closer and your ears press back against your head. Your nervous habit of tugging on your braid is going to have to be replaced since it’s no longer hanging down your back. You let out a noise similar to a bleat when he hauls you even closer, his nose nuzzling against your ear.

"We get to make it official." he whispers and what he’s getting at finally hits you. The consummation of the marriage. You’re nervous, and a bit worried as well. You were told that predators have a much more aggressive…mating process. Plus, apparently, tiger hybrids are much likes real tigers, and have 'barbs' on their… You’re in your own thoughts; you can say whatever; they have barbs on their cocks. Plus, you’re a good 30 centimeters shorter than your husband and he’s just big overall. Your hands on his chest fist, digging your fingers into the fabric and you squeak when the claws on his hands dig into your own clothes enough you feel them against your hips. You shudder as his slightly rough tongue runs up the side of your throat. Your heart rate spikes, nearly taking your breath away, some primal part inside of you freaking out.

"Your high-"

"It's just us, call me San."

"San, I-"

"Your highness!" A eunuch calls from the other side of the door, and you pull back. He reluctantly lets you remove yourself from him and you turn away from the door as he turns toward it. He allows the servant in, and you’re informed that the bathing chambers are ready. After the eunuch steps out and the handmaidens are waiting outside patiently, San goes back to you.

"Why don't we be efficient and take a bath together?" He wraps his arms around you from behind and you’re sure he feels your tail wag nervously even through the layers of fabric you both have on.

"C-can we?"

"Hm. I don't see why not. Not exactly traditional, but…I can get away with a lot." He chuckles and you feel it rumble through his chest pressed to your back. When he finally pulls back, you turn to him, face warm and he grins.

"So cute." He nuzzles your ear again and then comes back, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It’s your first kiss as a married couple, not that you haven't stolen a few leading up to that point. This one is different though and he nearly growls as he deepens the kiss. You squeak, it’s like he’s trying to eat you, and the obvious comparison is not lost on you. His tongue is rough against yours when it wiggles into your mouth and your head swims when his large canines clacked against your much smaller ones. When his lips let yours go, a trail of saliva connects your mouths, and you let out a shaky breath.

"Go with the handmaidens and get ready, I'll join after." San presses another kiss to your cheek and allows you to leave his embrace. You stop in front of the door, looking back at him again as the servant on the other side opens the door. He smiles warmly and you bite your lip giddily and then follow the maids to the bathing chamber. They carefully remove your garments and take your hair down, so it’s still just in a braid, you don’t need to wash it yet. You’re left in a simple white sokchima, not ready to be fully disrobed since San is still to come in. You hear his own servants getting him ready in the adjoining room and as soon as your maids leave, the side door opens. He steps in, closing it behind him and you gasp, eyes widening. Speaking of wide…his shoulders are so broad, especially compared to his waist. It’s fairly obvious even when he’s clothed, but right then he only has a pair of white sokbaji. His torso is toned as well and your mouth, still hanging open, starts to water. Well, not really, but you’re close. Feeling very small and delicate under his intense gaze, it softens when he notices your shoulders are tense.

"Come here." San coos, coming to meet you halfway and you let him hug you again, not able to help yourself placing your hands on his bare chest. His skin is smooth, and his muscles are hard and your thighs clench as you practically stroke him. He chuckles and your eyes flit up to his, ears flopping they’re twitching so hard. His tail is sticking out the back of his pants, swaying slightly, his ears drooping just a bit.

"Can I take this off, (Y/N)?" The prince's voice is quiet but deep in your ear and his hands grip the back of your sokchima.

"Y-yes." You do feel the amount of clothes is fairly unequal, but your final garment being removed will leave you completely bare. Shivering a tad as he pulls the tie open, the straps of the undergarment fall from your shoulders, then the rest of the fabric onto the floor. Your arms go to cover yourself, but his hands stop you. Your face is hot, almost on fire and you can’t meet his gaze, ears no longer twitching but pressed back hard against your head. Your short tail is waving back and forth quickly, no longer impeded by any fabric over it.

"You're beautiful." San tells you as he makes sure you won’t cover yourself and he steps back a tad, fingers going to the tie of his sokbaji. Your tongue runs nervously over your bottom lip, eyes immediately zooming in on his hands. He notices your gaze's direction and he huffs a laugh but continues with his task. Your arm wraps around your back, tugging on the end of your braid, now free of the pin holding it up that shows your wedded status. It’s like time slows down as he lifts the waistband up and over his half-hard cock and the fabric pools on the floor as well and your eyes widen almost comically. You’ve never seem a man naked in person, only having seen what are basically medical diagrams in books. All you know is that they probably aren’t all that big, and he isn’t even fully hard. The little spines at the base and head of his cock aren’t quite like you’d imagined; unlike the barbed end of a fishhook you thought. Your cunt clenches hard, and you swallow hard as he steps closer.

"Here." He grabs your hand with his and brings it toward him. You both gasp when your small, warm hand wraps around his cock, and you bite your lip as you pump up with your fingers wrapped around him. You wonder if it’ll hurt with how thick he is, your fingers not even meeting, and you ponder what the flesh would feel like on your tongue.

"(Y/N)?" His amused voice pulls you from your thoughts and your head has to tip back to look him in the eye with how close you are. A drop splats onto the floor, and you realize what it is when your slick thighs rub against each other. A rumble rises in San's chest and his nose nuzzles over your ear again, then down your throat and he inhales deeply. The rumble pick up and his warm spiced scent grows stronger, and you feel his cock harden fully in your grip.

"Let's get in." You whine a bit in disappointment when he pulls back, but he takes your hand and leads you down the little steps into the water. It’s nice and hot, but not too much so, flower petals floating in the water and carrying with them their sweet aroma. He sits on the bench that sits inside the large wooden tub, and he hauls you into his lap, legs straddling him. You watch the wavy image of his tail through the water, your tail not able to wag as hard with the water resistance. As you rest on his lap, his hard cock presses to your tummy and you press into it more, making him groan.

"You need to stop doing that if we're going to wait." His tone is a bit harder, his brow furrowing after your next press closer to him.

"Wait for what?" You give him a coy look. You know it would be "proper" to wait till you’re actually in a bed to…bed each other, but…

"(Y/N), love, don't you want your first time to be-" He grunts when you lean in, your breasts pressing into his chest, and he has to close his eyes to think.

"San, I don't care if you take me here, now, or in that bed. What matters is it's you." You rest your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling his neck, your head feeling foggy as you breathe in his scent. You hear the water sloshing before you feel anything, but his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you up a bit. His lips crash to yours as he maneuvers you, only pulling away so he can flip you around. Your back pressed to his chest and he has you rest your knees over his so he can hold your legs open. Even with the water of the bath, your slick is still stuck to your folds, and he groans as he runs two fingers over you. Your entire body jerks, thighs twitching at the little bit of friction, already sensitive. San's arm holds you to him as his index finger breaches your entrance, your slick easily letting him in. You had noticed earlier that he filed his claw-like nails down to blunt them, and now you know why. You had expected a bit of a sting at his finger's entrance, but you only feel pleasure. You have…tested on yourself before, but his fingers are longer and thicker, and your head falls back over his shoulder as a second joins the first. He grins, watching your cunt swallow his fingers, his tail sliding through the water to wrap over your thigh, holding it to his. San grinds the palm of his hand against your clit and your gummy walls clench around the digits inside and he hears you whine right into his ear. Under normal circumstances, your flitting ears and tail would tickle, but he can use them to tell just how you’re reacting.

"S-San!" You gasp, the pleasure he’s bringing over you rising fast and your blunt nails dig lightly into his arm where you grip it.

"Good girl, (Y/N). Fall apart for me." His prompting words leads you to your climax and he rumbles as your cunt clenches and pulses as your orgasm hits. When the little twitches finally die, your body slumps into his, he removes his fingers and helps move you once more. You face him again and your nails dig harder into his shoulders as he holds you over him, the head of his cock rubbing through your folds.

"Ready, princess?" He smirks a bit at the pet-name, though it’s completely and officially accurate now.

"Please." You lean down and kisses the corner of his mouth and down his neck. San grunts and your grip on him tightens as he presses you down, fat cock finally breaching your entrance. It stings, burning in the best way though, the rubbery spines of his cock flicking against your clit as he finally gets the head all the way in. The rest of his dick follows a bit easier, but each little increment deeper, the spines rub against the ridges of your cunt. He’s only halfway in when you throw your head back, breath harsh, chest heaving at the sensation of him splitting you open. Your cunt spasms and pulses, you’re already close, heat pooling and growing in your groin and lower stomach. Your flowery scent fills the air even more than the petals in the water, the pleasure and pheromones your husband are letting off spurring you into a semi-heat. Immediately, your cunt slicks even further, the thick wet not able to be washed away by the water. As he starts to bottom out, the spines at the base of his cock flicks over your clit and against the folds of your pussy and you shudder hard as your groin meets his. San barely shifts and that’s all it takes, your second orgasm hitting quicker and harder than the first. His growl rumbles through his chest, you and the room as your cunt clenches hard around him.

"Fuck-" You swear softly and hearing the vulgar word leave your soft, sweet lips makes him groan.

"Are you okay, love?"

"J-just give me a second." You’re still shuddering in his arms, tiny waves still pulsing through your cunt.

"I can't last much longer." He warns and you shift once yourself, pressing your knees harder into the bench of the bath and you nod jerkily. You’re prepared…well, you think you are. San's arms around you tighten, almost to hold you in place, and he lifts you off his cock some, then pumps up his hips, fucking back into you deep. Your head flies back so hard he’s a bit concerned, but he continues his thrusts, not even pulling out halfway before filling you once more. The water sloshes around you, your tail wagging hard through the water, his own wrapped around your right thigh.

"Shit-" He grunts, pressing you to him and standing. You yelp at his movement but then he lightly rests you against the rounded edge of the wooden tub. He reaches past your head for a towel and bunches it under your head.

"San?" You don’t get an answer to your prompting tone, and your breath hitches as he hauls your legs up to wrap around his narrow waist. One hand rests against your thigh to hold your leg up, the other taking your hand from his shoulder and lifting it up above your head. His fingers linking with yours, holding your hand tightly as his lips hover over yours.

"Hold on, princess." He more or less warns, and your other hand flies to the narrow wooden column near you, barely getting a hold on it before he snaps his hips, relentlessly barreling his cock into you, head battering your back walls. You let out a choking sound, followed by unintelligible whimpers and babbles, your next orgasm rising already. With each thrust, he grinds his hips down, the spines at the base of his cock teasing your clit and he doesn’t even slow down as your third orgasm crashes over you. If anything, it makes him go harder, the water around his legs sloshing hard. He’s full-on growling at this point, tongue running over his long canines, a drop of saliva falling past his lips and into your mouth, gaping open, drool dripping from the side. Your eyes roll back as his pace seems to pick up, the thrusts somewhat shallower but even harder.

"Fucking hell, love, you're taking me so well." San rumbles, watching his fat cock split you open, the shine of your slick and cum on his cock makes his head swim.

"Want me to cum inside? Fuck my cub into you?" He laughs cockily; eyes fixed on the joining of your bodies. You both aren’t even sure how easy it’ll be for you to conceive, and he honestly doesn’t care if you can’t. He’s so far down the line of succession himself, let alone his kids. Though, if it is harder, that just means he can try all the harder.

"Please! San, want your cum!" You whimper, neither of you caring anymore if the servants hear the filth spilling from your mouths.

"Gonna make you my mate too, my wife…" He growls and his thrusts grow unsteady, his nose nuzzles your neck again and your breath hitches as the sharp ends of his canines meet your skin. Your blunt nails dig into the wood of the column, hand gripping his hard as he finally falls over the edge himself. His teeth sink in as he cums, white, hot spurts of cum coating your walls and filling your womb. Your orgasm helps him ride out his, core gripping him hard, eagerly drinking in his seed. You almost feel like you’re going to pass out, brain clearing some as he stops, licking over the bite wound in your shoulder. He pulls back enough to look down at your worn-out body, face red and splotchy but still so cute, so pretty. And you’re all his.

The next few minutes pass with a blur; all of the servants are called to leave the hallway leading from the bath to your bedchambers. You only realize you have changed location when the still-wet skin of your back hits the silk sheets, and San is filling you back up. You have nothing to hold onto, so you white knuckle the sheet of the futon under you. Your legs are thrown over San’s wide shoulders, ankles by his ears, and animalistic noises are leaving him. He’s salivating like a hungry…well, tiger, growls turning into near roars. You aren’t sure how many more orgasms he fucked out of you before he fills your womb with even more of his seed. Your mind is nearly gone, only little squeaks leaving you as he flips you over, hips raised in the air, chest pressing to the bed below. His giant cock, with all those blasted spines, carves into you, and your cunt clenches hard, molding to him. You’re both a mess already, the bath having been nearly negated. Sweat drips from his brow onto your bare back, a thick mix of your releases coating both your thighs and forming a puddle below. A dark stain from the tears caused by the overwhelming sensations and drool forms below your cheek. Even with his claws blunted, they tear into the bedding some as he leans over you, hips pumping hard, the slap of skin muffled by his grunts.

“One more for me, princess. Gonna get you pregnant, keep you stuffed full till you do.” He chuckles, pace stuttering, and your vision spots as he cums once more, squirts and sprays of your own release soaking his groin further. Soon, all that can be heard is both of your panting breaths and you’re having trouble staying awake, all strength leaving your body. That’s when something terrifying hits you…he’s still hard.

hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over the heads. gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. hangul - the Korean alphabet we use today. hanja - the old Korean characters derived from Chinese used prior to Hangul's creation. jeongjagwan - a type of gat that noblemen would wear, it looks much like a pagoda. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. cheopji - a hair accessory worn by women, looks similar to a headband with a clip or pin in the middle. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually...

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